The Ex (The Boss 4)

I considered it. Pegging Neil… It did have a naughty kind of fascination for me.

But that wasn’t the issue at the moment. I reached across the table and covered Emir’s hand with my own. “Are you all right?” Was it okay for me to be asking this? “Is there anything we can do?”

“No, no,” he said gently. “None of this is your concern. I just wanted to make both of you aware that my withdrawal from communication is not a reflection of my feelings for you.”

“Well, I’m very sorry this has happened,” Neil said, taking a sip from his glass. “I’m divorced, myself. They aren’t easy.”

“No, but sometimes—” Emir nodded to me, “the outcome isn’t too bad.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Neil said with a chuckle, and he lifted his glass to clink against Emir’s.

In the car on the way home, I leaned my head against Neil’s shoulder and closed my eyes. “You don’t think we’ll ever get to a point like that, do you? Where we get…territorial over each other?”

His chest rose under my hand with a deep

breath. “I already feel territorial. As much as I enjoyed sharing you with Emir—and given the right partner, I would do it again—I think it’s only natural that I experience some jealousy as part of the process.”

“We’ve already established that my lack of jealousy over Emir has to do with my ignorance regarding your bisexuality.” I felt so bad about that, but it was hard to shake myself out of my previous stupid thinking. “Be sure to keep reminding me about that.”

“I certainly will,” he said with wry amusement in his voice. “You never know. You might feel equally unthreatened if I were to sleep with a woman.”

“But I won’t know until it happens.”

“Do you…” Neil paused. “My friend, Ian, and his wife, Gena, are swingers. And they did drop some hints at my birthday party. Would you be interested in having a date with them? We could see where it goes.”

I would definitely not have an issue sleeping with Ian. He was Neil’s age, seriously cool, had the crudest language I’d heard from anyone who wasn’t Deja, and wasn’t bad looking, either. Gena had been really friendly, and she was a gorgeous, curvy redhead with mountains of cleavage—basically, Neil’s ultimate sexual fantasy.

That did intimidate me, a little bit. I seemed to be the exact opposite of Neil’s ideal physical type for a woman. I was short, brunette, and my tits were on the small side when compared to Gena’s lush body. The firm, perky, small side, but still.

Was I going to freak out and get jealous seeing Neil with another woman? What if he liked her, but I didn’t like Ian? Or the reverse?

On top of that, I didn’t really know what “swinging” was. I had an idea, though. “Swinging is like the thing where you switch partners?”

“It can be,” Neil said with a nod that hesitated in the down position as he spoke. “Some swingers do partner swap, but some don’t. Sometimes, it’s a group activity. We wouldn’t know until we set the parameters. But we needn’t do that on a first date, unless things went in that direction.”

“Group?” I tried to imagine kissing Gena and touching her. I couldn’t quite see it. Holli and I had gotten drunk and made out once, but that had been weird because she was my best friend. Would it be weird with a woman under different circumstances?

I kind of wanted to find out.

CHAPTER SIX

As it so happened, Ian and Gena were free the next Friday night. Neil invited them out to the house, and I left work early so I could get ready.

“Do you think dinner will be done on time?” I called over my shoulder as I fastened my pearl earring.

“Yes, stop worrying about it. That’s quite Mad Men of you, isn’t it?” Neil asked with an amused slant to his mouth. I’d gone a little June Cleaver in a vintage white cocktail dress with a black lace overlay. I’d even put on crinolines under my skirt and donned a string of pearls.

“Vintage bra even!” I gestured to my super pointy chest and jumped up and down in my kitten heels. “No jiggle!”

“What brought all this on?” he asked, straightening the collar of his jacket. He wore white and black as well, a black jacket over a white button down. Instead of suit trousers, he wore dark indigo jeans. “It’s very sexy.”

“Hmm, who would I want to be sexy for?” I tapped one poppy-red oval fingernail on my matching red lips.

“Well, remember, tonight we’re just on a date. Sex is no guarantee.” He held out his arms. “How do I look?”

I stepped up and put my arms around his neck to smile up at his face. “Mmm, like a man who’s getting laid tonight, no matter what happens.”

“Well, that takes the pressure off, then.” He leaned down and kissed my cheek, rather than smudge my lipstick.