I awoke the next morning, tangled in the sheets and Quinn’s arms. I tried to move, thinking I could get out of bed without waking him, but he tightened his arms around me and pulled me close.

“I’m already up,” he whispered in my ear before he nibbled on it, pressing his erection into my back to let me know his words had a double meaning. He slid his hands under my tank top, cupping each of my breasts. He ran his fingers lightly over my nipples, and they hardened under his touch before he tugged gently. I moaned and rolled over to face him, taking his face in both my hands and kissing him like it was the last thing I’d ever do. I was determined to fuck the idea of another threesome out of him—remind him why we were enough, just the two of us. I ran a hand down his stomach toward his boxer shorts, but he grabbed my hand and stopped me.

“Not yet baby.” He kissed me lightly and pulled my tank top over my head, leaving me in just my panties. “Lay back,” he commanded. Quinn rarely told me what to do in bed, but it was hot as fuck when he did.

“Put your hands above your head,” he said. I complied, stretching my body out along the bed. “Now, don’t move.”

Quinn hovered above me, kissing me lightly on the lips, my cheek, my neck, and down my collarbone, but when he reached the top of my breasts, I squirmed. He pulled back.

“I said don’t move.” He started again, working his way from my lips, down to my nipples. When he sucked one into his mouth, I squirmed again, arching my back off the bed and moaning. He pulled back again. “I’m gonna start over every time you move,” he said, and when I made a pouty face, he added, “I’ve got all day.”

He started again, and this time I held perfectly still. My breathing quickened, and my heart started to race as he moved farther down my body. By the time he reached the top of my panties, I thought I was going to explode, the wetness between my legs growing with every kiss.

Quinn looked up at me, his eyes meeting mine as he continued his descent, and when he nibbled my most sensitive spot, it took every ounce of control I had to hold still. The combination of my panties and Quinn’s mouth created a delicious friction that drove me wild. He never took his eyes off mine as he pulled down my panties.

Then he resumed his slow torture, kissing from the inside of my knee up my inner thigh, skipping over the place that was screaming for his touch, and starting the same pattern on my other leg. When he reached my core, he licked lightly, and I lost it. My head rolled back, and I groaned. I reached down and ran a hand through his hair.

“Put your hands above your head or I’ll stop,” he said, slightly lifting his head.

“Please don’t stop,” I breathed, putting my hands back where he demanded. Then his mouth was on me again, his tongue slowly circling my clit. When his tongue dipped inside me, I cried out, “Oh my God, Quinn.”

“I love how wet you get for me.” His words were a warm tickle against my sensitive skin. It was seriously so hot when he talked dirty to me. I was ready. I needed him inside me so bad it almost hurt.

“Quinn, please,” I whispered.

“Please what, Chloe?”

“Please fuck me.”

“Not yet. I’m gonna make you come with my mouth first.” He flicked his tongue over my clit, and my whole body shuddered. “You like that?”

“Oh my God, yes,” I moaned. “Don’t ever stop.” He did it over and over again, my body climbing higher with each flick of his tongue. When he wrapped his lips around my clit and sucked, I lost it. I screamed his name as my orgasm washed over me, my back arching off the bed as he continued sucking, drawing my pleasure out until I collapsed on the sheets.

He kissed his way back up my stomach, over my breasts, leaving a trail of kisses along my collarbone and neck before gently kissing my lips again.

“Good morning.” He smiled.

“That was one hell of a good morning,” I said, still breathless.

“I’m just getting started.” I screamed as he wrapped his arms around me and rolled over, so I was on top of him, the hard length of his cock resting against the crack of my ass.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, his hands roaming over my body. Without warning, he lifted my hips and shifted so he was at my entrance. I tried to shift, move myself down, but he held me firmly in place, denying me the fullness I craved. He moved in an inch, then back out again. It was pure torture.

“Quinn,” I begged. He ignored me and continued to tease me with just the tip of his cock. “Quinn, please.” I tried and failed to get out of the death grip he had on my hips. He stopped moving altogether, holding completely still, and smiled up at me like he had won some sort of contest. Then he slid into me.

“Oh fuck yes,” I cried out as he pulled out again. He released his grip on my hips, and I moaned as I sank back down on his cock, burying him inside me. He groaned when I did it again.

“You feel so good,” he said, moving his hands from my hips to cup my breasts and rub my nipples with his thumbs. My head rolled back, and I closed my eyes.

“Oh my God, babe, that feels so good,” I breathed. I shifted and picked up the pace, my breasts bouncing up and down in his hands.

He reached between our bodies and pressed his thumb against my clit. My body tensed involuntarily at the contact, as pleasure started to build in my core. I closed my eyes and let my orgasm wash over me. Quinn grabbed my hips again and continued thrusting, moaning my name as he followed me over the edge. When he finally stopped moving, I collapsed on his chest. I could feel his heart beating rapidly against mine. I rolled off him, my body sinking into our mattress.

When my breathing had returned to normal, I sat up on my elbows and looked at him, his brown hair getting long, sticking out every which way. I smiled and ran my hand through it, making it stick up even more. He opened one eye and looked at me.

“That was fucking amazing,” I said.

“I know.” He smirked. I hit him in the stomach with a pillow.

“What if I was faking it?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

“You weren’t; you’re not that good of an actress,” he said.

“You’re right. I forgot I was married to a sex god.” My voice dripped with sarcasm as I got out of bed.

“Oooh, yeah, that’s a good way to describe me.” He stretched out and put his arms behind his head, his wide shoulders and muscular biceps flexing. He laid there, smiling, his naked body on full display. “Quinn, the god of sex, I like it.”

“Of course you do.” I laughed and rolled my eyes. “I’m getting in the shower. Try not to woo any unsuspecting women into our bed with your incredible sex powers while I’m gone.” I could hear him laughing as I shut the door to the bathroom and turned on the water.

---

Quinn and I spent the day together, running errands, perusing local farmer’s markets, and just hanging out. We talked about everything we’d missed all week.

With football season starting in three weeks, Quinn’s Saturdays would soon be filled with pre-game analysis, game coverage, and post-game interviews. I was lucky if I saw him at all during the season; he often left before I was awake, and when the games started late, he wasn’t home until well after I’d already gone to bed. I hated it when I didn’t get to see him for days on end, but he loved his job, and college football was his favorite.

The August weather was warm and sunny as we strolled along the river, hand in hand.

“Are you excited for football season?” I asked, well aware I might be opening the door for a monologue about football.

“Yeah, it’s going to be a good year...” He carried on excitedly about things I didn’t understand, and I started daydreaming. “But ... I’m going to miss spending days like this with you.” He lifted my hand and kissed it. “It’s really too bad you don’t like football; you could come to some of the games with me.”

“I have much better things to do with my Saturdays than watch college dudes run each other over and throw a football around.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, you know, binge watching Keeping up with the Kardashians, painting my fingernails, helping Dani scout for men ... girl stuff.” I shrugged, and he laughed.

“Yeah ... I’ll just stick to getting paid to watch football while you do all that.”

“See, it works out perfectly then.”

We fell into a comfortable silence as we walked. We got back to Quinn’s Subaru a few minutes later and were halfway home before either of us spoke again.

“Soooo, I have a question to ask you,” Quinn said, his voice full of nerves. I didn’t like where this was going. Quinn was never nervous or shy; it was one of the things I liked most about him. “I know you already said no, but I was thinking—”

“The answer is still no,” I interjected.

“Now wait, hear me out. You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”

“Quinn, I’m not dumb, but fine, I’ll listen. Although, you should know my answer will probably still be no.”

“Just listen,” he said. I folded my arms across my chest and huffed out a breath. This was the last thing I wanted to talk about, especially after the amazing day we’d had so far.

“I always thought you were crazy for wanting to have a threesome, but now I know why people do it. It’s hot.”

“Is it not hot when it’s just us?” I spat out.

“Don’t try and twist this around … of course it is. But seriously, babe, it never hurts to spice things up a bit.”

“No,” I said angrily. “And just so you know, we-have-great-sex-but things-could-be-spicier, isn’t a good argument.”

“Chloe,” he said matter-of-factly. “You loved it. I know you did. I didn’t think I would, but I loved it too, so why not? Besides, Carson—”

“Why does it have to be Carson? Why couldn’t it be someone else?”

“Just some random dude?”

“Or girl.”

“You just want to pick someone up at a bar or what? How would you go about finding some random stranger who wants to have a threesome? Never mind, it doesn’t matter, because we’re not doing that. I don’t want to bring someone we don’t know into this. What if they’re psycho?”

“You know people do this all the time, right? There are social media sites and clubs specifically for this purpose. It’s called swinging.”

“It’s just easier with Carson. He’s into it, I’m into it, and whether you try to deny it or not, you’re into it too,” he said, and I let out a groan. “What’s your problem anyway? I don’t get it.”

Other than I want nothing more in the world than to be fucked completely senseless by your best friend, nothing. Everything is peachy, I thought to myself.

“Nothing,” I huffed. “Can we just talk about something else?” I knew I was overreacting, but I didn’t have a good reason for not wanting to do it again—not one I could tell Quinn anyway.

Quinn mumbled under his breath and turned up the music.

---

He didn’t drop it, though. He was fucking relentless—every single day the same conversation. He brought it up, I told him no, we both got pissed. To help make his point, he’d refused my advances twice since our conversation on Saturday.

When I got home from work Friday night, Quinn had cooked dinner, set the table, and poured the wine. I was so impressed with his scallops and wild mushroom risotto I didn’t even question his motives.

We made it all the way through dinner and dessert—ice cream from a shop down the street—and were sitting on the couch on our patio, my feet in Quinn’s lap, before he brought it up.

“Chloe,” he said, rubbing his thumbs in circles on the bottom of my foot. “Can we ... I ... please,” he stumbled over the words. I rolled my eyes at him, he’d asked me the same question every night for a week, but now he suddenly couldn’t get the words out?

“You’re never going to drop this, are you?” I took a long sip of my wine.

“I probably would, eventually, but it might be a long, cold winter before that happens.” He smiled and winked, like he thought it was funny he was withholding sex. It wasn’t.

“You’re an ass.”

“Yeah, but you love me anyway.”

“Right now I’m not so sure about that,” I said. He didn’t say anything, just looked at me, his big brown eyes begging me to say yes. “Fine.” I glared at him. “But this is not going to be a regular thing.”

“Whatever you say, babe,” he said, grinning.

“I’m serious.” I tried to sound annoyed, but secretly I was a little excited, too. Maybe this could work? We could just have threesomes with Carson—I’d get to keep my marriage, and have sex with the man of fantasies. It might all work out.