The Wedding Crasher

Dean puts out his hands and glances at them, then he raises his chin and pins me with a red-hot gaze. “Is that something you like? Watching?”I grip the tub’s edge. His voice is low and silky and glides over my body like a caress. He’s ensnaring me in his net, and I suspect he doesn’t even know it. I have no choice but to respond truthfully. “It’s not something I’ve done often. But yes, the idea of watching people have sex turns me on . . . What about you?”He leans over and rakes his fingers over the tops of his thighs, as if he’s desperately trying not to stroke himself. “I’m turned on right now. Does that count?”Jesus. He’s killing me. And maybe he does know it. “Depends. Are you turned on by the idea of stepping outside this bathroom and watching other people have sex?”He licks his lips and nods. “I am.”Coupled with the memory of last night’s masterful kiss, his admission leaves me breathless. “I am too.” What neither of us is saying is that we’re turned on not just by the setting but also by each other. I, for one, am not ready to take that leap. Still, I can help him explore a part of himself he may never have considered until now—and experience my own pleasure in the process. “Would you like to go out there and watch? With me?”His nostrils flare, and his eyes flash with unbridled need. “I would.”I bite back a moan. Well, that escalated perfectly.

In the bedroom, Natalia’s muttering to herself as she double-checks the contents of her overnight bag.I throw up my hands. “What do you need Sudoku for?”“To pass the time,” she says between breaths.“Natalia, I think you’re going to be a little too busy for Sudoku. And when the baby arrives, you’ll be lucky if you have enough time to wipe your ass properly.”“Oh my God. Just shut up. Shut up,” she says, scrunching up her face and placing a hand on her lower back. “And here I thought I was the drama queen.”

“Oh, the electric stimulator! I definitely need that.”I flinch my head back. “The what?”She dons a devilish expression, then huffs and puffs. “Paulo and I took this New Age birthing class that encourages the partner who isn’t in physical labor to experience simulated contractions. It’s supposed to bring us closer together and teach him empathy. Supposedly it reduces my pain too.”“No shit!”“Who knows?” she says, shrugging her shoulders. “But it’s the least he could do considering he’s the reason we’re in this mess.”