Page 2 of Naughty Wishes

“Not a stranger.” He takes the card from my hand and carefully removes the coupon. “Aiden Steadman.”

“Aiden Steadman?” My voice rises to a shriek, and not just because I know Aiden, but because he is about the hottest thing to hit our town in forever, and the least likely person I could ever imagine with a thirty-five-year-old married mother of two like me. “The kids’ new dentist? He’s coming to our house to have a ménage? Are you crazy?” I put my hand on Dan’s forehead. “You are a little warm. Maybe you have a fever. Peter had that terrible cold last week . . .”

“I’m not crazy.” He opens the card and pulls out the coupon. “I’ve already talked to him about it, and he’s really excited.”

“I’ll bet he is,” I mutter. “How old is he? Thirty?”

“Actually, I think he’s around our age.”

“And he has nothing better to do with his time than hang out in bed with us?”

“Kylie.” His voice takes on an admonishing tone. “Don’t be so negative.”

“And just how did that conversation go?” I take a stab at mocking Dan’s deep voice. “Hey, Aiden. Thanks for doing that emergency filling for Peter. And by the way, do you want to come over on Saturday for dinner and a ménage with my wife?”

“No dinner,” Dan says. “He’s got plans.”

“Plans for another ménage? He’s a dentist, Dan. Dentists aren’t kinky.”

Dan’s lips quiver in a smile. “Apparently he is. I think that might be why he got divorced back in Ohio. He didn’t say, but my guess is that his wife wasn’t into that stuff.”

“And we are?” I push myself off the bed and tighten the belt on my robe. “Come on, Dan. What’s gotten into you? Last year, when I wanted to buy a vibrator, you told me they ruined female orgasms. You can’t deal with toys in bed, but you can deal with another man?”

“Aiden.” He follows me across the bed and sits on the edge, his gaze on me.

“Aiden,” I repeat. “The ménage king of our lovely Revival, Montana.”

“He likes you, babe.” Dan tugs on my belt and draws me over to him. “He thinks you have nice teeth.”

“Well, thank God for that. It might ruin the mood if I had cavities.” I pull to a stop between his spread legs and a thrill of arousal shoots through me. Before our sex life succumbed to the rigors of babies, work, and exhaustion, Dan always had to be in control in the bedroom. I hadn’t slept with many men before him, but his dominance aroused me, and although our play never went beyond soft restraints and the occasional slap on the bottom, he opened me up to possibilities I would have been more than happy to pursue if I hadn’t gotten pregnant so damn fast and he shut it all down.

Over the years, the play times became fewer and sex became mechanical, with the sole purpose of getting us both off as quickly as possible so we didn’t lose any precious sleep. By the time our oldest started middle school, we had drifted apart so far, I figured there was no going back. And why rock the boat? We were comfortable together. Wasn’t that all that mattered?

“Kylie.” He tugs on my belt and my robe falls open to reveal the cheap satin nightgown that does little to hide the evidence of my post-baby spread. “I feel like I’m losing you and I don’t know what else to do. I picked up one of your romance books last month and saw the three people on the cover . . . we talked about having someone else join us when we first got together . . . you said it was one of your fantasies . . . I figured if you were still interested enough to read about it . . .”

“It’s not real.” I snatch the ends of my belt from his hands and tie my robe tight. Fifteen years ago, I loved my curves, but now I wonder if my curves have driven Dan away. Maybe he doesn’t find me attractive anymore, and he needs to go to this kind of extreme to get off.

“Neither are we.”

“It was a nice thought,” I say. “But it’s just not going to happen. I know you—”

“Saturday night.” His low, commanding tone startles me, and I shiver, remembering the days when I thought I could come just from the sound of his voice. “The boys are having a sleepover at the Richardsons’ house. Aiden will be here at eight. Make sure you have something nice to wear.” His lips quiver at the corners. “Or not.”

My mouth drops open in a most unbecoming way. Who is this man and where did he dredge up the sex god he used to be fifteen years ago?

“What if I say no?”

He rounds the bed and flips back the covers, then settles back on his pillow as if it were any other night and not the night he gave me a ménage for my birthday. “What if you say yes?”

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