Page 98 of Betrayed By Love

Chapter 13

“You’re going to wear my bathrobe?” Foster questions as I emerge from the bedroom. He is wearing a pair of white swim trunks, and his Ray-Ban sunglasses sit on the top of his head.

“I said it’s a surprise.”

“You’re pushing it, Mrs. Black.”

I put my hands over the blue sash. “Close your eyes.”

He snorts but does as I request. As soon as they were shut, I disrobe and toss it onto the white wicker chair Foster was occupying earlier.

“Open them.”

Foster’s eyes grow large as they travel down from my face. He whistles at my silver micro bikini. “Forget the beach. I’d like to strip you out of that and have my way with you.”

“Nope. I’d like to work on my tan. You can have your way with me later.”

“You know how to torture a guy.”

“Should I take my rings off?” I tease as I spin them with my fingers.

“No way. I want everyone to know you’re mine.”

“Who’s everyone? No one is around.”

“Wear them. I’m wearing mine.” Foster holds up his hand to reveal the thick platinum band I slipped on him months ago. He rarely takes it off, even when working out.

“I was thinking about the tan lines.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll be the only one who can see them. After you, Mrs. Black.” He gestures for me to pass by, and when I do, he whistles lowly.

“Jesus Christ, Paige. I can see your gorgeous ass.”

I chuckle, sashaying slightly. The bikini was as risqué as the orange one Emma asked me to try on, but I decided to go to the edge of what I was comfortable with, and it was having the desired effect on my husband. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Like it? I’m not sure if I want anyone else to see you in it.”

“No one will see me since our beach is private,” I remind him.

Foster grabs my arm and reels me into his chest, giving me a bruising kiss as his hands cup my bare bottom. “Our section of the beach is private, but the people at the one next door can see you.”

“I don’t care if they see. I wore this for you.”

He tugs at the tie on my bikini top, loosening it.

“What are you doing?” I cry, trying to hold it up.

“I need to fuck you.”

“Patience is a virtue.”

“Please,” Foster whines, his eyes pleading with me to say yes.

“Oh God, you’re like a teenage boy.”

He moves my hand to his crotch, rubbing it over his erection. “A teenage boy wouldn’t know what to do with this. Not the way I do.”

“Later,” I stress. “I promise to make it worth your while.”

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