The Extravagant After Dark Collection

1. Lily

LILY

Lily

Some things you just knew at first blush.

Whether you were attracted to that handsome guy across the crowded bar. Whether that hot tip on a story would turn into a juicy exposé.

Whether you were rocking a fabulous dress.

That kind of certainty didn’t make you cocky. It made you aware. It made you instinctive. I believed in instincts.

For the record, I was marrying the guy I met in the bar, my last story won me an award, and this dress made me want to write a thank-you note to the makers of satin.

This was the dress.

The white V-neck sheath gown hugged my hips, boosted my breasts, and showcased just the right amount of shoulders for my cascade of blond hair.

I checked my right side, my left side, my backside. “And the verdict?”

The question was perfunctory, but still, I wanted to know if Kate saw what I saw.

“That’s the winner,” declared my maid of honor.

I smoothed my hands over the shiny fabric. “Yes. I’m down with this dress one hundred percent.”

“Someone knows what she likes.” Kate crossed one leg over the other from her spot on the plush pink chair in the dressing room.

“Are you surprised I agreed so quickly? Or surprised I have a strong opinion?”

“I shouldn’t be since you’re the queen of knowing your own mind.

I’m surprised only because being a bride does something to a woman’s head.

Makes you think crazy thoughts, consider things you’ve never considered before, make decisions that surprise besties.

So, I suppose I figured you’d find a reason to hate the perfect dress. ”

“Ha. No dress-hating from me.” I slid my hands over my thighs. “I’m as sure about this dress as I am about marrying Finn.”

Kate tightened her brunette ponytail. “Then that’s as sure as anyone can be about literally anything. Are you still disgustingly happy and having hot, dirty times every night and thoughtful, intelligent conversations every single day?”

A knowing grin—no, an utterly delighted grin—spread over my face.

Kate knew me so well. Knew my fiancé stimulated me with his brain and, well, his other parts.

And did so on the reg.

Yes, I was a lucky girl. Finn Nichols was handsome as sin, with dark hair, midnight-blue eyes, and a body I couldn’t get enough of.

But on top of that, he had a huge heart and an insane devotion to my libido.

“It’s pretty much like clockwork,” I said.

“In fact, I think we had a request to set the atomic clock by our sex life.”

She glowered. “And I hate you.”

I arched a knowing brow. “You shouldn’t hate me when my fiancé has a best man who’s smoking hot and who thinks you’re a babe.”

“Jake?” She looked surprised.

I nodded. “Yes. Jake. Dark hair, dark eyes, tall as a tree. Jake, Finn’s longtime best friend, former roomie, now works in the Vegas branch of the law practice Finn’s cousin started?”

“Yes, yes. I know they’re both entertainment lawyers. I just didn’t know you thought Jake was hot.”

“Empirically,” I emphasized. “He’s empirically hot, like a Hemsworth or that guy who plays Lucifer. And Jake thinks you’re a babe—I overheard him and Finn talking one night about the wedding, and Jake made some comment about the maid of honor being luscious . Anyway, Jake is single, ergo . . .”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re such a matchmaker. But I’ve just never thought of him that way.”

But I knew they were right for each other. Just like I knew this dress was divine. “You should think of him that way. Then maybe you won’t hate me for my love life,” I said, sticking out my tongue.

“Rub it in, girl. Rub the salt in the wound even harder.”

“But wait. Don’t you have a regular lover?” I asked, teasing her. “What’s his name? Jack the Magic Man?”

“Vibrators don’t count.” Kate swatted my elbow with her purse.

I pointed to the back of my dress. “Even if you name them? I would think a BOB with a name would count a lot.”

She stood, worked my zipper down. “Toys definitely don’t count. But in my vibrator’s defense, since I don’t think one should trash talk BOBs that do the job, this one is hitting the G-spot every single time.”

“Tell me what that feels like,” I said, playing up the intrigue in my voice.

Kate tilted a brow. “You want me to tell you?”

“You’ve always been good at describing Os.”

With a thoughtful frown, she gazed at the ceiling for a moment before answering. “It feels like a heavenly choir of dirty angels conducting a filthy orchestra in your body.”

I grinned as I shimmied out of my dress, sighing contentedly. “Those are the best kind, aren’t they?”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re the worst. You were almost making me feel sorry for you, asking me to tell you what it was like as if you’d never had one. But you’re just toying with me.”

“I couldn’t resist.” I laughed. “I love how serious you get about finding just the right description. Your brow furrows and everything. It’s adorable.”

“And since you’re having nightly bang fests and getting your own G-spot Os, now I’m going to have to find a way to taunt you with something.”

“Nightly and every morning , ” I corrected as I handed her the dress.

“Evil. You’re pure evil.”

I glanced around the store. The shopkeeper was working in the front, helping another patron. “Also, how are you going to taunt me?” I asked, since the cat in me was downright curious.

Kate tapped her chin. “Hmm. Thinking . . . thinking . . . wait! I’ve got it.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Do you realize that the deepest, most powerful G-spot Os come from one thing in particular?”

“And what is this one thing, Great Scientist of Os?”

“Just a little thing you’ve always wanted,” she said airily.

“Tell me!” Now my curiosity was piqued sky-high.

She lifted a brow. Raised her chin. Put on her best I’ve got something you’re going to want tone. “A ménage. You know, the kind with . . .” She let her voice trail off, and I filled in the dots. The kind with two men servicing me at the same time.

A frisson of pleasure rushed down my chest, pulsing between my legs at the mere thought.

The daring, dangerous thought.

I swallowed, almost like I’d been caught doing something naughty. Wanting something I haven’t had. Wanting my deepest, most private fantasy.

“How do you know I want that?” I asked.

She stared sharply at me. “You confessed a few years ago over two truths and a lie that a threesome with two guys was your ultimate fantasy.”

“You remember that?”

She rolled her hazel eyes. “As if I’d forget.”

“That was just a drinking game.”

She arched a brow. “Ah, Lily, my sweet Lily, you only look innocent. You’ve wanted to be the filling in a man sandwich for years.”

A flush crept across my cheeks. A tingle raced down my spine as I imagined my favorite videos, my regular go-tos.

Kate wasn’t wrong, but those fantasies, those wild, dirty desires had been tabled.

And with good reason—you didn’t just order up a side dish of a second hot guy to go along with the smart, devoted, and sexy-as-sin guy you were marrying in a few months.

“But I’m engaged now,” I said, pointing out the obvious.

Kate folded the dress once more then winked at me. “This dress is on me if Finn doesn’t say yes when you ask him for one.”

I gasped. Literally gasped. Because how the hell could I ask for such a thing? “I’m not asking him for one.”

“What’s the worst he can say? No?”

I pulled on my jeans and grabbed my blouse. “Um, how about ‘the wedding is off?’”

She waved her hand in the air, like a celebutante dismissing a passé pair of yoga pants. “You never know unless you try.”

“But I don’t want to take that chance.”

As I buttoned my blouse, I tried to imagine my fiancé’s response. Sure, Finn and I role-played. True, we were adventuresome, and yes, we engaged in public quickies now and again.

Okay, more than now and again. A lot.

We did not have a boring love life whatsoever.

But one with that particular kind of kink? It was hard to picture because Finn was so completely focused on me. That type of fantasy role-play— a third party —had never entered our nightly repertoire.

Kate drew a deep breath, moved closer, and whispered, “But do you truly think he’d say no?”

“It doesn’t matter because it won’t happen.”

Kate dropped her voice, taunting me. “But you’re thinking about it.”

That was what was so crazy.

I thought about it all afternoon at work.

I imagined it as I wrote an outline for my next story.

I pictured it as I scheduled an interview with a baseball manager who had a fantastic roster of talent.

What would it be like with two men focused on me, and only me? Would it be as wild and wicked as it was in my imagination?

And then as I drove home, I squirmed at every red light.

But the closer I came to my house, the more I had to banish those thoughts.

They were far too risky for my life.

And my life was as wonderful as I could ask for.

I didn’t want to do a thing to upend my happiness with the man I was marrying. That’s what mattered most, right?

Not my secret fantasies.