Read Online Hotwife Hotel: A Wifewatching Romance by Jason Lenov - Free Book Online
Authors: Jason Lenov
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would expect more. I knew the one-word answer would immediately betray that something was up, but I couldn't bring myself to push any more words out.
She knew. Right away she knew. She furrowed her brow and tilted her head and looked at me funny, and I knew what she was going to ask before she asked it. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." Gah! I wanted to be a better actor than this. I didn't want her to see me pouting and sulking like this, not now, not with him there.
"I'll be down in just a bit," Andre said behind her. Whether he sensed there was something going on or not, I didn't know, but I was glad for the time alone with her.
"Sure," she said, turning towards him and smiling. When she looked back, she seemed to have resolved to be cheerful. "So, Mr. Pouty Pants? What is it?"
What to tell her?
What to tell her?
Well gee honey, I could say, I've just been doing a lot of fetishizing lately and now I'm kind of confused about our relationship, so I think you're having an affair with our first bed and breakfast guest.
I took a deep breath. They say breathing helps.
"I...what were you two doing?" I spit out before I could stop myself.
A raised eyebrow, a puzzled frown then the glimmer of understanding in her eyes at what I was asking, exactly.
"John, are you...are you jealous?" she whispered.
The way she said it forged my jealous rage into a rigid lust that made me stiffen and want to take her there on the table. There was nothing accusatory about her tone, nothing that indicated her disdain for what I felt. Quite the opposite. It almost seemed to thrill her, that I might be jealous of another man.
"I..." I began, searching her eyes for what she was trying to say. I couldn't say "no" because she knew it. She knew already that that's what was burning inside me. That my stare when they walked through the door had been driven by jealousy. But did she know that I felt something else?
"You, what?" she said, still leaning over me, her generous cleavage daring me to look down at the cleft between her breasts instead of at her eyes. There was mischief in them now. Had she been a naughty girl?
Did she know how hard I was? Could she sense it? Could she smell it? "So yeah, what were you guys doing?"
She straightened and folded her arms across her chest. The smile curled up one side of her mouth in a devilish kind of way. "I was out back showing him the garden and the view."
I breathed deeply again, trying to calm my pulse and my confused excitement. "Oh..." It was a dejected, sad sound, as heavy with disappointment as it was with relief.
"Would you rather I not do that anymore? With the guests, I mean?"
My mind began to race again. Why didn't I just ask her? Why didn't I just tell her what I felt? Because how do you do that? How do you just say that to someone who you know so well, that you want something and don't want it at the same time?
"No!" I managed a guffaw this time. "Of course you can do it. I was just wondering." I erupted into smiles, trying to lighten the mood even though my blood still boiled inside.
"Okay..."
She seemed confused now.
"What's for dinner tonight?" Andre's deep voice boomed from the stairwell right before I saw him walk in, rubbing his hands together in glee.
"Beef Wellington," Rebecca replied, still looking at me. "But I have to take a shower before I do that. I'm filthy."
My cock flexed again.
Chapter 11
I lay in bed staring at the ceiling and listening to the wind which had picked up again outside. Waves crashed against the cliffs in the darkness and made it seem like trouble was brewing, with the weather, anyways.
Through dinner I'd barely said anything, letting her and Andre talk and laugh. I'd tried not to stare, but most of the time couldn't help myself. His hands. I kept looking at those big, black hands of his and thinking of them pressed against her skin. It had made me rock hard, lusting after her like I hadn't in a long time.
When she walked out of the bathroom, my heart
She knew. Right away she knew. She furrowed her brow and tilted her head and looked at me funny, and I knew what she was going to ask before she asked it. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." Gah! I wanted to be a better actor than this. I didn't want her to see me pouting and sulking like this, not now, not with him there.
"I'll be down in just a bit," Andre said behind her. Whether he sensed there was something going on or not, I didn't know, but I was glad for the time alone with her.
"Sure," she said, turning towards him and smiling. When she looked back, she seemed to have resolved to be cheerful. "So, Mr. Pouty Pants? What is it?"
What to tell her?
What to tell her?
Well gee honey, I could say, I've just been doing a lot of fetishizing lately and now I'm kind of confused about our relationship, so I think you're having an affair with our first bed and breakfast guest.
I took a deep breath. They say breathing helps.
"I...what were you two doing?" I spit out before I could stop myself.
A raised eyebrow, a puzzled frown then the glimmer of understanding in her eyes at what I was asking, exactly.
"John, are you...are you jealous?" she whispered.
The way she said it forged my jealous rage into a rigid lust that made me stiffen and want to take her there on the table. There was nothing accusatory about her tone, nothing that indicated her disdain for what I felt. Quite the opposite. It almost seemed to thrill her, that I might be jealous of another man.
"I..." I began, searching her eyes for what she was trying to say. I couldn't say "no" because she knew it. She knew already that that's what was burning inside me. That my stare when they walked through the door had been driven by jealousy. But did she know that I felt something else?
"You, what?" she said, still leaning over me, her generous cleavage daring me to look down at the cleft between her breasts instead of at her eyes. There was mischief in them now. Had she been a naughty girl?
Did she know how hard I was? Could she sense it? Could she smell it? "So yeah, what were you guys doing?"
She straightened and folded her arms across her chest. The smile curled up one side of her mouth in a devilish kind of way. "I was out back showing him the garden and the view."
I breathed deeply again, trying to calm my pulse and my confused excitement. "Oh..." It was a dejected, sad sound, as heavy with disappointment as it was with relief.
"Would you rather I not do that anymore? With the guests, I mean?"
My mind began to race again. Why didn't I just ask her? Why didn't I just tell her what I felt? Because how do you do that? How do you just say that to someone who you know so well, that you want something and don't want it at the same time?
"No!" I managed a guffaw this time. "Of course you can do it. I was just wondering." I erupted into smiles, trying to lighten the mood even though my blood still boiled inside.
"Okay..."
She seemed confused now.
"What's for dinner tonight?" Andre's deep voice boomed from the stairwell right before I saw him walk in, rubbing his hands together in glee.
"Beef Wellington," Rebecca replied, still looking at me. "But I have to take a shower before I do that. I'm filthy."
My cock flexed again.
Chapter 11
I lay in bed staring at the ceiling and listening to the wind which had picked up again outside. Waves crashed against the cliffs in the darkness and made it seem like trouble was brewing, with the weather, anyways.
Through dinner I'd barely said anything, letting her and Andre talk and laugh. I'd tried not to stare, but most of the time couldn't help myself. His hands. I kept looking at those big, black hands of his and thinking of them pressed against her skin. It had made me rock hard, lusting after her like I hadn't in a long time.
When she walked out of the bathroom, my heart
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