Page 12 of A Season Of Sin

“It’s gonna hurt,” she says. “At least a little.”

“I like it when you finger me.” I more than like it. But that’s neither here nor there.

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I know, but that’s not the same as a dick. Trust me.”

Chuckling at her directness, I wink at my hottie. “Oh. I do. You take my dick like a champ all the fuckin’ time.”

A smirk ticks up at the edge of Gracie’s lips. “Well, now you’ll know exactly what it’s like.”

Yeah. I guess I will.

Walking over to my wife, I hug her up until her toes no longer touch the floor. “I love you, babe.”

Arms around my neck, tits smashed against me, Gracie giggles. “I love you, too, handsome.”

As I lower Gracie back onto her feet, I cup her face and stare into those stunning eyes. “Thanks for being the best fuckin’ wife.”

Her soft grin says it all as she cups my dick over my shorts, forcing me to groan. “You’re welcome. I expect amazing gifts for Christmas.”

“Does Wolf count?”

“I suppose he does. I wonder how big his cock is.”

Waggling my brows, I grab Gracie’s wrist and rub her palm up and down my length. “It’s big,” I rasp.

She licks her lip. “How do you know?”

“I’ve sat in the sauna with him for years. Those shorts don’t hide much.” Or at all.

“Lucky.”

Oh. I am… in more ways than one.

Releasing my wife’s hand, I swat her juicy ass. She giggles, and all the tension is forgotten. I will my erection to go down as I gather the tree and ornaments from our creepy basement. Gracie goes back into the living room to chat with Wolf.

When I return with the boxes, she’s sitting next to him on the couch, talking like long-lost friends. They’re smiling, sharing laughs, and touching nonstop—a little nudge here, a rub there. If I didn’t know what my wife looks like when she’s horny, I’d assume this was a playful friendship, but it’s not. Her lips are chewed up, and her pupils are dilated. She’s breathing heavier than usual and fiddling with her shirt and hair. She’s fuckin’ adorable, getting all hot and bothered over Wolf. Not that I blame her.

I’d never been attracted to a man before him, and I haven’t been attracted to another since. He’s tattooed all over, about my height, and lean as fuck. Those tight abs and gutters at his hips pair well with his tight ass. I’m not sure how much older he is than us, but I’d guess he’s in his forties. The graying facial scruff and the bits throughout his dark hair are a dead giveaway, as are his smile lines. But that’s not what I find the most attractive. It’s our connection. It’s always been our connection. It’s easy with him, as easy as it is with Gracie.

She and I met in high school, and sure, we’ve had our moments, but our relationship is far easier than any of the guys’ I know at the station. They’re constantly complaining about their wives, and I can’t relate. Gracie is my better half. I’d go as far as to say she’s my soul mate, if they exist.

I know she feels the same.

She always has.

We’re open like that.

No secrets. No drama.

Once I carry the last Christmas decorations up from the basement, I'm dripping in sweat. On my way back to the living room, I toss my damp shirt in the laundry.

Eyeing me appreciatively, Wolf whistles as Gracie sets up one of our many tripods to film us decorating so she can share it with her followers.

“Fuck, kid.”

Stopping in front of the fireplace, I run a hand down my abs, blushing all the way to my toes. “When I cut, all these are gonna pop.”

Wolf’s gaze locks on my stomach. “You’d damn well better never cut.”