Page 104 of Insta Bride

“If I pick you up at seven?”

“Pick me up?”

“I’m gonna be working late. I’m basically swinging by home, getting changed in a flash and we’ll be ready to go.”

“Are you driving, or am I?”

“The production guys have organized a limo. They don’t want to miss any reaction.”

“It’s just a work dinner,” she sighed. “I’ve met your clients for drinks before. Why is this one such a big deal?”

I understood her nerves. Mine were already on fire. My career and our financial future relied on this dinner.

“I told you, they wanted new footage of you mixing with my world and the idea of you being at my side when I win over a new client turned them on.”

“But why would the new client agree to this?”

“I don’t know but I emailed over the NDAs and publicity shots, and even warned the guy that just because production asks, he didn’t need to agree. If he pulled the pin, the three of us would meet privately.”

“You couldn’t convince him?”

“Babe, he doesn’t listen to anything I say. He’s got an ego the size of my dick.”

“That small?” Elena gave me her throaty laugh and reminded me how I loved shoving my cock down her throat. Damn, the only thing better was tasting her as she came. Eating my wife was a meal I could have morning, noon and night—if she’d let me.

“Baby, maybe you need a reminder.”

“Fine. I’ll be ready—but at the moment, I’m still wearing yoga pants.”

“That’s because you need me to get back to work. I’ve got a dress to buy.”

“You haven’t even bought the dress yet?” She half squealed, “but you’re working back late.”

“Babe, you should know how well I multi-task. I can make you breakfast and eat you for brunch at the same time.”

Okay, so I’d had an incentive to get home early.

I’d never walked in the door at 5:30. But, walking into our apartment to see my wife in the bath became a reward in itself.

“Mind if I join you?”

For once, her body and words were in sync. “You are my husband.”

“I want to be more than that.”

“You want to be more than my husband?”

“I want to be more.” I loosened my tie, slipping it over my head and tossing it aside.

“I want to be more than your husband on paper.” I pulled my shirt over my head, not wasting time with undoing buttons, watching for any reaction. Yes, her eyes got that beautiful, hooded glaze she’d hold right up until she came. My trousers quickly dropped to the floor and I kicked away my shoes and toed away my socks.

“I want to be more than your husband in name only.”

“Then, let me introduce myself.” Elena sat up, her perky breasts covered in soap suds that screamed to be blown away. She reached for my erection and I almost exploded on impact.

Yes, we’d returned to clinical, flirty, banter. Elena almost challenged my cock to wither and die. Un-fucking-likely. My cock hadn’t seen anything but hand-to-hand action since before I’d gone to Melbourne.

“Elena, you touch it, you own it,” I warned, not wanting to tell her she already did. Still, I stood at the edge of the bath, my cock in her hands and soap suds floating all around.

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