A Lockdown Affair by Max Sebastian

Author:Max Sebastian [Sebastian, Max]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: KW Publishing
Published: 2020-07-17T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

They reached the bedroom, and Marcie paused by the doorway. Then, when Cam was inside, she closed the door quietly but, somehow, very deliberately.

Cam’s heart was beating hard.

It seemed possible to cut the tension in the air with a knife, it was so thick. What was she up to?

Cam turned to see Marcie still just standing there with her back to the closed door, waiting for him to face her—and the look on her face was serious, sharp, and ravenous. There were flames in her eyes, but he couldn’t quite tell if she was angry, or horny like nothing on this Earth.

He was about to ask whether she was okay.

She said, ‘Do you still love me?’

He raised his eyebrows, caught his breath. ‘Of course,’ he said, and could see her big, blue eyes flickering as they examined his own hazel ones, assessing him for any sign of a lie. ‘You know I do.’

She stepped toward him so that she was just inches away—and immediately, he could tell something was up. She looked proud, strong, slightly defensive. This wasn’t just Marcie being horny because of their recent expansion into FaceTime sex.

What was going on?

His hard cock throbbed, his heart palpitated. Marcie continued to gaze into his eyes, scoping him out. He could smell her perfume—had she re-applied it?

He couldn’t help but glance down, taking in that superlative view of her cleavage. Had she managed to unfasten another couple of buttons on her shirt while he hadn’t been looking? Jesus, he could see her bra—black lace. It was one of the ones from her lingerie drawer in the flat in London. Something she would never ordinarily wear for him.

His eyes returned to hers after a fraction of a second, but it was long enough for her to see him look, and to be amused that he’d had to look.

‘So you’ve been writing about your trip to that garden center, huh?’ she asked him, reminding him about what he’d told her during the previous night’s family FaceTime call.

‘Uh… yeah, yeah…’

‘After your nice visit on Monday?’

One of her eyebrows rose, inquisitive—or perhaps, more likely, teasingly. She was making fun of his cover story.

She knew. She knew.

‘I… uh…’ he fumbled, attempting to engage brain to mouth.

‘No secrets, right?’ she said, knowingly.

Then she was holding up something small, something black. A scrap of black material.

Her panties.

The ones he’d stolen from the London apartment.

‘You noticed they were missing?’ he said, stunned, and suddenly very afraid that she was furious with him, that she would hate him for invading her privacy.

She gave him a curt nod. ‘I was sorting out our laundry before I left London. And it turned out I was missing one pair of panties.’

She was hiding her emotions. He couldn’t tell how she really felt about all this. About his deception. If she was angry, though, she was controlling it well, keeping her cool.

Teasing him.

‘And then I came home, and here they were, in the pocket of the jeans you were wearing on Monday,’ she said.

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