Dreaming of Another (A Naughty Wife Origin Story) by Kenny Wright

Author:Kenny Wright [Wright, Kenny]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: KW Publishing
Published: 2015-03-23T20:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9:

The List

Later that night, Chrissy demonstrated exactly what she meant. Since this was a destination wedding, we were all invited out to a “rehearsal dinner” gathering at one of the clubs in town. Mostly, it was an excuse to go out and party—something Chrissy and I hadn’t done in forever.

Chrissy went all out for the evening. I couldn’t take my eyes off her ass, squeezed into a pair of skin-tight white pants, and an awesome, black cowl-necked tank top that I’d never seen before.

“You look great,” I said, running my hand up under the tank top to feel the smooth skin of her lower back.

“I think I should have kept the contacts in.”

Since we were going to be out so late, she’d wavered on whether to switch to glasses or not. I encouraged her to take out her contacts and put on her stylish, dark-framed specs. “I think the glasses make you look sexy.”

It wasn’t a lie—not even a white one. Something about her with her hair pulled back and those glasses turned me on.

“Uh huh. You say that until we see how glammed up the bridal party is.”

Fretting about her choice of corrective eyewear was easier than thinking about the real source of anxiety for the evening: Marc would be there. We’d dodged an encounter earlier in the day, by the pool, but he’d be there tonight for sure.

“You ready?” Chrissy asked.

“Yeah. You?”

Her eyes looked huge. “I’m nervous.”

“Me too. But remember, only you and I know about the fantasy. Just go with the flow.”

“And if the flow leads me back to Marc’s room?”

My mouth dried up. I took a measured breath. “Just let me know ahead of time.”

Chrissy nodded. “Come on, let’s party.”

Cabana House was more of a bar-turned-club than a club in the traditional sense. Walking in, I could almost imagine how it must look during the day—tables set out where the dance floors were, adorned with candles and tented drink menus, servers taking orders, tourists putting them in. By eleven, though, the tables were gone, the lights turned low, and a DJ spun house music through the transformed space.

It felt like we were stepping into another world. Neither of us had been to a club in a long time, and certainly not starting past ten at night. I thought I’d be tired, but the prospect of the night, coupled with the wall of sound we stepped through, buoyed me.

We searched the floor for our wedding party, finding them in a small, roped off area. I recognized Brigitte right away, wearing the kind of dress I didn’t even bother fantasizing that Chrissy would wear. It was short, lacy, and fit her like a glove.

Marc stood next to her, looking every much her match. Where Brigitte was pale, he was dark. Where Brigitte was slim, Marc was toned. I thought of how good the two of them must look having sex—I couldn’t help it. They were like the epitome of masculinity and femininity.

Chrissy pressed up next to me. “Yeah, definitely should have stuck with contacts.

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