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“Oh, we’ll see about that.”
Chapter Five
Coop
“Ineed to take this,” I say when my phone rings loudly next to me. Matthew and I are lounging by the pool at the spa. He’s looking very relaxed in that fluffy white cotton robe of his, a swimsuit depressingly underneath. I’d much rather he be naked, but when I suggested it, he just rolled his eyes and tugged that swimsuit on without breaking eye contact.
I got the point then and there.
No dick sightseeing for me today.
My gaze shifts to the cocktail in his hand. I bought it for him when he started to get upset about the cost of things and he hasn’t stopped sipping at it since. Seems he likes it, not that his stubborn self would ever admit that to me.
His free hand moves down to scratch at his junk. Junk that I’d very much like to fondle right now. But I have a feeling that Mr. Straighty McStraight Pants would turn me down if I offered.
Fuck, he looks damn good. A tasty snack. One I can’t have, but will drool over nonetheless.
“No problem,” he says, his eyelids drooping. That drink must have a lot of alcohol in it. Either that, or he’s actually relaxing.
Hell yes. He’s gonna be snoozing on the massage table later. I grin as I stand and walk far enough away that Matthew can’t hear what I’m about to say. Some things need to stay private.
“Cooper, what the fuck did you just message us?” I hear my friend, Owen, drawl. We’ve known each other since second grade when he walked up to me and complimented my cashmere sweater. I knew then we’d be best friends. He has impeccable taste.
I peer back at Matthew, who is casually sucking on his straw. A little too long, if you ask me. Watching his tongue snake around the straw is doing things to my dick. He really is the sexiest man I’ve seen in real life, and he doesn’t even realize what he’s doing to me. I might not survive this marriage, let alone the divorce.
“Are you a married man? For real?” I hear Patrick ask, and I nod. Patrick is a friend I met two years ago at a drag show and immediately clicked with. Sometimes you just find people you’re platonic soulmates with—like Beau. He and I are ride or die. Always have been, always will be. Patrick is another one of those. I will be friends with him until I pass from this green earth.
“I am a married man. It’s been a week now.”
“Well, shit,” Owen says with a small chuckle. “Can we get together to discuss? I’m sure there’s a story behind all this.”
“Lunch next week?” I ask, and I hear Patrick clear his throat.
“Of course. I need all the details. Every last one.”
“Well, you won’t be getting all the details, but I’ll tell you enough.”
I hear them both snicker on the other end of the line. Truth is, some of what’s happened with Matthew is sacred, and I’m not about to spill all of that to my friends. Some of those secrets are just for me, things I get to tuck away and analyze later.
I quickly input the time and place we’re going to meet into my calendar and say goodbye before heading back to Matthew.
“Everything okay?” he asks, and I nod, reaching down to run my hand through his hair. He leans into my touch as I scrape my nails against his scalp, and my entire body thrums when I hear that content little sigh escape his lips.
He will never admit it, but he loves this. I can sense it, can see it as clear as day.
Matthew Morris is a touch-starved man, and I intend to give him everything he needs.
He will be so saturated with it that he’ll desire me in ways he never expected.
I’ve always wondered what it would be like to help a man into a sexual awakening. I feel like Matthew may resist the process because he’s very stuck in his ways. But he’s still wearing his wedding ring, despite grumbling about it, so there’s still hope.
I look down at my own ring that I have no plans to remove.
I am nothing if not a dedicated spouse.
“Yep, just a couple of friends planning a lunch date for next week. I’d invite you along, but I think you’re working.”
“Probably am,” he says as he takes another long sip of his drink. I watch as those lips wrap around the straw, watch as he sucks and then swallows. It’s torture. Utter bliss. I’m not going to survive this.
