He sits up and pours some suntan lotion into his hand and rubs it across my back. I smile at the sensation of his hands on my skin. He slowly begins to rub it into my upper thighs. His fingertips skim down over my sex. “Careful, we are in another country,” I murmur. “You’ll get us arrested.”

“What would the charge be? Orgasming in public from rubbing sunscreen on my girlfriend?”

“Exactly that.” I smile sleepily. “See, I told you you’d get used to it.”

“Get used to what?” He slides his fingers beneath my bikini top and tweaks my nipple. I squirm at the sensation.

“Saying the word girlfriend.”

“Meh.” He smirks as he concentrates on his task. “Still an ordinary word. Wife is more of a flex.”

I open my eyes and look up at him. Big brown eyes. His dark hair is messy from the salty sea. His rippled skin already golden and glowing from being in the sun today. How can someone be so utterly gorgeous?

“Wife is much more of a flex,” I whisper, distracted by his beauty.

His gaze follows his hand as he continues to rub the lotion in. “Where do you see yourself in five years?” he asks.

“Married to the love of my life,” I reply without hesitation. “Hopefully pregnant—that’s if we’re blessed with children. If we don’t have children, traveling the world with my husband sounds pretty good too.”

His fingers keep roaming over my skin.

“Where do you see yourself?” I ask.

He opens his mouth to say something and then closes it as if second-guessing his thoughts.

“Tell me . . .”

“I don’t know.”

I watch him. “Yes, you do. You at least have an idea.”

“Recently”—he shrugs, his eyes still following his hands—“I’ve been seeing a very different future from what I always thought I would have.”

I reach up and run my fingers through his dark stubble. “And how does that make you feel?”

He shrugs again, remaining silent . . .

“Terrified, horrified, or just plain petrified?” I smirk.

His eyes rise to meet mine. “Excited.”

I smile softly up at my beautiful man.

What?

“We have so much to be excited for, Hen. Don’t we?”

He nods.

“So who’s the lucky girl, then?” I tease.

His eyes dance with delight. “A threesome-loving chick I met at a swingers’ party a while back.”

I laugh. This man kills me. “She’s a lucky girl.”

“Maybe.” He leans down and kisses me, his lips lingering over mine. “We should fuck now.”

I smile against his lips. “We’re waiting until we get back from dinner tonight, or I’ll fall asleep and won’t go out at all.”

He exhales in disgust and rolls onto his back. “My threesome-loving swinger wouldn’t say that. She’d be all for it, blowing me, right here, right now.”

I giggle. “Who, the future Mrs. James?”

“That’s her.”

“Maybe you’ll find her back at the hotel.”

He slaps me hard on the behind. “Let’s go.”

Henley

I sit out on the deck overlooking the ocean. What is she doing in there? I glance at my watch; she’s taking forever to get ready.

I have never felt so relaxed and sated. This trip really was needed. I didn’t realize how much I needed to get away.

The wind whips through my hair, and I smile into it. I glance at my watch again.

We are going to be late. What the hell is she doing in there?

I walk back into the bedroom and open the bathroom door; I take a step back. What the . . . ?

Juliet is wearing a long dark wig and has a full face of sexy makeup. She’s in white sheer suspender stockings and a matching sheer bra.

My eyes drop down her body, and my mouth falls open.

This is so unexpected . . .

She’s bending over the sink, and my eyes meet hers in the mirror as my cock begins to throb.

She turns and drops to her knees in front of me. “Threesome-loving swinger at your service, sir.” She unzips my trousers and takes me into her mouth as she fists me hard.

My head tips back in ecstasy. “Fuck.” I grab her face between my two hands and slide deep down her throat. I stare at her beautiful face, so innocent and sweet, yet the dirty, dirty whore that I need.

I know exactly where I’ll be in five years.

Married to her.

Chapter 25

What?

She sucks me hard, and I clench my cock down her throat as my body takes over.

The need to fuck ravages my soul.

This is a trap.

The walls begin to close in around me: her dark wig, the lingerie.

Her perfect mouth. Her eyes flutter shut as she slurps and sucks me loudly. “You taste so good.”

She wants to get married.

Her legs spread wider on the floor, and I drag her to her feet and spin her toward the mirror and bend her over. I rub my finger over her perfect asshole.

I want her here. I want her to feel as vulnerable in this as I do.

She whimpers as she throws her head back in pleasure.

I hate that I have no control over myself with her.

When we are in the moment, which is all the fucking time now . . . she owns me.

And she fucking knows it.

I hear my heartbeat in my ears as arousal takes me over.

I lift her leg and rest it up on the sink and slide my finger deep into her ass.

My cock is weeping in anticipation.

Her eyes darken as they hold mine in the mirror.

I grab a handful of the dark acrylic hair. “Stop acting fucking innocent, Juliet.”

She throws her head back and moans.

“You want my cock so far up your ass.” I jerk her hard. “Don’t you?”

She whimpers.

“Say it,” I growl. Something has come over me, something dark and sinister, my old traits returning. I can’t play gentle with her anymore.

I am who I am. I want her here like this.

Right now.

I position myself at her back entrance.

“No,” she cries.

My eyes meet hers in the mirror.

“Not like this.”