The Husband Sitter - Page 13

“What kind of website?”

“Pornography,” she breathes, her knee beginning to bounce. “It was the nature of the videos that surprised me so much. Stepfather punishes stepdaughter. Stepdaughter seduces stepfather. Stepdaddy acts naughty when wife goes to the store…” She trails off with a headshake. “I checked the history and he’d watched hundreds with similar titles. He’d been watching them for a very long time.”

“So he…” A little ripple of heat between my thighs catches me off-guard. I know nothing of this kind of taste, as Mrs. Red puts it. Stepfathers aren’t supposed to be intimate with their stepdaughters. That’s not something that needs to be explained. That type of relationship would be wrong. So why is there a melting sensation in my middle? “So Mr. Red fantasizes about this. Do you have children or stepchildren?”

“No,” she blurts. “God, no.”

“And what is it you want from me?”

She regards me for a moment. “We have a good sex life for a couple that has been married as long as we have. I love him. He loves me. But this?” Her shoulders sag. “It’s a turn off for me. I can’t play along and call him Daddy—and I know, because I tried. It was a miserable failure.”

“Daddy,” I repeat, the word rolling off my tongue like summer lemonade. “That’s what he likes to be called.”

“Yes. That’s the main root of it, to be perfectly frank. He wants to be Daddy.” Her worry is obvious. “Is that a deal breaker for you?”

“No.” No, I think…it might be the opposite, but I have to explore the bubble of excitement in my blood later. Right now, Mrs. Red needs to be reassured. “What do you want from me tonight?”

She’s quiet for several beats. “We can’t have him on these questionable porn sites. Information is hacked far too easily these days. I’ve already had a full wipe done on his computer. But now the satisfaction of his taste needs to come from somewhere. If he’s going to slake these urges, it needs to happen in the privacy of our own home where he can’t harm his career.” A light smile transforms her face. “I’ve made peace with his needs and I’m looking forward to knowing he’s being fulfilled, Astrid. I want you to know I’m okay with this.”

“Okay with what?” I whisper.

“My husband being your Daddy for the night.”

That string of words almost knocks me backwards. A zip of eagerness races over my skin, but I’m still a touch unsettled. “Mrs. Black received peace of mind and, I think, the control she needs in her marriage. Mrs. Blue fulfilled a fantasy. That’s why I felt permitted to be with their husbands. It was only just for the men. What would you get out of tonight, Mrs. Red? There needs to be something, or I don’t think I’ll feel right about it.”

Her face warms. “I really do like you, Astrid.” She sweeps the room in a glance. “I want to protect my comfortable life. It might sound shallow, but I like my friends, my possessions, the ease I’ve become accustomed to. I will do anything necessary to prevent myself from losing what I’ve built. And yes, I did build it. I might come across as the frivolous wife, but I’m equally responsible for getting us here. I plan to keep us here, too.” A beat passes. “If I’m being honest, I’m taking a little pleasure in making this arrangement. It’s strategic and proactive and I’m looking forward to tomorrow when I’m not waiting for a shoe to drop.”

The low hum of relaxation she projects with that final admission satisfies me that she’s telling the truth. With that final piece of the puzzle fitted into place, I let myself sink into the adventure ahead. This one might excite me most of all.

CHAPTER FIVE

I wait in the pool house for evening to fall. Well, pool house is what Mrs. Red calls the bright, airy duplex overlooking the golf course on one side, an Olympic-sized swimming pool on the other. There are several rooms to choose from and I end up crawling into a circular bed positively covered in throw pillows of every color. After a brief nap, I shower and dress in the clothing Mrs. Red provided, smoothing lotion over every inch of my body.

In doing so, I notice how sexual I feel. Every touch is sensual and meant to stimulate. I press my hips to the bathroom sink and massage lotion into my breasts, slowly grinding myself against the white porcelain. What will Mr. Red look like? Will he be surprised by my presence, or is he aware I’m coming? I like the unknown, though. I’ve surprised myself with my ability to adapt since leaving the compound and I’m beginning to think my mother was correct. It’s possible there is something unique about me that benefits others. I want it to be true so badly. After enhancing the relationships of the Blacks and Blues, I want this to be my calling.

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