A Taste For Teasing: A Hotwife Novel by Arnica Butler

Author:Arnica Butler [Butler, Arnica]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Bleu was a really, really, really, really expensive restaurant. Notoriously so, in fact. I fully expected to have to drop half a grand, if not more, on dinner, which I have to say was not pleasing to me in the least.

But I didn’t want to have to tell Don I couldn’t afford to eat there.

Also, I was secretly hoping he would magnanimously offer to pay the bill, just to show how much money he had.

The only thing I hoped to avoid was somehow ending up insisting on paying the bill myself and ending up dropping two grand that night.

I confided all this to Monica over our cocktails at a bar we’d never heard of or been to, down the street from Bleu, where very young people were serving us drinks with the same frown that Starbuck’s baristas used.

Monica laughed, and then she set her drink down. Her face became very sultry and very serious. She ran a finger along the rim of her martini glass and sucked on a bit of the vodka.

Her face was already flushed from the half martini. She closed her lips around her finger.

“I guarantee you,” she purred. “That Don will end up paying for dinner.”

A very sexual sensation lurched around inside of me. After all, what did it all mean? Who could tell? But my wife meant something by it, and that something made me wild with lust.

I took a sip of my martini and Monica smiled. She seemed very pleased with herself.

The alcohol I had consumed loosened my lips a little. “Oh, really,” I said. “I’m beginning to suspect there’s more to you and this Don character than meets the eye.”

Monica smiled. She brought her martini glass to her mouth and cocked her head before taking a sip.

“Whatever do you mean?” she asked me. She batted her eyelashes for extra effect.

I wondered if Monica knew she was pushing my buttons. How she knew it, how she had figured out to do it in such a way that I was left liquefied on the inside.

“Oh, nothing,” I said. “You just seem very dressed up for someone who, quote, doesn’t really have a thing for Don.”

Monica smiled over the lip of her martini glass.

And said nothing.

“We better go,” I said.

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