This story began in 1987 when Rob met his soon-to-be bride, Hope. She was attending a prestigious all-girls college near the town where he had grown up. Unlike the local girls, she had both looks and intelligence, a rare combination where Rob was from, and he was immediately drawn to her. Eighteen months later, the two were married and moved to a mid-sized Midwestern city where they would spend the rest of their lives. Ro...

The next morning, as Hope lay in bed, the events of the previous night played back in her mind like a vivid movie. She turned to Rob, who was still sleeping peacefully beside her, and smiled, remembering the incredible journey they had shared. Deciding to let him rest, she quietly got out of bed and headed to the kitchen to make coffee. As the coffee brewed, Hope grabbed a notepad and pen, feeling the need to capture her...

The morning sun filtered through the bedroom curtains, casting golden patterns across the tangled sheets where Hope and Shelly lay entwined. Hope stirred first, her body a symphony of pleasant aches and satisfied exhaustion. She blinked open her eyes to find Shelly already watching her, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Morning, beautiful," Shelly murmured, her voice still husky from sleep and passion. Hope stretched lan...

The phone rang, and Hope hesitated before answering, already knowing who it was. She had been expecting Shelly's call, dreading it even, but also anticipating it with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. "Hey, Shelly," Hope said, trying to keep her voice steady. "Hope, how are you doing?" Shelly's voice was warm and concerned, but Hope could detect a hint of something else…excitement, perhaps, or anticipation. Hope took a...

The afternoon sun was a warm, golden blanket on Shelly’s secluded deck. Rob and Matt had decided to go golfing with some buddies while Ryan dragged Emma home to recover. Hope stretched like a contented cat in her lounger, the pleasant ache in her muscles a constant, thrilling reminder of the night before. The ice in her glass of rosé clinked softly as she took a sip. Shelly passed her a cigarette she had lit for her, a wi...

Sunday Morning The room was bathed in the soft, forgiving light of a Sunday morning, the air still thick with the ghosts of perfume, sweat, and sin. Hope lay with her head on Rob’s chest, his heartbeat a steady drum beneath her ear. His fingers traced the line of her spine, possessive and calm. “Top three,” he murmured, his voice a low vibration against her skin. “Start with the best. The one you’ll dream about when you’r...