Arranged(31)

Our booth fell silent. Everyone’s attention was grabbed.

I barely noticed the other men. My husband was the stand-out of the group.

He spotted me and grinned.

My heart took a sharp little jump in my chest.

My reactions to him were unexpected and unwanted.

I couldn’t explain how he made me feel. I’d never experienced anything like it. Excited. Agitated. Electrified. Conflicted. Stimulated. Distressed.

I hadn’t been having a great time, but I’d had enough to drink that I was buzzed and feeling relaxed in spite of the awkward company.

Suddenly I was a tight ball of confused tension.

I hadn’t expected to see him. I wasn’t sure how to react.

I had so many questions every time I saw him. Questions I knew I couldn’t ask.

Had he been planning this all along? Why did he look like he was happy to see me? How did he make it so convincing? Was he maybe a little bit happy to see me?

The men approached the booth, and I rose for some awkward re-introductions.

I knew I’d met his friends before, but they hadn’t made an impression. I’d been too nervous on my wedding day to notice much beyond my own acute misgivings.

There was an unmistakable camaraderie between the men and the gathering as a whole.

There were lots of inside jokes being passed right over my head.

There was a sense of fond affection when the group of them were all together.

Seeing him with his friends stung a little.

He wasn’t cold with them. He wasn’t distant. He wasn’t mean. He wasn’t untouchable.

It was a dangerous thing for me to witness.





CHAPTER





THIRTEEN





We all sat down, wives next to their husbands, the single girls on the end.

There was plenty of room, so I sat gingerly about six inches away from Calder.

“Closer,” he prompted in voice that managed to be both soft and hard.

It only took one word from him, one look, for my body to change. Go from solid to liquid. Chilled to heated.

I met his eyes as I obeyed.

He put his arm around me, pulling me close.

“How much have you had to drink?” he asked quietly.

I bit my lip and his eyes followed the motion. “I don’t know,” I said honestly, “I’ve lost count. More than my two drink limit.”

“How do you feel? Not going to be sick, I hope?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Good.” He smiled. It was a handsome hot smile, and I couldn’t tell who it was really for but it made my blood pound through my body a little faster. He leaned closer. “I was in the middle of a meeting when I saw that picture you posted,” he murmured into my ear. “I turned hard as a rock. Do you know how awkward that was for me?”

I shook my head.

“And then later,” he continued silkily, “when I was alone, I jacked off to that image. Is that what you wanted?”

He leaned back to meet my gaze.

I shook my head. I couldn’t tear my eyes off him.

Why did that make me wild? The idea of him pleasuring himself to a picture of me got to me in all kinds of ways.

He thought about me when he wasn’t with me. Before that picture I’d been so sure I was completely forgettable to him. Less than an afterthought. Easier to wipe from his mind than the damp circle left by his morning coffee.

“Do you know how many other men must have seen that picture before it was taken down, and did the exact same fucking thing?” His tone was different suddenly. Switched from seductive to mean. Holy mood swing.

It dawned on me then that this was another dressing down. He’d just taken his time getting there.

“I didn’t think it showed that much,” I spoke as quietly as I could. I didn’t want anyone we were with to realize that my husband was chewing me out. My pride had taken enough of a beating with this crowd. “I covered everything.”

“Don’t do it again,” he warned.

“Okay,” I said. A plaintive note slipped into my voice as I added, “We already went over this, you know.”

He leaned forward, suddenly animated. “My wife posted a nude selfie online for the world to see. For every creep in the world to jerk off to. Excuse me if I feel the need to go over it twice.”

“It’s been erased,” I pointed out.

He gave me a pointed look. “I saved it the second I saw it, and so did countless other people.”

We stared at each other for a long, strange moment. Why did the fact that he’d saved a picture of me hit me straight in the gut? It didn’t mean anything. He was probably just saying it to prove a point. “Did you really?” I asked, my voice little more than a whisper.

He cleared his throat. “Forget it. Just use a little sense next time.”

“Got it,” I replied.

He leaned close.

My eyes were on his lips. They were so plump. I reached a fingertip up to touch them. And so soft.

He moved closer. “Let’s go dance.” It wasn’t a request.

I nodded and he stood, holding out his hand. I took it.

He told the group that he was taking me dancing. We received several toasts into the air in response.

He led me out of the booth, across the private room, and through a doorway that led to a much more crowded club.