A nice dinner date with my hubby turns into us not wanting the night to end. So we go downtown to grab a drink. It’s the first time in ages we’ve been out, and we are both all smiles. It hasn’t been easy, but we are both trying.

The city pulses with noise and movement, music spilling out into the street. Brick buildings rise on either side, crowded with boutiques, tattoo shops, restaurants, and bars. I’m not really paying attention until my husband abruptly cuts toward one, his palm hitting the glass door.

I pull at his arm. “Not here,” I say, my voice breaking slightly.

He ignores me. “Come on, they have pool tables.” Smiling back at me.

I take a deep breath and send a little prayer up to the heavens, but before I could finish, I see him.

Fuck.

My heart rises into my throat, stealing all of my air. Jesus, this isn’t going to end well. Of course, he sees me right away, a wry smile forms on his lips, and sends ice through my veins.  I stiffen.

My husband senses the change immediately, and his eyes go from me to scanning the room. It’s only a few seconds before he sees him.

“Babe, let’s go.” Pleading and tugging at his arm, ready to bolt. “Please, it’s been such a great night.”

He runs his tongue over his teeth and jerks his sleeve out of my grasp.

Fuck.

My husband and I were having issues, the real kind that push you outside seeking comfort. That’s when I met Jax. Too many years younger to say out loud and drop dead gorgeous.

My husband walks right up to him. Jax was playing pool, leaning over the table, lining up his shot. A sinister grin spreads across his face as he sees my husband approaching. He shoots and sinks the ball cleanly and hands his pool stick to his buddy.

He stares, waiting, coming around the table slowly, and leaning back against it. He’s rolling a toothpick around lazily in his mouth, looking sexy as fuck, making me feel sick.

He nods toward my husband as he walks right up to him.

“What can I do for you…” Pausing. “This time?” His voice smug, he lets out a short laugh, his buddy joining in.

My stomach sinks.

“You like fucking with other men’s wives?" My husband spits.

“Nah, not as a rule, just yours.” He straightens up, finds my eyes, and winks at me. I swallow hard just as my man pushes him hard.

He scoffs. Barely budging. “You done,” he says, grinning. Please, I pray, please be done.

“You have a lot of nerve, I should fucking knock you out,” my husband's voice boomed. It makes me wince.

Jax narrows his eyes. “Me? I have a lot of nerve?” He scoffs. “No disrespect, but come on, man, your wife was clearly needing something she wasn’t getting at home. I was more than happy to oblige. You should really thank me.” He clicked the inside of his cheek.

My mouth hangs open. My husband takes a deep breath, turns, and gives me a look that's equal parts hurt and infuriated. I swallow hard, pleading with my eyes for this to be over. I mouth, 'I’m so sorry to my husband,' my eyes pricked with tears.

Jax steps toward my husband, taller, border. I step between them, facing Jax. “That’s enough,” I hiss.

He puts his hands up in mock surrender and leans down, his breath in my ear. “Usually, I’m the one giving the orders, baby girl. But I’ll allow it, this once, that was sexy as hell.” He retreats grinning, and my stomach flips.

My husband needs the final word, and I hope Jax will let it be. “You can stand there smiling if you want. But the fact is, you lost your place the moment she was welcomed home.”

Jax takes a step back, the words dripping off his tongue with the deep vibrato that used to make my panties fall to the floor.

“Still, my man, I think you need to keep your wife on a shorter leash, or I will.” He catches my eye, “I remember you liking that, right El?” A crooked smile forms on his lips as he walks away.

My husband inhales deeply, “This mother fucker,” grumbling under his breath, as he turns and starts toward the door, me hurrying to match his step.

“I still can’t believe you cheated on me with that fucking loser,” he spits as his hands hit the door with force, shoving it open.

“Babe…” My voice is thin as the breeze from the outdoors hits me, trying to think of what to say next.

He stops abruptly, and I run into him awkwardly. He doesn’t turn around, asks quietly, “Did he really have you on a leash, El?” My silence was enough. He scoffs in disgust or perhaps disbelief. “Don’t follow me.” His words cut through the noise as he walks away.

I open my mouth, but the words die in my throat, and I can't breathe.

Jax is already here, right behind me. His fingers sweep the hair from my shoulder gently as I watch my husband disappear down the street into the crowd through the glass door. Jax’s lips brush against my neck, my head sinks into him, and my eyes fall closed.

“I thought he’d never leave.” That thick southern drawl pours over me as he sings the song playing overhead into my ear, sending chills. Sam Hunt, because of course it is. “I’ll make you miss me, make you wish that you were sleeping in my shirt.”

Fuck it. I turn and kiss him. Deeply.

He pulls back. “Are we doing this?” His face looks serious. “I know I play around. A lot.” A smile forms. “But don’t tease me, baby. I’ll have to punish you.”

I stare up at him, lost in his jet black eyes. I nod, and before I could register a proper response, he grabs my hand and leads me behind the bar to the back stairs.

Jax owns the bar. I should have protested harder with my husband, but maybe I knew this would happen, and maybe I wanted it to.

At the top of the stairs, he flings open his apartment door and lifts me with ease, my legs straddle his hips, as he kicks the door closed with his boot. Kissing me all the way to his bedroom down the hall.

The bed was unmade and looked as though many women had passed between these sheets since I was here last. He drops me down, his grip already certain, as he takes my wrist like it’s second nature, no hesitation, no fumbling, just a practiced motion and secures it to a restraint, tethering me to the bedpost with quiet precision.

“The fuck?!”

“Shhhh.” He breathes, pulling my other arm toward the opposite side and locking into place as I protest. The leather was tight, and I had to wriggle upwards to ease the discomfort.

Jax licks his lips. “Fuck I’ve missed you.” His fingers find their way under my dress and pull my panties down, and toss them on the floor.

I swallow hard. I’ve never felt this exposed. I trust him, but I’m still tense from the exchange downstairs. I take a deep breath, and he catches my eye.

“Baby.” He softly whispers as he brushes the hair from my forehead and kisses me gently. “I won’t ever hurt you, you know that.” He raises his eyebrows, waiting.  I nod, letting out my breath.

He pulls the strap on the wrist restraint tighter, making me wince, and his grin grows wider. Standing and slowly pulling his belt from his waist as he stares down at me like I’m prey.

While the restraints keep me from getting up, they have a smooth rotating ring that allows Jax to flip me over and position me face down. Then he uses a wedge pillow, tucking it high under my hips to elevate my waist. My breath caught in my throat with the position change.

He opens his bedside drawer; I can't see, but I remember what he keeps in there. I lay there waiting in heightened anticipation for his next move, my heart hammering in my ears.

I feel the oil hit my skin. Warm, thick, and sliding down the small of my back and between my legs. My breathing quickens, and blood pools hot, making me moan before I can stop myself.

I can hear his breathing change too as he moves onto the bed, the weight of his body making me sink down and using my knees to adjust my hips on the pillow. His fingers find their way to the very spot between my legs where I need them most.

“Jesus El…” he groans, “I’ve thought about you every day. And about this every night,” he confesses as he adjusts himself behind me. He slides into me slowly, waiting for me to adjust to his position again, before burying himself deep, filling me past my limit, making me squirm and squeal.

His rhythm is intense at first, like he can’t get to me fast enough, but with my hips, I try to slow him, and he responds to my subtle request. I feel more oil slide down between my legs as he moves slowly in and out, driving me wild.

Then, with his thumb circling unfamiliar territory, he slides out. He leans down, “You’ll take it, El, like the little slut I know you are,” he says, tapping the head several times at the tight entry. I gasp at the sensation. He’s pushing my boundaries; perhaps it’s payback for leaving him and going back to my husband. If my hands were free, I’d stop him, and he knows it.

“Jax,” I breathe, “please I…”

He slides his other hand up onto my throat, closing around it firmly. I swallow hard. “Baby, don’t deny me.” His voice is low. “I’ve been so patient with you. Be my good girl.”

He’s already decided how this is going to go. There’s no hesitation in him. When he steps in, it’s absolute. I feel my breath hitch, my muscles tighten on instinct, but it doesn’t change anything. I’m held in place.

I feel him press back hard against me. I brace myself. My body resists. More oil, more pressure, and then the breakthrough as he enters. I inhale sharply, and a muffled “Fuuuck” escapes my lips as I scream into the pillow.

The sharp burst of pain hits first, brief and undeniable. But it doesn't last. It softens, blurring at the edges until something else takes its place, heavier, fuller, impossible to separate from sensation.

Everything falls away into breathless silence, and until nothing outside of us exists anymore.

He reaches up and unfastens the restraints, and my palms find the bed, and I relax my shoulders into the pillows. He removes the wedge pillow and pulls me back into him, kneeling while keeping rhythm. He lifts my dress off, my head pressed back into him, his hands on my chest and between my legs.

I am overcome with pleasure, more intense than I’ve ever felt before, and I’m begging for him to push harder, faster, until I break open and my body reacts with extreme force. My legs shake hard, and my hands find the sheets and bunch them to my lips. I scream into them, unable to contain myself.

“God damn,” he breathes as he gently allows me to roll onto my back. He eases himself down over me, his thumb brushing against my cheek as he kisses me sweetly, looking into my eyes. “That was intense, babe. You liked that?” His grin shows he’s pleased with himself.

“Don’t get used to it,” I warn, but my faint smile gives me away.

He grins. “It’s your turn to reciprocate, baby.” He rolls over, lying on his back, threading his fingers behind his neck, and waits.

I lower myself down, keeping my eyes locked on him. I remember exactly what he likes, and it doesn’t take long before he wraps my hair around the fingers on both hands, pressing hard against the back of my head. He’s unrelenting and not allowing me to catch my breath.

“Every fucking drop,” he demands as he fills the back of my throat with wave after wave of his heat. He shudders hard, then his body relaxes. He stares down at me, unbudging, as I struggle to take it all down, knowing he won't let me spit it out.

I push it down, and he slides out. I drag my teeth over my lips and swallow hard again as he urges me up onto his chest. His hand gently presses my face into the nook of his neck. “Careful, El, keep letting me do as I please, I might want to keep you around.”

I roll my eyes, and he laughs.

He traces slow circles across my back, fingers drifting through my hair. After a while, he breaks the silence.

“To be honest, I think I’d like something a little more official with you, El.”

I blink up at him. “I thought those words made you uncomfortable.”

“I think it's always been true,” he says, brushing my hair behind my ear. “I guess you're the one who’s going to have to get used to things getting uncomfortable now, aren’t you?” He grins, flipping me over, grabbing his belt, and laying it across me sharply, and I squeal. He takes me again, and this time, there was zero hesitation from me.