To emphasize his point, he set a beer, dripping with condensation, on the counter of the bar.
Josh looked from Xavier to Tyra, and saw the amused glances the two were exchanging. This was clearly some kind of silly, marital showdown between the two of them, and Josh had no idea how serious they might be taking things.
Rachel looked at Josh for guidance. He was no help, he knew. He could feel the magnetic pull of Tyra from across the room. He was going to have whatever Tyra told him to. This was partially because she was beautiful, and partially because she was terrifying.
“I'll have...a glass of wine,” he said.
Tyra clapped her hands together and shook her hips. “That's a man with class,” she said, pointing at Josh.
Josh couldn't help feeling a flutter of delight that Tyra was looking at him with approval.
Now Xavier and Tyra turned their sights on Rachel. Xavier pointed to the beer. Tyra narrowed her eyes. “Don't let him talk you into some nasty old beer, darling,” Tyra said to Rachel.
Rachel, Josh could see, was clearly uncomfortable. He took a tiny bit of perverse pleasure in her discomfort.
And he knew what was coming next.
The wrinkling of her nose.
“I'll have...” she gave the room one last look all around, and then puffed, desperately, “a beer.”
“Mmmhmmm,” Xavier sang-hummed, crouching behind the bar to get into the fridge.
Tyra turned to Josh and pointed again. Her fingers moved back and forth from Josh to herself. “You and me, baby. We have class. I'm gonna go get us some of the good stuff.”
Josh felt something come over him. He resisted, with great difficulty, the urge to watch Tyra retreat into the kitchen. He could feel a craving clawing at him, one he hadn't felt in a long time, to look at a woman's ass. Her ass, specifically, since the dress she was wearing was tight to her skin and the front of her body was a voluptuous, flawless wonder.
Her ass was high and full, as he had expected. It pushed her orange dress out in two absolutely spherical globes, and the material change color ever-so-slightly where it dipped into the crack between those hard spheres as she walked. He had to tear his eyes away from her.
His mind went, unauthorized, to what she must look like naked.
Xavier had come from behind the bar, and set the beers down on the table.
He clinked his bottle together with Rachel's, and they smiled at each other.
“Animals!” Tyra yelled from the kitchen. “Aren't you even gonna get that poor girl a glass?”
Xavier smiled. Josh watched his face, and saw the embedded wink and complicity in his expression. “You need a glass?” he purred at Rachel. Josh felt his cock twitching, and he was completely unsure whether it was Tyra's round ass, Xavier's panther-like voice, or the remnants of his fantasies about Xavier pumping his wife full of cum.
Rachel shook her head with a small grin.
“We don't need any damn glasses!” Xavier yelled at the kitchen.
Josh heard Tyra tisk and mumble something under her breath.
Josh's fantastical doubts began swirling around again. There was something in the way that Xavier was leaning toward his wife, clinking his beer bottle together with hers, sharing the moment...there was something between them.
Wasn't there?
Maybe it didn't matter to Xavier that his wife was incredibly hot. Maybe Tyra was too much for Xavier. Too beautiful in an untouchable way. Too headstrong or dominating...she seemed a little like that. That could happen. Maybe Tyra was too caught up in her work. Maybe Tyra was cold and mean, and Rachel was a refreshing drink of water to him.
Maybe he liked white women.
Tyra reappeared and set a glass of wine down in front of him. He picked it up, and she clinked her glass to his ostentatiously. Then she gave Xavier a look from the side of her eyes. “I'm not toasting some beer bottle. Not with this crystal.”
Xavier broke into a wide grin.
It was suddenly clear to Josh that this was how the two of them were. This was just the typical banter between a married couple with a good relationship. He immediately felt silly for the thoughts he had just entertained.
But was Xavier staring at Rachel now?
He was.
Wasn't he?
Tyra left for the kitchen again.
“So Josh,” Xavier said, putting his elbows up on his chair. He had the easy-going, smooth masculinity of a man who knew he was a Man; he took up the amount space he wanted to; he changed the conversation when he wanted to; he didn't mind letting his wife boss him around in front of people because he didn't take it from anyone else. “What is it you do, man?”
He was smiling. His face was friendly.
Josh admonished himself again for his rain of crazy thoughts. “I, uh...I work at the CDC.”
Xavier nodded. “Oh, that's right. What do you do, though, are you one of those guys who works in the lab testing anthrax and stuff like that?”
Josh was sure Rachel emitted a light laugh, though it might have just been his imagination. When he looked at her, her face was calm and she was holding her wine glass, waiting for his answer with feigned enthusiasm.
Josh's head was swimming. “I...no, no, I'm in...I prepare reports.”
“Are they at least about anthrax?”
Josh smiled. He wasn't sure what was coming over him, but he felt an impulse, not unlike the impulse to exaggerate his job to a woman, to impress Xavier with his job.
“They can be,” he said.
Rachel hit him lightly with the back of her hand.
“They're about measles and Ebola and stuff like that,” Rachel said. Then she picked up her cuteness momentum. “It's actually really scary sometimes, so I don't talk to him about work anymore. There is some stuff I would rather. Not. Know.”
Xavier was looking at her, and Josh was sure he could see a look of pleasure on his face. He liked Rachel as much as the next guy. He liked listening to her when she got excited.
He was probably a fan on Rachel's fanpage.
“Okay, move your hands and get ready for fried pickles and okra!” Tyra was yelling from the kitchen.
Xavier was looking at Josh. He seemed amused. “I know what you're thinking,” he said. His voice was serious, and cut through the air to Josh directly, under the squeals of delight from Rachel.
Josh felt cold prickle his forearms and make a puddle in his torso. Did Xavier know what he was thinking? Which thought? About him wanting to fuck his wife, or about Josh's own lewd thoughts, that had briefly bloomed, about Tyra's cunt and what it looked like?
“You're thinking, 'what are black people doing serving Cajun food?' But Tyra lived in New Orleans. So this isn't like when y'all make spaghetti or something.”
Josh stared at him. He hoped his discomfort wasn't evident, but years of experience not thinking well on his feet told him it was.
Xavier smiled, and brought the beer to his lips. “I'm joking with you, man.”
There was a moment, before the topic of conversation turned suddenly, that Josh felt sure that Xavier was somehow challenging him.
But Tyra put her hand on his arm, and asked him a question about okra, and the moment was gone. Dinner began, and the food was delicious.
Josh made up his mind to stop being a filthy-minded man, and just enjoy a nice dinner with new friends.
10: TOUR
Rachel had had too much beer. She could feel the heat of an alcoholic flush spreading from her neck to her cheeks.
She was relieved that dinner seemed to be going so well. She was relieved that Tyra was obviously at ease with her presence, and didn't seem to harbor any ill will about what was happening on the childish fanpages of the internet. She seemed amused by it, in fact.
Also, Tyra was beautiful. She was stunningly beautiful. Rachel felt a little relieved about her appearance; it seemed too improbable that Xavier would be attracted to anyone but his own stunning wife. She had felt a pang of disappointment, but relief even
tually overwhelmed it.
It was good. It would keep her from doing anything she shouldn't.
Rachel was relieved that Josh seemed to feel comfortable, too. He was even hitting it off with Tyra.
Xavier was making Rachel laugh at the dining table.
All was well for most of the evening.
She wasn't sure how the evening turned, on a dime.
She was laughing at Xavier's imitation of a man she had interviewed the day before. The guy had been eating a TV dinner when a driver, choking on a piece of beef jerky, drove into his living room.
“I was just eatin' them...you know, them Salisbury steaks, because I like them, and I had one bite left and then I thought somethin' started shakin', but you know it coulda been me,” Xavier was declaring, imitating the man's very down-home black dialect perfectly. He leaned closer to Rachel, precisely as the old man had, and placed his hand next to his mouth. He lowered his voice. “You know I do get into the whiskey but it's the end of the month and I live on a pension, if you know what I mean, so that shakin', it may have coulda been my own hands.”
Rachel laughed appreciatively for the good imitation. The man had been such a raconteur and made Rachel laugh so much it had taken almost an hour to get one minute of footage they could use.
Xavier stayed where he was, leaning close to her. A clean smell of soap or a light cologne was on his skin, and only now, with him next to her like this, could she smell it. Her mind drifted to an idea, and it unsettled her. She tried to get it out of her mind, but Xavier remained close to her, saying nothing. An unusual smile was on his mouth.
The tension between them was suddenly palpable. Rachel knew she should feel more uncomfortable with it, especially because Tyra and Josh were in the kitchen choosing a wine, and they could come out any moment.
Still, those two were drinking wine, they seemed to be having a good time. Xavier was so close to her, and looking at her with what seemed to be desire.
Her mind drifted to her fantasies about Xavier again, and then she surprised herself very much by saying:
“I haven't seen the rest of the house, yet.”
Her voice sounded sultry. She heard it, and wished almost instantly that she could take it back. It was over the line.
But Xavier leaned back in his chair. His expression was more like he was impressed than shocked. “Okay,” he said, and his voice was quiet and serious.
Rachel's idea, which was little more than a gratuitous, flash-fantasy, fluttered through her mind again. Xavier would lead her down the hallway, and once they were out of sight of Josh and Tyra, he turn around. Overcome by his desire, he would pounce on her, pressing her to the wall, and then she would feel the heat of his body against her own. He would brush his lips over hers, and his cock would be hard against her inner thigh...
Xavier stood up.
Rachel felt the spectacular swing of mood that alcohol often gave her. The cheerful, a-okay mood of just moments before transformed to a sense of foreboding.
What was she doing? What had she just set in motion?
She stood up, though, and followed Xavier.
Her heart was racing, and she could feel sweat forming on her palms. A feeling of guilt was snaking through her: she had just done something over the line. What was she doing? With Josh in the next room? And Xavier's wife?
She stared at the muscles of back as he walked ahead of her. No matter how much she tried to think about how inappropriate this was, she found herself thinking instead about his toned arms, and how he could probably hold her up against the wall while he fucked her senseless.
“This is the guest room, which, if you want, you guys can stay in...and here is my favorite room...” he opened a door and turned on the light.
Rachel was so preoccupied with her thoughts that she didn't really see the room.
She was being ridiculous. Xavier was a man with a gorgeous wife, and he was, quite literally, taking her on a tour of his house. Nothing more.
“Nice,” she said vaguely.
Xavier looked at her, perplexed. “Like, 'nice, that it's here?'” He was shaking his head. “I thought this would be funnier to you.”
It was only then that she saw that the room was obscenely small, smaller than a lot of walk-in closets, and covered in Barbie-doll wallpaper.
“Oh god,” she said.
Xavier was looking at her now, though. He seemed to have stepped closer to her. “That's right,” he said. But his voice seemed quieter. He definitely moved closer now. There was not very much space between them at all. “What could Rachel Elliot be thinking about,” he said, and his voice was as low and sultry as hers had been when she asked for a tour of the house, “that makes her not notice an entire room covered in Barbie doll wallpaper?”
In her mind, a very lewd image developed of what she imagined Xavier looked like naked: dark, carved like a statue, his cock pulsing between his legs. She stopped breathing and willed her heart to cease its heavy beating against her chest.
She was shaking, but what it was that was making her tremble was unknown to her. Was she afraid? What was even going on here?
Xavier was definitely putting the moves on her.
And she definitely wasn't stopping him.
She should. She knew that.
She tried to open her mouth, or move her body, or try to do something to stop their bodies moving together.
“Oh,” she heard Tyra's voice in the dining room. “Looks like they've flown the coop.”
Tyra and Josh – her husband, her husband – were just ten feet away. Just around a corner.
“We're just down here,” she said, and her voice wobbled from her throat. Xavier moved back from her, but he kept his eyes locked on hers as he smiled.
“Oh,” Tyra said, coming into the hallway. “You're taking a tour. In the dark.”
Her voice was lighthearted, but Rachel felt a stab of fear. An adrenaline-soaked thrill went through her body. Tyra turned on the hall light.
Rachel turned and moved to stand by Josh. She squeezed his hand. He looked at her, an expression of confusion on his face.
“We should probably get going soon, huh?” she said.
Tyra was standing by Xavier now. “You can have the guest room, if you want,” she said.
The four of them stood looking at each other. Xavier had a faint smile on his lips. Rachel was paralyzed. Tyra was grinning, and brought her wine glass to her lips.
Rachel was delighted when Josh shook his head. “No,” he said, and he sounded a little robotic. “I have...a thing tomorrow morning, I have a lot of work to do.”
Rachel hoped he didn't suspect anything was going here. He seemed not to.
And nothing was, after all.
She hadn't done anything.
She had only thought about it.
And looking at the spectacular shape of Tyra's body in her orange dress, she knew Josh had to have had at least one dirty thought in his own mind.
The pendulum of her mood swung again, and she felt released from her guilt. She squeezed Josh's hand.
She was turned on. She wanted to go home, have sex with her husband, and put this whole weird evening behind her.
11:
DESSERT
Xavier and Tyra stood waving at them from the doorway as they got into the car.
Rachel was in good spirits. She tossed her head against he head rest and laughed as the car reversed. “They're so nice,” she said. “They're so funny. I don't know what I was worried about.”
Josh brushed from his mind another percolating image of Tyra leaning close to him, her dark nipples within reach of his fingers. Tyra had been quite friendly, and quite unperturbed about leaving Rachel and Xavier together in the dining room, alone, leaning ever-closer to each other.
Josh's mind reeled to process what Rachel said. “Uh...what...what were you worried about? You were worried about something?”
Rachel turned to him in disbelief.
“Are you serious?”
>
Might as well commit, Josh thought. Commit to ignorance. “Uh...yes.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “'Rachel Elliot wants some big black cock...Rachel Elliot is having an affair with her cameraman,'” she said, in a mocking voice. Then she waved her hands at the air as though she had something on display in front of her.
Ah, yes. The internet problems.
“Oh, that,” Josh said, falling back down to reality.
“Am I the only one who is worried about how Xavier's wife would feel about a rumor like that?” Rachel asked, rhetorically.
Xavier's wife.
The words turned in Josh's head. Tyra's lips swarmed in front of his eyes. Wife, wife, wife.
The word “wife” made his cock throb. Thinking of his wife, of sharing her, of letting her slip away to “tour the house” with another man...he exhaled sharply to clear the lust and alcohol from his head and focus on driving.
The car fell silent, and Rachel stared out the window. She was lost in her own thoughts, and didn't seem to care if Josh picked up the conversation where it left off.
Maybe because she was thinking of Xavier.
Josh mopped his brow with a napkin, grateful that Rachel seemed to take no notice. They drove home, lost in their own thoughts. Josh indulged the entire time in imagining his wife was thinking about Xavier. X-rated, filthy thoughts.
Of course she probably wasn't. But it didn't stop him fantasizing about it.
When they stepped through the door, he moved close behind Rachel and slid his hands over her hips and down to the center of her, between her legs. He knew his cock was against her, and she could feel it, and that she was probably going to squirm away from him. Perhaps angrily. This whole evening was so confusing to him. He felt a little guilty for enjoying the idea of his wife with Xavier so much. At the same time an irrational fear was sneaking through him. The fear that perhaps Rachel could read his dark thoughts, and she would tell him to sleep on the couch.
Instead, however, she pressed up against him. She let her head fall back against his shoulder, and did not impede his traveling hands.
Human Interest: A Lead-In To Wife Watching Page 7