With His Permission (Sexy Quick Read Collection #6)

Chapter 1

The garage door grinds open, vibrating the wall that separates my home office from our garage. I quickly type out a message to my best friend, Jessica, on the app we use to chat during the workday.

Miri

Shit, gotta go. Hubby is home and it’s my night to cook dinner.

She gives my message a laughing emoji.

Jessica

See you on Saturday. Tell him takeout is on the way!

Ooh, she’s brilliant. I’m totally going to do that. I give her a thumbs-up and close the program.

Jessica and I have been texting back and forth for hours today while we pretended to work.

We were discussing a trip we’re taking to the Oregon coast this weekend, a reunion of sorts, with a group of our closest friends from high school and their spouses.

Jessica is leaving tomorrow to spend a couple of extra days there with her husband, Lucas, before our Saturday gathering.

I quickly open a spreadsheet before my husband, Joey, finds out it’s been social hour all day.

I want to maintain the illusion that I’ve been diligently working while he slaved away, crunching numbers for “the man.” Tipping back in my chair to peek out the door of the office, I spy him coming down the hall towards me and exchange a smile with him.

Desire ripples through me at the sight of him in his suit and his tousled brown hair.

It looks like he was running his fingers through it recently, and it gives him a rakish appearance. Dang, I married a sexy man.

He comes in, sets his leather work bag down, and kisses my forehead. “Hey, baby.”

“Hi, my love. How was work?” I appreciate the forehead kiss, but what I really want is a panty-melting kiss with lots of tongue.

My job affords me a ton more freedom than his does, so I try to not bug him on instant messenger all day.

He gets focused and in the zone, so I save up any news for when he gets home.

He’s a certified public accountant with one of the biggest CPA firms in our town, mainly working with clients in the wine industry.

Between the two of us, he’s the one bringing home the bacon.

I have a fabulous job, but I don’t make a ton of money.

I got lucky by being Jessica’s best friend.

As soon as I saw her sitting all alone in the school cafeteria in seventh grade and reading my favorite book, I introduced myself and we’ve been besties ever since.

Her family had recently moved to town, and she’s an introvert who never would have approached me.

She was always daydreaming and had her head in the clouds back then, and she turned that into a creative writing career.

One of Jessica’s smutty reverse harem vampire stories exploded four years ago, and after a year of trying to juggle everything herself as an indie author, she finally begged me to work for her full time as her personal assistant.

I’ve been doing that for about three years now, and it brought out hidden marketing talents in me.

She only has to worry about writing, and I take care of most everything else for her.

She pays me enough to make me happy but also not feel bad if I goof off or have an unproductive day.

She claims I pay for myself in increased sales, so she doesn’t care when I work as long as I keep up with what needs done.

I basically have my dream job at 33; I don’t clock in, I can do whatever I want, and I listen to music all day.

Life is good… or it would be if I were getting more sex.

Now that I have a flexible job, at some point Joey and I plan on trying for a baby.

I’ll be the primary caregiver while he’s at work.

We keep putting it off, though, so I’m not sure it will actually happen.

The older we get, the more we appreciate being child-free, especially when we want to take spontaneous trips.

But even the trips have slowed down in recent years.

He takes his time before answering how his day went and removes his suit jacket.

When he unbuttons his shirt, my pussy perks up.

It’s been over a week since we’ve had sex, which isn’t that uncommon anymore.

Normally when I’m horny, I take care of myself with my extensive collection of sex toys, but Jessica distracted me today with chatting about high school and theorizing how different our friends will be when we see them this weekend.

Joey sighs and rolls his head as if he’s trying to loosen his neck muscles. “Work was… work. But I’m glad to be home, and you’re looking cute today.” He grins at me and my pussy tries to remind me again that she hasn’t been plowed recently.

I wonder what my chances of getting some sex are tonight?

It’s Wednesday, and despite the jokes about hump day, there usually isn’t any humping in my household on Wednesdays unless it’s me going to town with my vibrator.

I agree with him, though; I’m feeling quite cute in my favorite cotton pajama pants with penguins on them and a white lace corset-style top that molds to my breasts and shows my cleavage to its full advantage.

Yeah, I put this on at lunchtime on purpose, hoping to lure him into bed tonight.

Since he didn’t walk in and immediately bend me over the desk, my chances seem low.

My husband isn’t a man of many words, so I’m not surprised that he doesn’t elaborate on his workday.

I always make an effort to show interest in his job, but from what I can tell, it’s reeeaaaalllly boring.

He never shares funny stories about the office, and I sometimes wonder what happened to the man I married.

He was the goofy class clown, and now he’s the dependable, married for 14 years, barely having sex, accountant.

He doesn’t take his shirt off once it’s unbuttoned, and disappointment runs through me.

He gets up early three times a week to go to the gym before work, and I was hoping for an eyeful of his sexy man pecs.

If I’m not getting a hard boning tonight, I could at least enjoy some eye candy.

I haven’t given up hope yet though. I might need to get some tasty food in his belly and then jump him after dinner when he’s relaxed.

Almost as if he read my mind, he says, “So what’s for dinner?”

Oh shit, right... dinner. Damn Jessica and her distractions.

“Oh, I thought we should do teriyaki delivery since we need to pack for the trip tomorrow night. No need to mess up the kitchen.” Knowing my excuse is flimsy, I give him my cutest smile and bat my eyelashes at him.

He laughs. “Okay, and I’m sure you’ve already ordered it… right?”

I vigorously nod my head and widen my green eyes innocently. “Oh, yes. Why don’t you change into something comfortable and it’ll be here before you know it.”

He goes to leave but pauses in the doorway and glances back at me. “Miri, bring that top you’re wearing on the trip this weekend. I have an idea.”

Ooh, what’s this? I’m instantly wet and squirm in my chair once he’s gone.

I’d like to think his idea is me wearing it while he fucks me, but I have a sneaking suspicion he’s talking about something else.

Staring at the empty doorway for a few moments, I contemplate what he might ask me to do this weekend.

It’s a cruel joke that women sexually peak in their 30s.

By this age, we’ve got busy lives, and possibly kids, and a lot more responsibilities.

It’s not as easy to stay up all night having wild sex when you’re a responsible adult who can’t blow off work the next day.

That’s why I’m looking forward to the trip this weekend.

Joey and I always have trip sex. I told him once it was a hidden clause in our marriage vows, and he chuckled and agreed.

So I WILL get some vacation sex, goddammit!

I order dinner online and think about what he said.

His interest in my top intrigues me because we’ve been talking the last couple of months about broadening our sexual horizons to spice things up.

We had a frank discussion about our lack of sex, and he admitted that work is stressful and since he gets up early for the gym some days, he isn’t in the mood that often during the work week.

He assured me he still thought I was hot and he wanted to have sex with me.

And while I intellectually understood that, I still missed the 4-5 times-per-week sex we were having in our 20s.

I mean shit, right now I’d settle for once per week and consider myself lucky.

Joey’s idea of spicing up our love life was not anything I expected, and he floored me with the suggestion that maybe I would like to be a hotwife and he would allow it as a way for me to satisfy my urges.

I learned what a hotwife was from Jessica because she and her husband have an arrangement like that, where he chooses guys for her from a listing on an app and then she has one-night stands with them.

I don’t know how often they do it, but she said it’s pretty fabulous.

At first I thought Joey was afraid I was going to divorce him if I didn’t get more sex, and I tried to tell him I was perfectly happy with my toys, but he admitted that after I told him what Jessica and her husband were doing, he did online research and found the idea hot.

And it’s just like my husband to frame something as helping me out when it’s really his dirty fantasy that I fuck a bunch of men.

One thing we both agreed on was that we wouldn’t rush into something like that without discussing boundaries and expectations.

We’ve taken this time to talk things out, and I told him recently that if the right opportunity presents itself, I’d like to give it a go.

Of course, once I agreed to that, I’ve been horny as all hell for the last two weeks and masturbating practically daily.

So whatever plan he has for me and this tight lace shirt this weekend, I’m down for it.