Page 43 of Say You Love Me

“I don’t know.” Finity looks down at herself. “I’m already in my bathrobe.” But I know that’s not the reason she’s saying no.

“Oh come on.” I get to my feet and hold my hands out to help her up. “Let’s do it. Let’s get dressed and have some fun.”

She allows me to pull her to her feet. “Is it because…”

She leaves the word hanging. “Because what?” I prompt as we climb the stairs. I act innocent, pretend that I don’t know what she’s alluding to.

She flashes me a smile then her eyes fall to our joined hands. “Never mind. I’m game. Let’s do this.”

She wants to wear something simple, jeans and a nice top, but I pull out one of her dresses. It’s one that hugs her figure and shows off her curves. She’s starting to get them again. Being home has been good for her. Finity has amazing thighs and the dress looks magnificent on her. She hasn’t worn it in years and it brings back floods of memories of us dancing in the club, holding her flush against my body and whispering in her ear.

She’s quiet during our ride to the city. I want to ask her what she’s thinking about, but I’m scared of the answer. The club isn’t one we’ve been to before. It’s new. And it’s crowded. We have to push our way through the throng of writhing bodies to make it to the bar. I order us both shots, knowing that she needs something to calm her nerves. She keeps glancing around the room, looking for Rylee. I can’t tell whether she’s hoping to find him or not.

But when he does appear, she’s not the one to see him. I am. Our eyes meet over the rise of the crowd, but they only connect for a few seconds before his gaze moves to Finity. He drinks in the sight of her. How she never noticed his complete adoration of her before is beyond me. The guy craves her.

She still doesn’t notice him as he pushes his way through the crowd, so I pull her tight to my body and grab her ass, squeezing the flesh tightly, staking my claim while staring at Rylee. His jaw twitches. He doesn’t like seeing my hands on her but he knows the only way he’ll be allowed near her is with my permission.

Finity’s eyes snap to mine and I tilt her chin up with my finger before kissing her passionately, deeply. I know he’s watching. I can feel his gaze. It burns like molten lava and ignites a swell of exhilaration. Finity pushes into me, always so hopeful, so eager. She’s breathless by the time I pull away, her body gravitating toward me as though she wants me to take her here, now, in the middle of all these people. Briefly, I wonder if I could. If she would stop me. I doubt it.

But then Rylee pushes his way through the crowd. He plasters on a big smile and reaches for Finity’s hand.

“Come dance with me,” he pleads, tugging her away. His eyes dart between hers and mine, though he’s not asking for permission this time, he’s taking it. Bold. Finity turns back, her hand outstretched, beckoning me to come with them. I shake my head as Rylee leads her through the crowd.

They stop in the middle, close enough for me to watch Rylee’s hands slide around my wife’s waist and hers loop around his neck. He laughs and talks in her ear, shouting to be heard over the beat of the music. Her head keeps turning to find me, but he brings her attention back to him, his finger guiding her chin. The more they dance the bolder he becomes. His hands run up and down her back until finally, they dip to her ass. He looks at me over her shoulder as he does it, almost a challenge.

I know he wants her all for himself.

But he can only have her with my permission.

She is mine.

Finity does not look at him the way she looks at me. She doesn’t crave his body. She craves mine. It’s not his mouth that she longs to have on her skin. It’s mine. It’s not his name she wants to scream out in a moment of passion. It’s mine.

But I know she will do all those things if I ask her to.

Because she is mine.

Tossing the remainder of my drink down my throat, I stalk through the crowd toward them. Rylee’s mouth is dangerously close to her neck. His lips brush over her skin as he whispers in her ear. Her back is pressed to his chest as they sway in time to the music. When he sees me approaching, his hands move up her stomach until they crush her breasts. I know how soft and heavy they feel. I know what the sensation of touching her will be doing to him.

He breathes in deeply as his hands massage her flesh, and then he pulls her dress to the side, exposing her shoulder, her bare, strapless shoulder. She’s not wearing a bra. No wonder there’s a look of pure ecstasy on his face. When he moves his hands away her nipples are peaked through the material of her dress, making me want to pinch them, suck them, bite them.

When Finity opens her eyes and sees me, she smiles. It’s slow and seductive. All I have to do is crook my finger at her and she peels herself away from him, wraps her hands around my neck and pushes her body against mine. I ignore the heat in Rylee’s gaze as I crush her against me, pushing my knee between her legs, grabbing her ass and grinding against her. She responds by pressing a hesitant kiss to my lips. I lift one hand to cup the back of her head and kiss her deeply. She moans, and by the look on Rylee’s face, I know he hears. His hand raises as if to touch her shoulder, but then he decides against it and fades into the crowd. Finity doesn’t even know he’s gone. I stop kissing her long enough to whisper in her ear.

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

She’s a little drunk and wobbles as she takes a step back to look at me. “I want you to fuck me.” She says it breathlessly, her eyes dark, her lips full and puffy from my kiss.

I jerk her close. A huff of air leaves her as she’s crushed against my chest. “I already know that,” I hiss in her ear. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“I’m not wearing any underwear.”

My cock surges. My hands fall to her ass and caress her cheeks, searching for the telltale line of underwear. There is none. She’s completely bare beneath the dress. I groan, pushing my hardness against her, imagining the sight of her naked. How did I not notice before? How did I not feel the lack of friction under my hands?

Rylee is over at the bar. He tosses drink after drink down his throat. He glances over at us, and I lift the hem of her dress just enough so he can see her bare ass cheek. His eyes darken. I can see the rise and fall of his chest as his breath quickens. I lower the dress again, leaving the rest to his imagination. The barman places something small into his hands and then he weaves his way back through the crowd, his eyes a little more glazed than they were before. When he reaches us he opens his hand, showing me the colored pills placed inside. “You want some?”

Finity’s eyes widen. “Rylee, you shouldn’t be—”

I grab two of the pills and place them on my tongue. There’s no hesitation. I’ve done it before, just not for years. But right now, I want to forget everything. I want to lose myself in the moment. Lose myself in her. Have her lose herself in him.

---