Piper

My phone’s taunting me now that I have West’s number. When he rattled off the digits, I assumed they belonged to his wife. She and I are the ones who set up the dates and times, and having her number would make it that much faster. But I wasn’t sure I wanted to speak to her or hear her voice so soon. Email’s easier for me. It’s less personal, if that’s even possible when you’ve seen each other naked.

I want to swing again, but I’m still accepting the fact that my husband’s been inside Tilly. She radiates confidence, knows what she likes, and has no trouble asking for it. She’s completely uninhibited.

If I were anything like her, I’d have called West by now and told him what I wanted him to do to me. But I’m not. And I can’t be that person.

I could barely look him in the eye when he was standing in front of me on the beach. I just let the water lap at my feet until I was buried up to my ankles in sand. Just like his smile, the ocean pulled me close and tried to keep me there. Only when I started to lose my balance did I take my eyes off West long enough to pull my feet out. And, when I looked at him again, I saw something that made it hard for me to swallow.

The first time he’d asked me to kiss him, he’d had that same look. It begged me to listen to him, to really hear him, and be comfortable in his embrace. He’d wanted me to break free and come alive.

From the second he’d licked the seam of my lips with his tongue and I’d let him in, I’d prayed I’d be enough to satisfy such a gorgeous man. Once he’d had my permission, that was all he asked of me, never pushing for more than I was able to give. But he had taken all I gave him, and I swore, it went beyond want; it was need.

My head’s still all over the place, remembering where he’s been and feeling him in all those places.

Concentrating on anything other than West is impossible.

This morning, I burned Cannon’s toast, spilled his coffee, and forgot to iron his dress shirt. He kissed my cheek instead of my lips before he left for work in a similar daze, and I know it had everything to do with swinging.

I thought I’d get my head on straight after I saw West this morning, but speaking with him only made things worse. I had to cut my run short. Not even a long, sweaty jog could clear my head.

Nothing feels the same as it did before I had West. Not even my husband.

I need a distraction, so I head straight for the bathroom and turn on some music. A shower would be faster, but what do I have to do today? Absolutely nothing, and suddenly, I miss my job a little bit more.

I pour some jasmine bath soap into the tub and turn on the water. While it’s filling, I go to the kitchen for some coffee.

With my mug in hand, I stand in front of the sliding glass door, and my heart skips a beat. West is passing by with his shirt in his hand, pounding his feet into the sand. Like he can feel me watching, he turns his head and glances at the house.

Maybe he’s thinking of me, too.

I watch him until he’s out of sight and manage to make it to the bathroom before the tub overflows. As soon as I strip off my sports bra and spandex, I sink beneath the water and groan.

West said he took it easy on me. If last night was easy, I can only imagine what it’d be like if he wasn’t so careful. I’ve never had rough sex. Sex with Cannon is always sweet and sincere even when I beg him to move harder and faster.

With West, there’s an element of surprise. Because I don’t know what he likes or what turns him on, our time together could go in any direction. Maybe that’s what’s so appealing—the fact that he could toss me around and dirty me up. And I’d like it.

Every time I close my eyes, that’s exactly what I picture.

My phone chimes with an alert, and I risk dropping it in the tub just to see if I have an email from Tilly. I do. A quick read-through, and it’s clear how eager she is for another night. That familiar pang is back in my chest, and I think I must be crazy to send my husband back into her waiting arms.

Crazy or not, I reply, letting her know we’re good for tomorrow night. Cannon’s due in court, which means he’s guaranteed to be out of the office at a decent hour. Maybe I should have asked him before I agreed to another night, but I didn’t want to wait. Waiting would give him a chance to change his mind.

Before I set my phone down, I pull up my Contacts and stare at West’s number listed under Tilly’s name. A call would be too risky, but a text might be okay. After all, he wouldn’t have given me his number if he didn’t expect me to use it.

Piper: It’s me.

I wait a couple of seconds, wondering if he’ll blow me off or respond. He doesn’t make me wait long, and I smile when his response comes through.

Tilly: Hey.

But I decide I don’t like her name attached to our conversation and quickly change it to his.

Piper: Is this okay?

West: Depends.

My hands start to shake even though I’m sitting in warm water. Maybe I overstepped by messaging him. Maybe this number is only for emergencies. But what constitutes an emergency? Needing him so bad, my body aches to be touched? Because, if that’s the case, then this is definitely an emergency.

Piper: On what?

West: If you’re naked or not.

The trembling stops, and I smile. I’m not used to a man being this direct, but I like it. I like it more than I thought possible.

Piper: I’m taking a bath.

West: Fuck. Send me a pic.

I bite my lip and aim the phone at the bath, snapping a quick picture. I’ve never done anything like this before, and it’s thrilling that a simple picture of my body can bring someone else so much pleasure. You can see the tips of my knees poking out of the water with little soap bubbles around them. If you zoom in, you might be able to see more of my skin beneath the water. There’s no indication that it’s me, just a little piece of my body.

West snaps one of himself and sends it back. He’s still sweaty from his run and hard as a rock, every glorious inch of him.

Piper: I’ll help you with that tomorrow.

West: With your mouth?

He doesn’t ask for any of the details of our next meetup, just bypasses them entirely and focuses on what I promise to do for him. But I know he’ll be ready for me, just like I’m already aching for him.

Piper: You want me to suck you?

West: As hard as you fucking can.

I can’t bring myself to tell him how much I want to taste him. I’ve never sent dirty texts to someone I barely know, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to make him feel as good as he’s making me feel. Because I’m so turned on, I debate fingering myself, but I can’t. When West touches me, I want him to feel how ready I am, how long I’ve been craving him.

I wish I had more of him to take the edge off, something to satisfy my craving, but the picture will have to be enough. It’s another reminder of how much I need this. How much I need to swing another night. Maybe it’ll get old, and we’ll get bored with each other, but right now, it’s more than I ever could have imagined.