Page 84 of Marry Lies
I open my mouth to tell her we can go however far she feels comfortable going when my phone pings loudly. I plan on ignoring it, but then it happens again a few seconds later.
“Let me just turn it on silent,” I tell her, feeling irritated with whoever is trying to get ahold of me.
My eyes catch on the two text messages that flash across my screen.
Luna
They’re waiting
I’m happy to send them home, if you’d prefer. :)
I set my phone down and place my hands on Estelle’s hips. My usual evening activities were forgotten when I was pressing my wife against the wall of our dining room. Suddenly, an idea occurs to me.
“It’s just Luna. It appears we have company.”
Estelle gives me a confused smile. “We do?”
Running a hand up under her shirt, I give her a knowing smirk. “In the cellar.” I pause, wondering her answer to my next question. “Would you like to join me?”
“Yes, please.”
That’s all the answer I need.
CHAPTERTWENTY
THE VOYEUR
Stella
Miles leaves me to change, and adrenaline rushes through me at the prospect of joining him in the cellar this evening. I’d planned on listening to one of my audiobooks since the night was still young, but this was way more enticing than one of my smutty books. He told me to wear something comfortable, so I decide on a simple short green dress with puff sleeves. I keep my hair down and slip into sandals before heading out of the bedroom.
Miles is leaning against the pink couch, arms crossed, wearing a fitted white button-down with his signature gold cufflinks, Cartier watch and belt, and navy trousers. My heart hammers in my chest as he pushes off the couch, walking over to me.
Stopping right in front of me, he places a hand on my cheek. “Gorgeous. As always.” His fingers trail down to the sweetheart neckline, playing with the ruffles for a second before he steps back. “Shall we?” he asks, offering his hand.
“Yes,” I answer a little breathlessly, taking it.
He doesn’t let go of my hand until we get to the cellar door, and the hair on the back of my neck continues to stand on end due to the electricity thrumming between us.
“Are you ready?” he asks, reaching into his pocket for a key. I nod, and he gives me a sidelong smile. “The viewing room is mirrored on their side, so they won’t be able to see us. While I’ve had the cellar outfitted with speakers, their room is soundproof—so they won’t be able to hear us, either.”
“I’m ready,” I tell him a little too eagerly.
He pushes the door open and helps me down the dark staircase. I follow him to the door that I now know leads to the glass room, or theviewing room, as he called it. He opens the door, and my breath catches when I see a new couple kissing on the bed. The woman has long, dark hair and golden skin. She’s wearing black lingerie, and her partner is a muscled man with a beard. She’s sitting on the bed, and he’s leaning down to kiss her, still fully clothed in dark jeans and a gray T-shirt.
“Come here,” Miles murmurs, leading me to the couch. He turns me around so that I’m facing away from him.
To sit on his lap,I realize.
He tugs at my hips, pulling me down.
His firm thighs are warm underneath me, and every inch of my skin is hot and needy. My eyes flutter closed as he moves my hair away from my neck and presses a kiss to sensitive skin there just as his hands rove to my hips, squeezing once.
“What do we do?” I whisper, though I know the couple can’t hear me.
“Just watch, butterfly,” he murmurs, his voice vibrating down my spine.
My eyes snap open as I watch the couple before me. The man pulls away and removes his shirt, showcasing a muscled, taut abdomen. The woman watches him with hooded eyes, and I notice for the first time that her lingerie is sheer. Her hands come to her nipples, and she massages them as she watches her partner undress.
