*****

I returned after almost an hour to find Helena in our bed, in her white terry-cloth robe, a towel wrapped around her head, painting her toes. She greeted me with a smile as I entered the room, then blew air along the wet varnish that decorated her nails.

“I do hope you’re not in a bad mood, now,” she said evenly, perhaps misreading the mild scowl on my face.

“I’m not,” I told her, feeling lighter as I was finally able to shrug off the wretched suit jacket and shirt I’d been sweating in all day. Nowhere in the state’s propaganda brochures does it ever quite prepare you for the extreme Texas heat.

“Because if you’re unhappy with our arrangement, I want you to tell me before it becomes an issue, not after.”

“Darling,” I looked over to smile at her. I received a warm look in response as her eyes moved over my now naked torso. “I promise you I’m not unhappy.”

“Remember what we said: So long as it’s discreet, doesn’t cause the other to make any sacrifice, and we don’t fall in love with anyone else’,” she reminded me.

“I’m well aware of the terms of our marriage,” I smiled, kicking off my shoes and socks, then slipping off my suit pants, “and I’m fine. It’s a long way away from those crazy days in New York and LA,” I paced over to the bed and lay down next to her, “but you’re so beautiful it’s hard not to wish I was the one fucking you, instead of him.”

She leaned over to peck me on the lips. “Thank you, darling. I love you.”

“Love you too,” I said, looking for the TV remote. “And thanks for confining yourselves to the guest room.

“It seemed the polite thing to do.”

I was attracted by a movement as she slipped the towel off her head. Her long blonde hair fell in wet strands across her face until she suddenly whipped them back as she saw me looking at her. For someone who had made so much money as the face of cosmetic companies, she needed virtually no makeup to look incredible.

“So, who was he this time?” I grinned, edging in closer as she scooted down to me. “A local Craiglist guy or a long-distance Tinder hookup?”

“Do you really want to know?

“Not really.”

“Then don’t ask,” she whispered, moving in to kiss me again. She planted a long, soft kiss on my lips, then quickly pulled back. “I should tell you I’m going to be gone for the weekend, though. I fly out tomorrow morning.”

“With him?”

“I thought you said you didn’t want to know?”

I see,” I told her. I tried but I couldn’t keep the disappointment out of my voice. I didn’t have a problem with our marriage. It felt perfectly healthy to stay honest and upfront with each other and acknowledge that we needed to sleep with other people from time to time. We always protected each other’s emotions and we were in love.

Our relationship was born out of the wild and decadent sex, drug, and million-dollar-bill fueled rock and roll world of fashion and photography. Everyone fucked everyone else. On more than one occasion it felt as though everyone was, in fact, fucking everyone else in the same room. The only way we’d been able to make our marriage last nearly fifteen years was by rising above petty sexual jealousy. I loved her and she loved me. That was the most important thing.

“Caleb, tell me the truth,” she put on her domineering voice. It normally turned me on but I sensed she was being a little too serious for that, this time.

“I swear, I’m okay,” I reassured her. “I just had a hot, grimy, and tiresome day and I kinda needed you. There’s no way you could have known, though.”

“I’m here now,” she smiled, twisting her fingers through the hairs on my chest.

“Aren’t you sated? Haven’t you ever had enough?”

“I always try and make sure I have energy for you.”

I kissed her softly on the lips. “And I appreciate that. However, I think you might appreciate me taking a shower first.”

Helena laughed as I stood up and went over to our bathroom. Inside I turned on the jets inside the vast, marble shower and stood as the room filled with steam. I stepped under the hot water as it pulsed down from above, and was assaulted from the sides by the auxiliary jets in the walls. The entire master bath must have been bigger than my first studio apartment in Brooklyn which, coincidently, doubled as my actual studio.

I had a brief flashback to some of those early photoshoots there, back around the turn of the century. Me the struggling artist. Some young, waif-like girl the desperate model. Both of us starving, for both food and fame. There was just no way we could make it through a sexy, artistic photoshoot without fucking. And, as my fame and notoriety grew, the models became less starving and desperate but the sex came even easier. Those early sessions, though, when everything was so raw and real, they are still the ones that get my juices flowing.

My mind wandered to a shoot with a dark, slender young thing who went on to make millions and marry into billions. Back then, though, we recognized the need in each other as the whole industry seemed to be against us, she lay before me nude and curled her delicate hand around my stiffening cock. Back in the shower, I felt the blood rushing to my dick before a small, delicate hand appeared and wrapped itself around my stiffening cock.

“I can’t leave you to deal with this by yourself,” Helena’s voice came from behind me, “I feel like that would count as forcing you to make a sacrifice.”

She turned me around and dropped to her knees, in front of me.

“Like I said,” I gasped as her touch sent shivers through me, “I really have no problem with our current agreement.”