Page 26 of Rebound

On the TV, Gracie is wearing her ridiculous Bavarian milkmaid outfit and beating the crap out of Eric on stage at the beauty pageant inMiss Congeniality. Learning how to fight should definitely go on my list of “things I’ve never done before but want to.” Making myself stronger in every way I can is a top priority. It will be a lot easier to work on my body than it will be to work on my mind. These days, my mind is all over the place, and right now, it’s still in bed with Elijah.

I told him it can’t happen again. Except…

Even thinking about what we did is making me squirm. There’s a dull but insistent ache building between my thighs that has me wriggling around on the couch, wishing I had something to rub against other than the seam of my PJs. My fingers might be a poor substitute for Elijah’s tongue and huge cock, but they’re a lot less complicated.

My phone beeps to tell me I have a message. It’s from Martha, telling me she’s home after a fun night out with some strangers she befriended after I left. She included a photo of her wearing my coat and drinking a cocktail, raising the glass to the camera. It makes me smile, and I quickly type out another apology, promising to set a new date very soon. I owe her.

As I finish up, a new message lands. This one is from Elijah, and I suck in a deep breath before I open it. What if it’s a dick pic?

It won’t be. Elijah isn’t that kind of guy, but part of me wishes he was. Maybe I should take a photo of myself with my hand inside my panties to get the ball rolling…

No!Stop right there, Amber.This is madness. I need to get control of my brain, my libido, and my life in general. My hands shake slightly as I touch the screen.

I’ve left something for you on the step. And just to be clear, there is nothing going on between me and Ashley. There is only one woman I have any interest in.

That’s me, right? With a flutter of nervous excitement in my belly, I put my phone down and head to the front door. It’s been a long time since Elijah gave me a gift, and given the turbulent state of our relationship right now, it could be anything. Diamond ring. Giant vibrator. Eviction notice. Rattlesnake. All of the above.

I do believe him about Ashley though. I was caught unaware by seeing him. And seeing him with another woman snapped something in me I didn’t even know was there. But his shock when I confronted him was genuine. Besides, Elijah is many things—a liar isn’t one of them.

I pause at the front door before I open it. I probably shouldn’t be prancing around outside in my PJs this late. Maybe I should go to the control room and watch the video feed to find out what’s out there waiting for me. We don’t have live-in staff, but we do have a lot of cameras and alarms. We’re rich, and rich people apparently need these things.

I smile at the memory of when a personal safety specialist came to the house a few years ago. He was here to review our security arrangements and was concerned at my lack of bodyguard and how I roamed around New York without protection. He told Elijah I was a kidnapping risk. Elijah looked at me and, completely deadpan, said, “I can guarantee you that anyone foolish enough to kidnap my wife would end up offeringusa ransom to take her back.”

Even then, I thought it was funny. And true. Now, though, as I hesitantly open the door, it crosses my mind that I feel more vulnerable than I used to. This house is too big, and I really don’t want to stay here alone. The street is predictably quiet, in the heart of the city but secluded from the usual urban chaos. There’s a small cardboard package on the top step, and I crouch down to collect it.

After locking up, I take it back to the living room and find a phone inside. Why has he given me a phone? And not even a particularly nice model. It’s a simple thing, the kind you pick up in a convenience store. It’s unpackaged and, I see when I switch it on, charged up. There’s already a message from a number I don’t recognize. I click on it.

This is Elijah. We met earlier. If you want to see me again, use this number. It can be our secret. Nobody need ever know.

Fuck. My own husband sent me a burner phone. My own husband is offering to keep our hookups a secret.

My own husband is inviting me to have an affair with him.

A thrill of excitement shoots through me.

My answer should be no. It should be an emphatichellno. I should throw the damn phone in the trash and forget tonight ever happened. It’s a crazy idea, and it won’t end well. So why is there a smile on my face and a kaleidoscope of butterflies in my belly?

I feel like I’m being torn in half. My head is telling me one thing; my heart—and a few other body parts—are telling me another. Could we actually do this? Are we capable of having an affair? Can we put our emotions and the complications of our life together in a neat little box and keep them separate? There’s no denying the appeal of his offer, and the idea of it being clandestine makes it all the more alluring. I’ve never had an affair—and isn’t this supposed to be a time in my life where I rack up some firsts? Something to add to, and subsequently tick off, my bucket list.

I stand here in the middle of the room, biting my lip. I’m so nervous, but in a good way. Like when Elijah and I first met. When I was really into him but wasn’t sure how he felt about me. I was a teenager then, though, and now I’m forty. I shouldn’t be standing here hopping from one foot to another, wondering what to do.

But I knew my answer as soon as I read his message. Hell, I knew as soon as I walked out of his hotel room earlier. It’s probably all kinds of insane, but god, I want it. And don’t I deserve to get a little of what I want? Don’t we both?

Nobody will know? Not even my husband?

I stare at the screen after I’ve hit send, imagining him waiting for a response from me. Is he as excited as I am? Is he as worried and nervous and turned on?

Especially not him.

Then I’d like to see you again. But promise me you won’t tell anybody.

I promise. This is just for the two of us. The rest of the world can go to hell.

I clasp the phone to my chest and press my lips together, suppressing my excitement. Until I realize I’m completely alone and can kick my feet and squeal like a teenage girl all I want. So that’s exactly what I do.

ChapterFifteen

AMBER

---