Chapter 6
Dexter
I hang out with Dad in my office because he’s the only one not talking about the possibility of a post-wedding reception in Florida.
Mom clearly still feels left out by the elopement.
He talks about his new hobby: pickleball. More than once, I make him explain what a “dink” is. Something about a two-hundred-pound guy demonstrating and saying “dink” is hilarious.
The other reason I’m shooting the breeze?
It’s the first night Sabrina will sleep in my bedroom.
I’m as nervous as a teenager on his first date. We’ve spent countless hours together, even vacationing frequently. But we’ve always had our own rooms and never ventured beyond the friendship that came naturally from the beginning.
Living with her has made very clear that friendship is no longer enough for me. I’ll never force the issue, but my body isn’t as understanding. I can barely watch her load the dishwasher without getting hard.
Sharing a bed with my wife will be torture.
“It’s past midnight, you guys.” Mom taps Dad’s shoulder before giving me a hug. “Aren’t you tired, honey?”
“Actually, now that you’ve mentioned it,” my dad says, stretching.
“I meant Dexter! You didn’t play a hockey game tonight, my dear,” she says with a playful poke to his chest.
He takes her hand and kisses the knuckles. Julia and I roll our eyes at our parents’ blatant displays of affection.
“Where’s Sabrina?” I ask as we walk to the living room.
Julia hooks her arm into my elbow. “She’s getting ready upstairs. You can thank me later.”
My sister winks.
“Huh?!” I swallow the tight ball of uncertainty lodged in my throat because Sabrina is in my bedroom.
Oh, shit! Sabrina is in my bedroom!
I didn’t have time to wrap her gifts, thinking I’d have till tomorrow. Dammit, that’ll ruin my surprise!
Did I leave her gifts out or tuck them away? I can’t remember. Maybe she won’t even go into the walk-in closet.
Entering the bedroom, I notice the bathroom door is closed with the light on inside.
Whew, that’s good. While she’s finishing up in there, I’ll put my gifts on a tall shelf and get ready for bed.
A bed in which Sabrina will be sleeping inches away.
Down, boy, I say to my traitorous dick pointing up at the ceiling. I need to tighten the leash on my lust. I’m not some horny teenager; I’m a man in a complicated situation. My brain needs to take charge of my body.
Frustrated, I burst into the walk-in closet.
Before me is an image that knocks the air out of my lungs.
Sabrina is inside, her back to the full-length mirror as she twists to get a view of the fullest, roundest ass I’ve ever seen.
I see red. Literally. Her red outfit is gorgeous, ending at the top of her thighs and barely covering the outline of a matching G-string. She jumps in surprise, making her breasts bounce in their lacy cages.
With a high-pitched voice, she rambles, “Oh shit, I . . . I couldn’t see the full outfit in the bathroom. And, um, and Julia said this is supposed to end at the . . . at the . . . oh my god, Dex!”
She’s nearly shrill, embarrassment tipping over to panic. “Say something normal or get out, please!” she screeches.
Her hands wrap over her front to cover her breasts and apex, but the movement makes her bend forward. My eyes focus on the mirror where her ass is tilted up.
My brain is no longer in charge.
“Those can’t be my only two choices, Sabrina,” I say, taking a step forward. “You can’t be this fucking hot and expect me to walk away.”
My voice is so hoarse with lust, I don’t sound human.
“And there’s nothing normal about what I want to say.”
Her eyes roam my face. Sabrina’s body sways, as if she isn’t on steady ground.
“Say it,” she rasps.
I close our distance and get a whiff of the lavender aroma of her night lotion. My gaze greedily devours her smooth skin and fluttering eyes, her shapely hips and grabbable ass. And when her arms slip down, I get a glimpse of her puckered nipples pushing against the sheer fabric of the bra.
“Turn around,” I order.
As if in a trance, she faces the mirror.
Sabrina staring back at me with undiluted lust feels like I’m in the middle of an erotic dream. There’s something surreal about watching ourselves through the mirror. Somehow, watching our reflections instead of directly looking at each other changes everything.
I’m done holding back.
Nothing short of an apocalypse or Sabrina’s outright rejection will stop me from living out this fantasy.
I graze my fingers over her upper arm, watching a trail of tiny hairs chase the path of my touch.
Her other arm gets equal attention. Sabrina shivers through an unsteady inhale.
She flicks her hair back, exposing the delicate lines of collarbones and the plumpness of breasts pushed up by her crossed arms.
I step closer, letting my erection graze her lower back.
“Every time we kiss, I tell myself it’s the last time,” I whisper into her ear.
“You signed up for a husband, Sabrina, not a lover. That’s what I’ve been telling myself because I keep forgetting.
The more I’m with you, the harder it is to remember why we shouldn’t be kissing every fucking day and all damn night. ”
In the mirror, we continue to stare at each other. My voice is ground in glass.
“I don’t want you to think any part of our arrangement is connected to how much I want you. Do you understand? Me wanting you, craving you, that is entirely separate from helping my best friend.”
“I know, Dex. I know you would never expect that from me. Which is why I, um, oh that feels good,” she gasps as if astounded. “God, why does that feel so good? This is a mistake, isn’t it?”
I don’t answer because this feels like a dream, not a mistake.
“Then why does it feel so fucking good?” she mumbles.
“Good?” I chuckle at the inadequacy of the word. “Good isn’t even close, Sabrina. If we’re about to make a mistake, I promise you it’ll be worth it.”
Her breath hitches and eyes widen. I lower my head in order to graze my lips against her neck, never once unlocking our intense gaze.
“When I’m done with you, you won’t be able to think about tonight without touching yourself. Just remembering my tongue inside your pussy will make you come. And if you let me sink this hard cock into your beautiful body, I’ll fill you in all the ways you need to be pleasured.”
Everything I had been holding back bursts out of me.
Sabrina should probably slap me across the face for saying the unthinkable.
But she doesn’t slap me.
Instead, my wife turns around and uncrosses her arms, giving me an unobstructed view of her quivering breasts. Her diamond-hard nipples beg to be sucked till they rip through the fabric.
“I want you, Dex,” she whimpers desperately. “Whether or not it’s a mistake, I want you.”
Her words crash through all the barriers of friendship like a bulldozer tearing down a wall. I walk over the rubble and press her closer.
“Are you ready, Sabrina? Are you ready for the best mistake we’ll ever make?”