He cringed as Amanda bounded from their bed, sending their sheets flying as she pointed an accusing finger straight in his direction.
“So in other words, Man of My Heart,” she spat out, tone dripping with venom. “You have the hots for a gal at work, and you want my official permission to cheat on me with her. And if I don’t agree, then I officially qualify as an unhip, behind the times wife who is not responsive to her husband’s needs—which, according to too many people, would give you permission to cheat anyway.”
Greg sighed.
“Listen, would you just hear me out on this?” he implored her, holding his hands out before her in what seemed a gesture of sheer desperation. “You and I need a boost in our love life, we both know this.”
Amanda nodded.
“Well seeing as how you haven’t touched me in a month, I’d say that’s a fair statement,” she snapped, adding with a deep sigh, “But don’t you think that maybe tango lessons, or—if you really wanna get wild—an evening spent at the Pussycat Theater, which hosts half price couples’ night every other Wednesday, not that I’ve noticed mind you, would best infidelity on the proposed list of things to do to spice up a marriage?”
Greg shook his head.
“How is it infidelity,” he queried, tone slow and cautious, “If we both participate and both enjoy it—and thoroughly?”
Amanda froze.
“Are you honestly suggesting that I join you and this sure to be irresistible frau for a three way roll in the hay?” she asked, tone tinged with complete and utter disbelief as she folded her arms before her.
Greg shook his head.
“Not a three way, no,” he amended, adding in a matter of fact tone, “A mate swap, apparently, is something of an even exchange. I get some quality time with the lovely Pia—and in return, you get some quality time with her handsome husband.”
Amanda gasped.
“You’d actually want me to have sex with another man?” she asked him, adding with a hurt look, “You mean to say you wouldn’t be the slightest bit jealous?”
Greg smiled.
“Of course I would, baby,” he cooed in a soothing tone, “but don’t you see? That’s part of the thrill. We both have fun. We both get some satisfaction and perhaps even learn some exciting new tricks to bring to the bedroom. And we both feel just a little bit guilty, and more than a bit jealous. That’s a potent mixture for some awesome make up sex, if you asked me.”
His wife thought a moment, and then nodded.
“OK well, I guess I could see the potential benefits to this little arrangement,” she pursed her lips, adding as she inclined her head in her husband’s direction, “One question, though. Is this Emmanuel as hot as his wife? I mean, not to be shamelessly, unforgivably stereotypical, but when I picture a male swinger, I picture some greasy, swarthy little guy bathed in cheap cologne with a name like Stud or Scoundrel—and copious amounts of gold chains. But I could be wrong. I direly, desperately hope so anyway.”
Greg said nothing, only reached for the briefcase that lay beside their bed and opened it to reveal a glossy photograph; one that revealed the most beautiful couple she’d ever seen.
The woman, who she assumed was the mysterious Pia, boasted a slender frame, inhumanly long legs and silky reams of long, coal black hair and wide dark eyes; features accentuated still further by her bronzed features and full, moist, ruby red lips.
“Oh hell no,” she burst out, shaking her head from side to side in a sharp, vigorous manner, “Ain’t no way I am letting you anywhere near that woman.”
Then she looked at Mr. Pia, otherwise known as Emmanuel. And, well, she couldn’t say much of anything at all in response to all that hotness.
Also tall and statuesque, Emmanuel was light in radiant contrast with his wife’s exotic bronzed beauty; himself an ebullient vision of long golden hair, bronzed skin, carved cheekbones, full, moist lips, and a strong, exquisitely muscled form.
“Amanda,” Greg said finally, voice laced with an all knowing tone as he declared, “Meet my co-worker and her husband.”
Amanda nodded.
“Must have missed ‘em at your office Christmas party,” she commented, adding as she inclined her head in the direction of her smirking mate, “Any chance we could do dinner? Maybe even bowling, mayhap?”
Greg guffawed outright.
“That’s the spirit, baby,” he praised her, adding as he held his hand out to her, “Now let’s put all this aside for the evening and act like old marrieds. Let us kiss good night. And fall asleep together, in one another’s arms.”
Nodding her agreement to this plan, Amanda walked slowly back to the bed and sank downward in her husband’s strong arms; sinking for just a moment against his muscled chest as her husband—her one and only lover in life—held her closer than close and claimed her lips in a passionate kiss.
His full, warm mouth massaged hers in a smooth, massaging motion, his tongue stealing inward to engage hers in a passionate tango. The couple’s hands joined between them as they kissed each other senseless, both leaning full and hard into their passion, before breaking their bond to pull back and stare deep into one another’s eyes.
“Just think about all of the excitement that awaits us, my lady,” he whispered in her ear. “Prepare for the ultimate thrill.”
3
“Why in the ever lovin’ livin’ daylights did I agree to this mess?”
This is the thought that dominated Amanda’s psyche that Friday evening, as she faced her own image across the surface of her favorite brass bordered mirror.
Until this moment, her day had been consumed by a series of banal but time consuming actions meant to prepare her for this moment. After dropping the kids off at school, she paid a visit to her stylist and a local boutique; procuring and facilitating the sharp new look she now modeled, locked away in the sanctity of her bedroom.
She supposed she looked nice enough, with her shoulder length chestnut hair styled and coiffed and her curvy figure adorned in a knee length frock of scarlet velvet lined with classic lace at its V-necked collar.
She matched its hue with a rarely worn shade of scarlet red lipstick and ebony mascara, also adding a touch of blush to her plump, fair skinned cheeks.
“I’m sure that’s not the last time I’ll be blushing on this particular evening,” she rolled her brown eyes in her own direction, “Again, I repeat. Why in the ever lovin’ livin’ daylights did I agree to this mess?”
Although she still looked forward to meeting Emmanuel, she did not welcome the thought of coming into any sort of contact with Pia; the woman who’d first lured her husband into even considering this outrageous idea—and the woman who, if their plan played out, would become his lover.
“I’ve never cheated on Greg before,” she mused, biting the lip she’d newly adorned. “And he’s never betrayed me—or at least I don’t believe so.”
Why, she wondered, was her husband suddenly so interested in this type of lifestyle?
And why was her own interest so piqued, for that matter?
She had to admit that, just about every night since Greg had proposed this plan, her dreams and fantasies had brimmed with visions of the beautiful, mysterious Emmanuel.
“And here I felt slightly guilty when I went to see Magic Mike and drooled profusely over Channing Tatum,” she mused through gritted teeth, adding as those teeth ground together still more, “And Alex Pettyfer. And Joe Manganiello. And Matthew…oh you get the idea?”
“I just dropped the kids off at the sitter’s house. Is the ravishing crazy lady standing there talking to herself ready to go yet?”
Freezing at the sound of an all too familiar voice, Amanda forced a smile as she turned to face the man who stood poised in their bedroom doorway; himself looking pretty ‘ravishing’ in a sleek black silk suit that accented every plane of his leanly muscled form.
Greg indeed seemed a changed man, not only in terms of appearance (indeed, his shoulder length hair had b
een trimmed and teased to very sexy effect and his face appeared both fresh washed and moisturized—kinda odd for a dude, but appealing nonetheless) but his overall attitude as well. He strolled into their bedroom with squared shoulders and an easy, confident gait as he offered her his arm.
“Hey babe, I was just kidding about the crazy part,” he told her, adding as he pressed his warm, moist lips against the surface of her cheek, “But not about the ravishing part.”
Amanda nodded.
“Ravishing, huh?” she asked. “Usually all I can get from you is a ‘cute,’ and that’s on a good hair day.” She noted, adding more seriously, “That needs to change.”
Greg nodded.
“After tonight, Amanda, everything changes,” he told her, adding as he pinned her with a contemplative glance, “Are you ready for this? If not tell me now, and we’ll forget about everything and stay home.”
Amanda thought a moment, and then nodded.
“I am ready for this,” she announced, lifting her chin and throwing her shoulders back as she took her husband’s arm. “And I think we need it. Let’s go.”
4
The moment she stepped through the doors of La Coeur Restaurant, Amanda felt immersed in an aura of elegance that immediately soothed and lulled her senses.
She always basked in the vision of the gold brocade walls, vaulted ceilings and plush carpeting that formed the borders of this exclusive eatery, her favorite in the city. And now her eyes widened at the vision of tables adorned in coverings of sheer ivory lace and encircled by velvet covered chairs; topped by bouquets of dew glistened scarlet red roses and pearl pink carnations, as well as a variety of polished china that shone in the light of candle lined chandeliers overhead.
Soon her gaze was driven to a still more beautiful vision, a radiant couple whose sheer physical beauty seemed simply beyond compare.
Even she had to admit that Pia Samuelson shone in a foot length gown of sleek teal crepe, one that formed and caressed her slender figure to spectacular effect. Her waves of bountiful, midnight black hair fell graceful across her slender shoulders, proving the ideal showcase for wide ebony eyes that now flashed seductive in her husband’s direction.
“Hi, Handsome!” her lilting voice carried smooth and easy across the air as her full, ruby red lips parted to fix a beaming Greg with a charming, welcoming smile.
She was just a bit too charming and welcoming, in the view of one displeased spectator.
“OK that’s it. We’re out of here,” she whispered with a grimace. “Jesus, at this rate this woman and I aren’t going to make it through the salad course.”
Greg shook his head.
“Focus, baby,” he whispered in her ear, adding as he ran a soothing hand down the length of her back, “Focus on Emmanuel.”
Finally dragging her gaze away from the source of her ire, she shifted it instead to the focus of her desire; and, heaven help her, he was even more beautiful than his photo.
Standing from his table to strike a strong, tall stance before her, the muscular, broad-shouldered blond pulled out his chair for her even as he showed off the sleek white velvet dinner suit that accentuated every plane and muscle of his flawless frame.
Raising her gaze to his to thank him for his kind gesture, she was struck by the brilliance of his sparkling azure eyes and the perfection of his chiseled face; a visage well graced with sculpted cheekbones, full, moist lips and a perfect cleft chin.
“Christ, I didn’t think that anyone outside of Hollywood movies actually had a cleft chin—and even then I figured it was digitally enhanced,” Amanda mused, adding with a smile, “This man is just friggin’ beautiful.”
Then the ethereal, unbelievable vision parted his lips and spoke. Blast him.
“Why thank you, Miss,” he purred, his smooth, deep voice sending tingles down her spine.
“I just said that out loud, didn’t I?” she said aloud—this time on purpose. “Hate it when I do that—but blast it, it’s true. You are indeed friggin’ beautiful.”
Emmanuel guffawed outright.
“You are a delight, just as your husband described you,” he praised her, holding her gaze as he brought her hand to his full, moist lips for a long, sweet kiss. “Thank you so much for joining us this evening.”
Amanda nodded.
“Why thank you, I’m glad I did,” she assented, adding silently, “Now I am, anyway. Things could change at any moment.”
This thought was put to rest moments later, as her perceived rival leaned forward to plant her own surprising kiss square on her flushed cheek.
“Miss Amanda, I have heard wonderful things about you and am so glad you’re here,” Pia said with a grin, taking her hands and squeezing them in hers in a warm, sisterly manner. “We are thrilled to welcome you to our little circle of friends.”
“Circle of friends. So that’s what the kids are calling it these days,” Amanda replied, at the same time returning Pia’s irresistible smile and finally taking her seat. “Nice to meet you, Pia. My husband has spoken highly of you.”
“Too highly,” she added, mercifully in silence this time, as she saw Pia turn to her watching husband and engage the obviously admiring man in a round of quiet, intimate conversation.
She took in her breath moments later, as a pair of strong, sturdy hands clasped and caressed her sturdy shoulders.
Surprised at the intimacy of this gesture, she faced forward in her seat to face its most alluring source; a man who pinned her with an intense stare as he said, “Dear Lady, I realize that this can be an intimidating, even uncomfortable prospect for first time practitioners. Just be assured that what we’re doing here tonight is not only for Greg’s benefit, but for yours as well.” His voice lowered itself to a seductive purr as he added, “Think of this as your fantasy night, Bella. This is all about you, your dreams and desires. How can I please you?”
Even as Emmanuel’s bold, intimate questions made her heart pound, she managed a sharp, disbelieving laugh in response to his words.
“Wow, you really get to the point, don’t you?” she asked with a smile. “I thought at this early hour you’d be asking my preferences regarding hors d’oeuvres and wine spritzers.”
Emmanuel chuckled.
“Well love, that part is all taken care of,” he assured her, taking her hands in his. “Please forgive us, but Pia and I took the liberty of ordering a magnum of champagne for our beverage this evening, as well as lobster dinners with sides of escargot and steamed vegetables and desserts of chocolate mousse.”
Amanda grinned.
“OK then, you just said the magic words,” she told him with a wink.
Emmanuel arched his eyebrows.
“Which magic words would those be, princess?” he asked her. “This is all about you, your dreams and desires? Or chocolate mousse?”
Amanda laughed.
“Both,” she admitted, adding as she waggled her eyebrows salacious in the direction of her captivating dinner date, “As a matter of fact I do believe that the two could be artfully combined.”
A laughing Emmanuel clasped her hands across the table as he told her, “Now that’s the spirit. All we need you to do is relax and enjoy your evening; and if I have it my way, Darling, you’re going to enjoy it very much.”
Proving his words moment later, Emmanuel set about making Amanda his full and true date for the evening. He handfed her nearly every bite of her gourmet dinner, insisting in exchange that she tell him every detail about her career and her interests. He also shared details about his own career as an artist, and asked if he could possibly commit her image to paper.
“Oh please,” Amanda snorted, adding as she rolled her eyes heavenward, “I’m sure that your wife would make a much more pleasing subject—unless, of course, you’re seeking to draw the centerfold of Cuddly Perky CPAs Monthly.”
Emmanuel guffawed outright.
“When I draw my subjects, I do my best to capture their soul on paper,” he told her, addi
ng as he reached across the table to cradle her face tender in his hands, “Have you ever really looked at yourself, Amanda? Have you noticed how your eyes light up when you laugh, the beauty of your smile? Those are the things that I see when I look at you.”
Amanda said nothing for a moment, only took in her breath as their eyes locked and their public surroundings dissolved around them. She lost herself in the intense beauty of his pure crystalline gaze; reading a promise in his seductive eyes that seemed impossible to resist.
“Why thank you,” she told him finally, adding with a shrug, “I guess between the work and the kids, I haven’t taken a good look at myself lately.”
Emmanuel nodded.
“Well you should—because from where I stand lately, you are a sight to behold,” he whispered, adding as he gestured in the direction of the crisp, clean lined dance floor that formed the center of their dining spot. “Care to dance, Amanda?”
Biting her lip, Amanda turned to ask her husband if he would mind terribly if she danced with another man.
“Since part of the premise of the evening’s activities involves me sleeping with another man, it seems just a bit redundant to ask,” she mused, adding as she bit her lip, “Still and all, I don’t believe that either one of us has danced with anyone else since our wedding.”
Turning toward the opposite end of their table, where she’d last seen Greg chatting happily away with his apparent favorite co-worker, her eyes flew wide as she beheld two empty seats.
Turning full in her chair, she immediately located Greg and Pia at the center of the dance floor; where they danced slow and close, their arms wrapped around one another and their chests pressed together as they stared deep into one another’s eyes.
“When was the last time he looked at me that way?” she mused in silence, “If ever? Of course, I guess that I don’t have a lot of room to talk. I didn’t even notice when he left the table.”
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