Wives with Benefits: Volume One Read Free

this time of night in the middle of the week.
    “Might be nice to have company, don’t you think?” she found herself giggling, and tried to hide the fact that she needed to briefly clutch the wall with her fingertips to keep from toppling over.
    “Company is a nice thing to have,” he smiled, his eyes now roaming her body again, sensing that he was permitted, Alice feeling herself warming up as his gaze dwelled on that little dress of hers.
    He stepped up beside her, and she apologized, said: “I don’t normally do this, you know.”
    “Of course,” he said, polite, friendly. “But tonight is a special night.”
    “Something like that,” she giggled again. She never giggled, particularly for the benefit of men. Jesus. She felt curiously light-headed.
    She was playing with her hair now, as they wandered the long halls. God, this hotel was a labyrinth. What was she doing? She was a married woman. Or was she?
    Well, to Hell with Mark and his stripper underwear.
    “Do you think I’m awful?” she asked.
    “Not at all,” he said, laughing himself now.
    She paused in the hallway, as though momentarily lost, but as he was about to quietly ask her room number, she surprised both of them by stepping in front of him, so that she had to walk backwards a few steps to keep him from knocking into her — and then she was pulling him into her, kissing his mouth. Tasting the bourbon on his breath, which made him seem so very exotic somehow, not at all like beer-drinker Mark.
    They were laughing like teenagers fooling around under the bleachers.
    He was kissing her now, and they were whirling around and around in the corridor as though they were waltzing to some unheard music.
    Jesus, what was she doing?
    She didn’t even know his name. He was stepping up behind her, snatching little kisses on her shoulder, the side of her neck. Oh, was this the biggest mistake ever? He was so hot. And he wanted her!
    She skipped a couple of steps forward again, then paused, forcing him to knock into her this time, so she could fling her arms around his neck, suck on his lips, feel that dangerous tongue of his slip inside her mouth — the wet feeling of his mouth on hers, so real somehow, and so wicked.
    Jesus, they were at her room now. This was huge.
    “I’m not normally like this,” she said, unable to keep from beaming so broadly it hurt her cheeks a little.
    “No, me neither,” he smiled that wonderful sugar smile again, and his friendly countenance suggested he accepted her word that this was a chance in a million thing, that this was totally out of character for her.
    She already had her room key in her hand — it had appeared as if from nowhere, her hands retrieving it from her tony purse on autopilot, willing her to get inside that room without hassle, to get her companion in that room.
    Door opened, and even before they were inside, he was pushing up against her, pressing her to the door itself, molding his mouth to hers.
    Then the door was closed, and she was a married woman in a hotel room with a stranger, and his hands were all over her body as she kissed him, both of them panting as they locked lips.
    Oh God, she was on fire, her whole body ablaze, the focus of the inferno lying clearly between her thighs.
    She pushed him over to the wall, pressing herself on him now, raising a knee to rub it up his thigh, inviting his hand to check out her curves, sweep around to her rear as she continued to kiss him.
    Then she was stepping away, letting herself be led by her body, ignoring the clamor in her mind that said this was all wrong, that she hadn’t even tried to talk things through with her husband, that revenge sex could solve nothing.
    Well, if he could have his little indiscretion, she could have hers. Why should she be the only one that had to forgive and forget?
    She was falling back onto the bed, letting him crawl over her.
    “What’s your name?” he asked her now, and she wanted to tell him, but what came out of her