The Mammoth Book of Threesomes and Moresomes Read Free Page A

warmth Richard’s fingers had kindled in my wrist shot up my arm. My nipples tightened, fuelled by the intensity in his gaze.
    Left momentarily speechless, I licked my lips. He focused on them, parted his as though he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.
    When he finally spoke, his tone took on a sharp edge. “How long will you hold my mistake against me?” His grip tightened on my wrist. Pain flowered in a savage burst that chased the lingering flash of awareness from my skin. “Another year? Two? Twenty? I need to know.” He sucked in a breath. “I need to know, because if you won’t put the past behind us, I’ll—”
    “You’ll what?” I yanked my hand away and slammed my open palm on to the table. The silverware clattered. A few heads turned in our direction and I could hear curious murmurs from the diners around us. “Leave me? Fine, then. Leave me.”
    He furrowed his brows and slanted a glance at our neighbours. “Why not?” His voice was a low, violent whisper that hit me with the force of a slap. “You left me long ago.”
    Abruptly, Richard leaned back in his chair and signalled the waiter. “You want to punish me, Dana? You’ll do it tonight. You’re going to get it out of your system, teach me a lesson, show me the error of my ways. And in the morning, you’ll let me prove to you that I’ve spent the last six years regretting what I’ve done.”
    The waiter hurried over, and I had to bite my tongue while he cleared our plates. Knowing Richard watched me, I looked the boy over again. He was young, maybe twenty-three, maybe slightly older. Dark stubble cast a shadow over his lean cheeks and square jaw. He’d slicked back his hair, allowing a light brown strand to escape and curl over his forehead for that 1950s movie star allure. He probably thought it made him look cool. I thought it only made him look younger.
    I homed in on his behind as he walked away, admiring the smooth flex of the cheeks beneath the bulky fabric of his uniform pants. A sigh flew from my lips as I contemplated the myriad wicked things I could do to that ass if I only had a dollop of that whipped cream I’d been craving.
    He disappeared behind the swinging kitchen doors, and I turned back. The Saturday night crowd was surprisingly loud for such a posh place, only Richard and I sat in silence, the weight of our stillness a marked contrast to the laughter and buzzing energy around us. I waited for him to say something first, to chastise my lecherous behaviour or let me in on his plan, but he simply watched me. The impulse to squirm in my seat made every muscle in my body coil with tension, but I didn’t move an inch.
    Whatever happened, I was suddenly glad I hadn’t stayed home tonight. This evening would decide the fate of our marriage once and for all, and I was relieved to know the end was near. We couldn’t go on like this.
    I couldn’t go on like this.
    “Will there be anything else, sir?”
    I glanced up, startled. I hadn’t noticed the waiter approach.
    “Yes. Hold up a minute.” Richard pulled out his wallet and opened it to reveal a fat stack of hundred-dollar bills.
    I watched the waiter’s eyes widen. “I’ll bring your check.”
    Richard smiled. It was a nasty, predatory smile that sent a shiver crawling down my spine and a rush of wanton anxiety pooling between my legs.
    “This isn’t for the restaurant. It’s for you.”
    The waiter’s throat worked as he swallowed hard. His gaze flicked from Richard to me.
    I shrugged. I wanted to tell him that this was all for my benefit, that he was no more than a pawn in a game that would end badly for all of us. I didn’t, though. I took another sip of champagne and let the bubbles take the edge off my nerves.
    He turned back to my husband. “I don’t understand.”
    “What’s your name, son?” Richard asked, pocketing his wallet.
    “Brent.”
    Richard crooked his finger, beckoning Brent closer. The boy dropped to a crouch and