The Other Man (West Coast Hotwifing)
his pants pocket, then laid his palm on her thigh, the cool of hard plastic between them. “My room key. Use it. I’ve got another one. Go in and get naked for me. I want to walk in and find you in bed waiting.”
    He removed his hand, and she palmed the card key.
    “Naked,” he repeated. “On the bed.”
    She had everything she needed in her purse. Her pulse was racing as she left him. The elevator was packed and noisy, a group of partiers, drinks in their hands, heading back to someone’s room. Zoe clung to the back of the car. She was alone by the time she got to Spence’s floor. Part of her wished he’d accompanied her. She wanted his hands up her skirt, touching her as they made their way down the hall. But it was also incredibly sexy to imagine spreading herself out on his bed.
    Opening the door to his room, she walked out of her sandals in the short hallway. The bathroom light was on, and she stepped inside. She ran her fingers over the shaver he’d left on the counter. A kit lay open with toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, the usual stuff. The towels, though used since the maid had been in this morning, weren’t lying on the floor, but hung neatly. She didn’t know why she was looking, what difference it made, but she liked that he was tidy.
    Back in the hall, she tugged off her dress and tossed it on the carpet. She discarded her panties halfway to the bed.
    The condom package and lube weren’t in sight. He’d probably put them in a drawer so the maid didn’t freak out. Her camera and vibrator were in the bottom of her bag, and she set them on the side table, turning the lamp on. After pulling the comforter, blanket, and top sheet to the bottom of the bed, she left the phone within reach next to her. With a thick pillow beneath her head, she laid herself out for him.
    Then she had a moment of genius.
     
    * * * * *
     
    Her sandals lay on the carpet just inside the door. At the end of the short hall, her dress had been tossed aside. Spence flipped off the bathroom light. The room was bathed in shadows, though not completely dark. He detected a soft mechanical hum. Then a moan. He followed the siren call of her panties in the middle of the room.
    And his heart stalled in his chest. She lay on his bed, her skin tones dark against the white sheet, her hair fanned across the pillow, nipples peaked, beckoning. Her legs were spread wide, the vibrator buzzing. Eyes closed, she arched into the pillow and moaned.
    Christ. There were so many things he hadn’t done to that gorgeous body. So many things he wanted to do. He couldn’t tear his clothes off fast enough, tossing his polo shirt one way, fumbling at his belt, then the button of his slacks, until finally he was naked.
    “Dirty bitch starting without me,” he said, crawling onto the bed between her legs. Moisture pearled on the trimmed hair, her clit plump.
    “You were taking too long,” she groused in a sultry voice, then moaned again as the vibrator hit a sensitive spot.
    Even as she worked herself, he crawled over her, his cock grazing her fingers. He bent to a succulent nipple, sucked it between his lips. She gave a guttural growl of pleasure and held him to her breast with one hand. Then he shifted higher, took her lips, plundered her mouth.
    Pushing back into the pillow, she whispered dirty words for him. “Fuck me. Take me. Make me come.” Her breath chuffed as she spoke.
    “First I’m going to taste you.” He made his way back down her body, nipping the fragrant skin of her throat, suckling both nipples, licking her belly, until he nudged the vibrator aside and took her with his tongue.
    She arched and moaned, threaded her fingers through his hair to hold his head close between her thighs. Raising her knees, she rocked with every slip-slide of his tongue until she flopped against the mattress again and opened completely for him.
    “Yes, yes, lick me, suck me.” She chanted, gasped, moaned, drove him crazy with her sounds, her taste, the heat

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