Chapter 1
Los Angeles, CA
Present Day
As he nursed his whiskey, Foster’s gaze drifted to a beautiful blonde flirting with a muscle-bound himbo down the bar.
They were thisclose, her palm on his chest, giggling over whatever he’d just said.
They stared at one another with open lust, their eyes bright and shining.
He couldn’t remember ever looking at anyone with such naked hunger, but maybe he had.
It wasn’t as if he could see himself in those moments.
Foster lifted the glass to his lips, and an old memory popped up. One where someone had looked at him with a lust so profound it had stopped time itself.
The blonde laughed again, breaking him from his thoughts. She flipped her long, perfectly styled hair over one shoulder and peeked down at him, a hint of a smile on her lips.
Foster eyed her, then the man—who glanced his way with clear interest.
The woman slowly spun, straightened her body-hugging LBD, and stalked his way.
She captured Foster’s gaze as she neared.
He couldn’t shake the sensation that in that moment, he was her prey.
She sidled up beside him and slipped her arm over his shoulder.
He could smell the guy’s cologne on her, mixing with her own lighter, floral scent.
“Are you coming down to meet him or not, Foster?”
Foster glanced down at the guy again before turning to his wife, still unsure this was the right way to save their failing decade-long marriage.
Intimacy was key, in his opinion. Bringing in others might drive a wedge between them.
He’d said as much, but she’d debated it until he’d been too exhausted to argue anymore.
Which was pretty much their marriage in a nutshell.
Ashley always got her way.
“Foster, baby… I want this,” Ashley pouted, her filler-plumped bottom lip protruding almost comically.
Why she felt the need to jump on every fucking trend, Foster had no idea.
She was destroying her lovely face… but the surgeries, fillers, and procedures kept her reasonably happy, so he kept his mouth shut. It was easier that way.
Happy wife, happy life…
That was likely part of the same reason he’d half-heartedly agreed to adding someone else to their bed. He wanted to keep the peace and his wife happy. Sadly, the goalposts for her happiness kept shifting like quicksand under his feet. They’d never get there, no matter what he did.
And he was sick and tired of trying.
“I need… no, we need this.”
“As I’ve said a million times already, I think this a bad idea.”
Ashley’s lips firmed, the light disappearing from her eyes.
“Do you want us to fade away?” Ashley asked. “We’ve lost our spark.”
Did we ever have one?
They’d married because he’d felt pressured.
Not because of some supposed spark. He lifted the tumbler to his lips to prevent that answer from slipping out of his mouth and starting World War III.
Turning his focus down the bar, he glanced at the muscle-bound guy hungrily eyeing his wife.
Their eyes met, and Foster again wanted to refuse.
Foster spun on the stool and captured Ashley’s gaze. “Are you absolutely sure about this?”
Ashley’s lips spread into a slow, syrupy smile as she pressed between his thighs. “I am. And he’s absolutely the right guy for us. This is going to be an amazing night, Fozzie.”
Fozzie. No one had called him that in years. He preferred that she kept it that way.
Foster gazed at their potential third again, and the guy winked before offering a cheesy grin that somehow made him appear a little less smarmy.
He was okay-looking, Foster supposed. Well-built.
Exactly the kind of guy who would snag Ashley’s attention.
Big and stupid, easily manipulated. Though that might be more a dig at himself than the other guy, considering he was the one who’d put a ring on it.
“Are you hesitating because I’m getting a guy and you’re not getting a girl?” Ashley asked as she crossed her arms over her chest. She let out an exasperated sigh. “I told you we can invite a girl next time.”
When her evil glare didn’t work like it normally did, she quickly switched gears.
Ashley leaned closer, her long, lithe body melding against him.
Her firm, fake tits poked him in the chest. She kissed his cheek before whispering in his ear.
“Can’t you see it? Me with you in my mouth while you watch him destroy my pussy. ”
He didn’t want to picture that.
She trailed a blood-red fingernail up his arm, light glinting off her thin gold bangles. “Then you can fuck his cum out of me once he’s gone.”
Any other normal, red-blooded man would have probably gotten an instant hard-on hearing his wife whispering naughty things like that in their ear. Apparently, he wasn’t normal nor red-blooded.
She searched his face, her smile ebbing.
She’s going to blow up any second now.
“Okay,” he said, forcing a smile on his lips to avoid the scene he sensed would come if he hadn’t.
Ashley squealed and wrapped her arms around his neck. A few patrons glanced their way, smiling at Ashley’s apparent joy. They clearly weren’t looking at his face to get the other side of the story.
“We’re gonna have so much fun tonight, babe.”
Foster nodded before she waved over their third for an introduction.
“You’re gonna love Vic.”
Vic ambled over, cradling a bottle of some expensive microbrew in one hand.
Foster pretended to be happy to meet him, forcing another smile that soon made his face sore.
After a short twenty-minute conversation and an even shorter fifteen-minute ride home, Foster stood in the doorframe to their bedroom watching as Vic kissed his wife in the dim light given off by Ashley’s massive closet sitting open.
They hungrily stripped off every piece of clothing.
Once the dress was dragged over Ashley’s head, all she had left was a pair of lacy panties and her bangles.
The peaks of her breasts were bright red and swollen, ready to be suckled and teased.
Vic kicked off his shoes as Ashley unbuckled his belt.
A few buttons undone and his dress shirt floated to the bare hardwood.
Seconds later, Vic was completely bare. Foster’s gaze took in the sight of a naked Vic.
It wasn’t the first man he’d seen in the nude, but it was the first one in his own bedroom.
His gaze trailed over Vic’s brawny, muscled flesh.
Foster wasn’t completely unaffected by the sight.
He stared at Vic’s tight ass and felt the first tiny glimmers of interest.
When he looked at Ashley, that faded.
What came next felt almost out-of-body, a sensation that he wasn’t really there. Dream-like, ethereal, whatever you wanted to call it. Although those words didn’t quite fit, either. They cast an assumption of pleasure that he simply could not feel.
Vic kissed Ashley as he dragged her panties down with one hand and dipped a couple of fingers of his other into her slit.
He massaged her clit, and she loudly moaned her appreciation for his searching fingers.
Ashley’s head fell back, her long hair dancing along her bottom as Vic’s hands worked her over.
She gasped and mewled in his arms, making sounds he’d never heard her make before.
Sounds she’d never made with him.
And he felt absolutely nothing.
He wasn’t hard.
He didn’t want to participate.
If he slowly backed out, they might not notice he’d left until they were too far gone. He took a half step to test his theory—but got caught. Vic turned his attention to Foster and grinned.
“You’ve got too many clothes on, my man. You need to get naked.”
Foster chuckled, the sound a bit hollow. He shuffled his feet and rubbed the back of his neck, the desire to bolt pumping through his veins.
“Don’t tell me you’re shy,” Vic murmured seductively.
He met Vic’s gaze, a denial on the tip of his tongue. Biting it back, he simply shook his head.
“What is it?” Vic sauntered over, his hard, thick, veiny cock swinging with every step. Foster’s gaze was drawn to it. “You aren’t backing out on me, are you?”
Foster swallowed the lump in his throat, fighting the desire to run. When Vic grabbed his belt buckle, he froze.
“I know this is new for you,” Vic said, a hint of a smile on his lips. “Your wife told me this is your first time with a guy.”
Not exactly.
The old memory returned to him again, but it burst and faded when Vic caressed his soft cock through his trousers.
“Here,” Vic said, grinning as he undid the clasp at the waist. “Let me help you with that.”
Vic stared at Foster as he undid the zipper and pulled the panels open wide. When his hand slipped in and caressed Foster’s cock, that’s when it finally stood up and took notice. He grew thicker within a couple of strokes, his balls tightening close to his body.
Well… that’s interesting.
“There he is,” Vic murmured, a syrupy grin sliding his mouth wider.
Foster sucked in a strangled breath, the pleasure intense.
He’d assumed Vic was there for his wife, not him.
Two men for her pleasure because it was always all about Ashley.
That didn’t appear to be the case at all.
When Vic dropped to his knees and sucked the head of Foster’s cock between his lips, that new theory was proven.
Foster’s hands swept out to capture the doorframe before his knees went out under him, the pleasure of the man’s hot mouth driving the air from his lungs.
It clearly wasn’t Vic’s first rodeo. He worked Foster’s cock like a pro. The harder Vic sucked, the more Foster felt anchored. Fully, and wholly present. He reached out, sliding his hand through Vic’s dark hair, twisting the strands tight.
“Oh yeah,” Vic moaned on the next upward stroke, before taking Foster back down his throat.