Page 39 of Opening It Up
But I was burning with jealousy to get her to myself.
“I’ll be right back,” Lily-Mae laughed. “Maybe you can leg wrestle for it.”
My eyes followed her as she left the room and I instantly got up and pursued.
By the time I got to the hallway, she was already in the bathroom, so I paced up and down outside.
Come on, I was supposed to be so good with words.
“Why don’t we spend the day together?” I asked as soon as she emerged, catching at her sleeve.
“Silly,” she chuckled, brushing me off. “It’s not Friday night.”
“We don’t have to only spend time together on Friday nights,” I said, realizing to my horror my voice had risen to a whine.
She raised her eyebrows.
“What’s the problem?” she asked.
“I don’t like this at all. You aremywife.”
“You don’t like what?”
“How our open marriage is going. I don’t like having to wait in line for my own wife.”
“Oh, Harley,” she said, patting me kindly on the shoulder. “You’ll get used to less attention from me.”
“I don’t want less attention from you!” I cried.
She poked her head in and looked at Kaylee. Or was it Kayleigh? Fuck, I sucked at this.
“She seems nice,” my wife said nicely.
“I hate her,” I said passionately. “I only want you, baby! I’m sick of this shit! I want my wife back!”
But she was already heading back into the café.
My shoulders slumping, I went back and sat down, my lunch untouched in front of me.
“So you have an open marriage?” Kaylee/Kayleigh asked encouragingly. “Want to go out sometime?”
“No,” I said, staring down at my hands. They trembled ever so slightly as my fingers tightened around my coffee cup. “I’m not going out with anyone besides my wife.”
I hoped Lily-Mae heard this, but Leopold and Brayden were arguing so loudly.
“You knowIcan go again right away,” Brayden said, leaning forward and resting his obscenely muscled arms on the café table. “He’sgonna need like 45 minutes and three whiskeys to go again.”
Leopold only snorted. “No one needs you jackhammering away for hours. Quality is more important. How many times haveyoumade her squirt?”
Squirt? I had never seen my wife squirt in her life.
Before I could stop myself, I whirled around and clutched my wife’s arm.
“Emergency,” I gasped. “We have to go.”
“What’s the emergency?” she asked skeptically.
“The washer, it’s—making a--funny noise.”
