Page 85 of Bourbon and Proof

He’s watching me now that he’s finished speaking with one of the staff, and I hold up the bottle of his bourbon. His stoic gaze has hints of a smile, as if he knows exactly what’s happening over here.

“Oh, I think Daddy likes you,” she says with a hint of humor.

Biting my lip, I pluck the two glasses off the bar. “Oh, Daddy more than likes me.” I raise an eyebrow as I lean in to tell her, “That’s my husband.”

I miss the look on her face because my eyes are locked on his. I know he was watching this entire exchange.

“Are you behaving?” he asks as I reach him.

“Never,” I say on a laugh, taking a sip of bourbon directly from the bottle.

Reaching up, his hand cups my face as he whispers against my lips, “Such a brat.”

I smile and wiggle my eyebrows. “Want to punish me?”

I nearly combust on the spot at the way his eyes flare. As butterflies flap wildly in my stomach, he lifts my arm above my head and gives me a spin. “I want to show you what happens when you trust me.” Pressing a kiss to my wrist, he growls, “And, fuck yes, I want to punish you.”

It feelslike walking into box seats of an intimate theater. Our host ushers us to a grouping of plush leather chairs sectioned off only by waist-height partitions. The open-air space is the voyeur's lounge, with the focal point on the space slightly below.There’s a satin bed and velvet chair in the center, and a wall lined with toys that range from crops and floggers to dildos and nipple clamps and everything in between. It’s not nerves ticking my pulse higher; it’s the sheer anticipation of watching something taboo—and doing it with a man who turns me on in the simplest of ways.

“A reminder,” the host says. “This is not a performance. There will be no need for clapping, cheering, or other auditory remarks from the audience. You’re welcome to enjoy it in any and every way you would like.Please feel free to press that button there.” He nods to the small, framed button on the wall, not too different from the one on the roof deck of my townhouse. “I’ve been informed that you are both VIPs, so whatever you need, at any time, please do not hesitate to ask.” His attention shifts to me. “And if at any time, miss, you are uncomfortable, or would simply like something from the house, please press that button as well.” He looks to Ace. “You may ask your female guest for something you would like, but this is a reminder that regardless of how you arrived, this is a ladies' choice venue. What she prefers is respect. Always.”

My husband simply nods at the host in confirmation, and then he leaves, the door snicking shut behind him. It’s the one thing I never questioned with Ace. He isn’t the kind of man to take what isn’t offered. And while I love that this particular establishment caters to the way things should always be, when it comes to him, I’ve only ever felt safe.

As soon as we sit, his arm drapes over my crossed legs, his hand feeling the lace of my dress that goes past my thighs and half-way down to my calves.

The woman who steps into the space ahead draws my attention; it’s the same woman I spoke with at the bar. That same confidence she had out there is in overdrive in here as sheshrugs off her wrap dress, walks around the room, and sizes up her partner as if she’s deciding if he’s worthy.

Ace leans closer as he asks, “Are you ready for this?”

My mouth tips up into a coy smile. “I’m not sure watching people toy with each other will ever be as good as watching you slide your cock into me.”

He barely lets me finish the thought before he’s kissing me momentarily breathless. Shifting back, his lips still hover over mine as he says, “Right answer. Maybe you’re a good girl, after all,wife.”

I laugh at that. “Of all the things I am, dear husband, a good girl is not, and never will be, one of them.” I tip my head to the side. “But that’s exactly what drives you wild, isn’t it?”

His hand squeezes my thigh. The eagerness I feel whenever he touches me sparks along every inch of my body, well aware of where we are and that we’re not alone. Maybe that makes it even more heady.

“And you like it when I say things that make your tighties tent,” I tease.

I smile and gaze into his pretty eyes, intense as they look back at me. His plush mouth and the way he smells like the oak barrels at home and the clementines on my nightstand have me dizzy on this man.

He exhales a low hum. “Then what kind of praise would you prefer?” he asks while working his hand slowly down my leg. He gathers the lace of my dress as he moves from my calf up to my knee and settles on my thigh again.

I glance around and make out the shapes of other people, but it’s too dim with the way the lights are strategically placed to see much more. The space is intimate and, if I had to guess, no more than twenty people are spaced throughout. Cocktail servers are taking drink and prop orders before things begin. My body nearly shivers with excitement at not knowing who or whatwe’ll witness, but I’m turned on simply by the vibes and the man molded against my side.

“I’ll settle for adjectives that better describe me—exceptional, exquisite. And then you can always throw in: queen, wife, sugar, or simply...” I pause and articulate the last with a bratty smile. “Mine.” I’ve thought about all the things he’s ever said around me, andthoseare instant panty-dampers.

I sink into the side of his body as his fingers move lightly over my shoulder, aimlessly. Turning my head, I watch him pour and sip his bourbon. When he glances at me, his lips tilt up. “How are you feeling?”

“Warm and a little needy,” I say honestly. A part of me swoons at him even asking.

The huskiness in his voice sends a delicious shiver through me as he whispers in my ear, “Still trust me, then?” He pushes my hair away from my neck so that he can drag his lips across the edge of my shoulder.

I release a breathy exhale at the slow and deliberate pace of his movements. “Yes,” I whisper with a smile.

His fingers glide across the edges of my dress, along my collarbone, and down the slope of my breast. When I part my lips, he’s quick to remind me to be nice and quiet. Dragging my dress up over my hips, he fists the lace so it pulls taut against my skin. “This looks beautiful on you.”

“It will be more beautiful off of me.” He’s too much fun to push. I bite my lower lip. “I know you have a thing for panties. These are rather pretty, don’t you think?”

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