Tryst

No one here is perfect. And for some reason, that brings me a little comfort.

I notice that Ransom isn’t included in the roundup of guest stars, as Justice called them, and that also reassures me. Maybe Justice had a change of heart? Or maybe Ransom just wasn’t interested in hooking up with someone else? Either way, after a glass of bubbly, I find myself loosening and chatting with the other partygoers.

“Heidi! This must be Tucker,” Ally says as she approaches us, a beaming smile on her face. “About time we meet. I was starting to think our girl made you up.”

To his surprise, she knocks away his offered hand and hugs him like an old friend. I’m actually shocked to see her here, considering Justice makes it a point to keep her away from all of this. Not to keep her in the dark—complacent and oblivious to his dealings. But to protect her. With Ally’s background and growing up the crème de la crème of the Upper East Side, she may very well know some of Justice’s clients. And in order to avoid any awkwardness for all parties involved, she stays a good distance away. It’s not like she doesn’t know what his job entails. She was one of his star students, after all.

“So, Heidi, did you hear who was going to be here tonight?” she asks, turning her attention back to me.

I open my mouth to feign ignorance when I am instantly stu

I think I hear her squeal something to the effect of, “OhmyGodheissofuckinghot” but I can’t be sure. I’m so completely disarmed by him that I can’t hear anything outside of the rapid pounding inside my chest. I don’t know if I should be seriously worried for my health or exhilarated by his mere presence.

He doesn’t see me at first. Or maybe he does and just won’t look at me. I can’t deny that things were left in an awkward space the other night when I ran from his room, embarrassed and aroused. We took things too far, and I’m afraid we’ll never be able to retreat from that.

I know I’m being watched, analyzed, so I take a sip of champagne and turn back to my husband. Ally gives me a quick peck on the cheek and focuses her energy on greeting all the couples, between stealing kisses from Justice when she thinks nobody is watching. And I try my damnedest to act like I’m ok with this. More than ok. I’m downright stoked about the prospect of having to watch my young lover/client fuck someone else while my husband and I get busy doing the same. It just seems like too much. Too much at one time. And I don’t think I’m ready for that.

Reading the panic in my expression, Tucker leans over and whispers in my ear, asking if I’m ok. I tell him yes. Then I tell him the truth.

“Tuck, I don’t know about this. Doesn’t it seem like we’re moving too fast too soon? It’s just . . . maybe we should talk about this before something happens that one of us isn’t prepared for. Something that could seriously affect our marriage and our feelings for each other.”

Translation: I need you to tell me if you want to sleep with a man, so when it happens, I’m not totally caught off guard. And I need to decide if I can be ok with that, and not see you differently.

I mean, could we stay married if Tucker hooked up with a dude? And what if he liked it? Doesn’t that make him gay or bi or whatever? That’s cool with me. I’m just not so sure it should be cool for my marriage.

“Relax, baby. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Ok? Here, try this.” He flags down a server holding a tray of miniature glasses, all smelling of strong liquor.

“What the hell is that?” I cringe, accepting the shot glass. It’s a shimmery, iridescent liquid, unlike any alcohol I’ve ever seen. It smells sweet, but is still potent enough for me to know that it packs a punch.

“Easy. It’s just a little something to help you loosen up. I figured you might need something a bit stronger than champagne. Go ahead—drink up. I promise, you’ll be one hundred percent fine. I am a doctor after all.”

I look down at the mystery pearlescent elixir in my glass then up at his charming smile, and shrug. It’s one shot. What’s the worst it could do? And like he said, he is a doctor. He’d never give me something that would potentially harm me.

I put the glass to my lips and tip it back, letting the cool tang of the liquor slide down my tongue and ease down my throat. It feels warm in my tummy, yet icy on my tongue. And I instantly know that it was a tad bit more than just alcohol I consumed.

Tucker leans in to kiss my temple and whispers, “That’s my girl.”

The more we talk and smile and laugh, the more I drink and the less apprehensive I feel. I’m so relaxed that I’ve almost forgotten that Ransom is here. Well. Almost.

“Tucker. Heidi. Good to see you tonight.” He grins when he approaches, totally catching me off guard.

He shakes Tuck’s hand then turns to me, mischief gleaming in those dark eyes. Then, in slow motion, he leans in and kisses my cheek. But his lips land closer to my ear, giving him the perfect opportunity to rattle me with his words.

“You look fucking delectable tonight. Good enough to eat,” he half groans for only me to hear. Then as he pulls away, his lips run over my cheek, leaving behind a trail of flames that seem to flare and scatter throughout the rest of my body. I think I thank him. I can’t be sure though.

After that, something in the evening air shifts. Not just for us, but for everyone. Voices dip into hushed whispers. Eyelids lower into sultry, hooded gazes. Wine and spirits are still present, but it seems as if the servers and their silver trays have been dismissed. Which is smart; Justice is a stickler when it comes to overindulgence and consensual sex. Oh so easily are those lines blurred, opening the gates for speculation and damaging claims, not to mention valid accusations. It’s just not good for business.

I watch as couples pair up with other couples or singles. They huddle together as if they share some salacious secret that just begs to be told. This is what they came for—to meet others like them. Not only to share their varied interests, but also to explore them . . . enjoy them.

I feel eyes on me . . . hear whispers inquiring whether or not we’re available for play. When the crowd begins to thin out as people make their way downstairs, I cling to Tucker like my life depends on it. Oddly enough, he seems oblivious to the obvious interest we’re garnering.

“Hey,” he coos softly, kissing the crown of my head. “How about we just go down and watch? No pressure. We don’t even have to take our clothes off. We don’t have to do anything at all.”

I look around the room and instantly lock eyes with Ransom, who is surrounded by two couples and even a few singles, all vying for his affections. With his statuesque frame, he easily peers over the horde, gazing at me with perplexity. Maybe he feels it too—this uneasiness. This doubt. Maybe we’re not cut out for kink. Or maybe we’re just not cut out for it with anyone else.

That can’t be true. It won’t be. Not anymore.

I look up at my husband and give him a slight smile, stowing my apprehension for the sake of this beautiful, loving man. I don’t get to worry about Ransom’s feelings. I don’t have the right.

“Sure. Let’s go.”

Chapter Twenty-five

There’s a sort of out of body sensation that one experiences when they step out of their comfort zone and do the unthinkable. It’s as if you take on another life, switching from existing as the executor to the bystander, watching, anticipating, but not really feeling. Your body feels pleasure, but mentally, you check out. If you don’t, reality will creep in, shattering the illusion and allowing insecurity to slither its way into you like a black oil serpent. And once it settles inside you, purging its disease, you realize that you weren’t just witnessing this depravity. You were living it.