Our Hotwives

Hi everyone! I decided to write the type of story I want to read- slow burn, character development, and realism.

Here's the premise: An attempt to fix their financial troubles ignites a chain of events that forces a picture-perfect couple to confront their deepest desires.

I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it!

---

It was a quiet Saturday morning in Austin, Texas. The late June sun had begun its relentless ascent, promising another day of crushing heat, but inside the Marshall residence, the air conditioning maintained a cool refuge from the sun's intensity.

Jessica Marshall made one final pass with the vacuum across the cream-colored rug and then clicked it off with a satisfied sigh. After hours of cleaning, organizing, and rearranging, the lower floor of their home finally looked polished and welcoming. What had once been a glorified storage space and a seldom-used guest room was now transformed into a comfortable apartment.

Jess stepped back, resting her hands on her hips, taking it all in. The room was simple but stylish. Muted beige tones on the walls created a warm atmosphere and light wooden accents added texture and depth. A plush, cream-colored rug lay beneath the coffee table and a potted plant with glossy leaves added life to a corner. The space felt cohesive and intentional, everything she'd designed it to be. It looked like something from one of her interior design portfolios, the kind of space she'd proudly show a client.

Jess, as always, was meticulous in her presentation, whether it was a room or herself. She turned heads wherever she went, and had the kind of curves that made men forget their names. Her beautiful face had even graced several modeling campaigns before she chose Interior Design as her profession. Even now, dressed in simple black leggings and a fitted dark blue T-shirt, there was a grace to her movements that couldn't be taught or practiced.

There was something else about her too, something harder to define. She possessed the ability to look insanely sexy without trying. It was an almost unconscious sensuality that radiated from her in the smallest gestures. It was the sway of her hips when she walked, the way she absentmindedly bit her lower lip while thinking, her slight frown of concentration, the curve of her smile, all a seemingly innocent combination that created something magnetic. She exuded pure, raw sexuality and moved through life with a natural allure.

Upstairs, she could hear Tom's voice, slightly muffled but still distinct, echoing through the house. He was on the phone, probably handling work calls even on a Saturday. Even after six years together, four of them married, his deep, steady voice still had the power to calm her nerves.

Tom was tall and lean, his body toned from years of dedicated running. His dark brown hair was always styled and his handsome face always clean-shaven. Tom was always well-groomed and always presentable. He was ambitious, reliable, steady, and in many ways, the perfect husband. He was always there when she needed him, never too demanding or confrontational. He handled life's problems with a level head, even when Jess felt like screaming in frustration.

Their differences complemented and balanced each other. He was more serious and structured. She was more spontaneous and passionate. They were the kind of couple others envied: attractive, intelligent, ambitious, and hardworking. Yet beneath the surface, subtle cracks were starting to form.

Jess and Tom had met in college through mutual friends, and their connection had been instant and electric. They fell deeply in love and married soon after graduation, certain they'd found their perfect match. That felt like a lifetime ago, their youthful optimism now tempered by the realities of adult life.

Today, financial strain weighed on them. Rising interest rates on their mortgage, car payments for both vehicles, and their goal of accumulating savings for a future baby were starting to suffocate them. But it wasn't just the mounting expenses that poked at Jess's peace of mind.

It was Tom's mistake, the cryptocurrency investment that still stung the most. Jess had been furious when he'd lost a significant portion of their savings in that ill-fated gamble, and even though she'd softened her stance outwardly over time, the anger had never truly gone away. It simmered underneath, a dull, ever-present resentment that flared up whenever she thought about their financial situation.

Her eyes moved to the clock on the wall, its hands approaching noon. Robert, their first prospect, would be arriving any minute. From his application, she knew Robert was a twice divorced, fifty-five-year-old man. He stood out from the other, younger applicants. Robert had been more forward during his phone conversation with Tom, mentioning how he could help around the house, fix things, and even upgrade their plumbing. It was a tempting proposition. After all, Tom wasn't exactly the handyman type, and Jess loved the idea of finally making some of the changes she'd been fantasizing about for their home.

"Jess?" Tom's voice floated down from upstairs. "Can you come up here?"

"Just finished," she called back, unplugging the vacuum. Her top clung to her curves as she stretched, working out the kinks in her lower back.

Upstairs, Tom was pacing their kitchen, phone pressed to his ear. He gave her a smile as she entered.

"Yes, Mr. Caldwell, we're definitely still on... No, that won't be a problem at all... Perfect, we'll see you soon." He ended the call and immediately pulled Jess into his arms. "You've been cleaning for hours, babe. Take a break."

"Can't." She squirmed away playfully. "We have tenants coming."

"The place already looks amazing," he assured her, reaching for her again. "And you look amazing."

Jess dodged his grasp with a laugh. "Tom! I'm all sweaty."

"I like you sweaty," he growled, finally catching her around the waist. His hands slid down to cup her ass through her leggings.

"Stop it," she giggled, even as she responded to his touch. "We don't have time for this."

"We always have time for this." He nuzzled her neck and Jess allowed herself to melt into him.

Then reality intruded. The doorbell chimed.

"Shit," Tom muttered, releasing her reluctantly. "That must be Robert. I didn't think he was that close."

Jess brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear and straightened her top, smoothing the fabric over her curves. "I'll get it. You finish up your work stuff."

Opening the door, Jess blinked in surprise, momentarily taken aback by the figure that filled her doorway. Robert Caldwell stood there wearing a faded blue T-shirt that clung a little too tightly over his belly and jeans that were slightly too baggy hanging low on his hips. He was bigger than she'd imagined, taller than Tom, and wider too. He was bald, and his face, with its stubble, had a rugged quality that showed his fifty-five years plainly.

"Afternoon," Robert greeted with a slight nod. "Jessica, right?"

"Yes, you can call me Jess," she confirmed, offering a bright, professional smile and extending her hand. The moment their palms met, she felt the roughness of his skin, calluses built up from years of manual labor. They were working hands, strong and capable, marking him as someone who spent his days building and fixing rather than typing at a keyboard. "And you must be Robert," she added.

"Call me Bob," he said, stepping past her into the foyer with casual confidence. He didn't waste time with pleasantries or small talk, instead he immediately began to assess his surroundings. His eyes moved methodically around the space, taking in the details of the house as if he were already planning improvements.

Jess was momentarily caught off-guard by his complete indifference to her presence. Men, especially new acquaintances, usually couldn't help but steal glances or even stare blatantly. They typically got flustered or stumbled over themselves around her, their words becoming awkward, their smiles too eager. It wasn't something she actively sought out, but she couldn't deny the satisfaction it brought her. But Bob barely seemed to notice her at all.

"So, this is the place," he said, turning to face her with an appraising look. His eyes weren't on her but on the crown molding above her head. "You've done a good job with it. Clean. Neat. Could use a few upgrades though."

Jess raised an eyebrow, slightly taken aback by his directness. "Upgrades?"

"Yeah," Bob said, nodding toward the ceiling. His arm extended upward, drawing her attention to the lighting. "See those lights? They're old, gonna start flickering soon. Probably need new wiring. And that door frame over there?" He gestured toward the entrance to one of the bedrooms. "Looks like it's shifted a bit. I could take care of that too, tighten things up. Same with the plumbing. If you've got older pipes, they're gonna need a good looking over. I could take care of all that."

Jess blinked, slightly overwhelmed by the flood of information and his assured manner of delivery. Bob's tone wasn't critical or condescending, just matter of fact, as if he were reading a list of simple tasks. She was used to clients pointing out things they wanted changed when she worked on interior design projects, but this was her home, and his immediate assessment of its flaws made her feel strangely defensive.

"That sounds... helpful," she said, trying to maintain her professional composure. "But why don't I show you the whole apartment first? I'm sure you'll want to see it before making any plans for improvements."

Bob gave a nod, seemingly satisfied with her response. As they moved through the apartment, he scanned each room with that same appraising eye. Jess watched as he moved around the space, running his hand along the walls, checking the door hinges, and even crouching down to look at the baseboards. He was thorough, methodical even. He moved through the space like he was already fixing it in his head.

In the bedroom, Bob gave the bed a little shake, testing its stability. "Gonna need something sturdier than this."

Jess felt her cheeks flush. "I'm sure we can arrange-"

"Hey there!" Tom's voice broke through as he bounded down the stairs. "Bob Caldwell? Tom Marshall. Sorry about earlier."

As the two men shook hands, Jess found herself glancing between them, taking in the stark physical contrast. Tom with his boyish good looks, lean runner's frame, and soft hands stood in sharp contrast against Bob's weathered appearance, broad shoulders, and rough hands. It was like looking at two different species of men, each representing opposite ends of some primal spectrum.

"Nice place you've got," Bob rumbled. "Needs some updates though."

"Oh?" Tom's eyebrows rose. "Like what?"

For the next twenty minutes, Bob led them on a meticulous tour of the apartment, pointing out issues that Tom and Jess had overlooked or hadn't considered significant.

"See these baseboards?" Bob crouched down, running a finger along the edge. "They're starting to separate from the wall. Easy fix, but if you leave it, moisture can get in."

Tom leaned in, intrigued. "I never would have noticed that."

Bob moved to the kitchen, opening and closing cabinet doors. "Hinges are loose here. And here." He pointed to barely visible gaps. "I can tighten those up, maybe replace a few."

In the bathroom, Bob turned on the faucet, watching the water flow. "Pressure's not bad, but I bet I could improve it. Probably some mineral buildup in the pipes.

Tom's eyes widened. "You can do that?"

"Sure," Bob nodded. "It's not complicated if you know what you're doing."

They moved to the electrical panel, where Bob explained the benefits of updating to a more modern system. "It'll be safer, more efficient. Could even save you money on your electric bill."

Throughout the tour, Tom peppered Bob with questions. Jess observed the interaction, noting how Tom was clearly impressed by the older man's breadth of knowledge.

Back in the living room, Bob's eyes swept the room one final time, taking in the details she'd so carefully arranged. "Nice layout. Feels private down here. I like that."

Jess nodded. "Yeah, that's what we were going for. It's got everything you need. Living room, two bedrooms, kitchen, bathroom. It's completely self-contained, so you have your own space."

"You two live upstairs?"

"Yes, that's right. Tom and I live on the second floor," Jess replied, walking over to the sliding glass door that led to the backyard. "You'd have access to the yard and the pool too. It's mostly private." she said, sliding the door open.

Bob followed them out where the pool shimmered under the midday sun. He surveyed the backyard with the same careful attention he'd given the interior, his eyes narrowing as he took in the small luxuries: the pool, the patio, the lounge chairs.

"Looks good," he said, giving her a nod. "Real good. You two did a nice job setting this up."

"Thank you," Jess replied, her tone a little more relaxed now. "Actually, I'm an interior designer, so I put a lot of thought into the space."

Bob raised an eyebrow, looking directly at her. "Interior designer, huh? So you provide the ideas, and I do all the hard work making it happen?"

"Exactly," she replied with a grin.

Bob smirked. "That's the way it's supposed to be. You handle the pretty stuff, and I'll handle the heavy lifting."

As they made their way back inside, Tom turned to Bob. "Do you have any questions, Bob?"

Bob paused for a moment. "I meant to ask, is there laundry?"

"Yes, there is," Jess answered. "It's beside the garage, just a few steps outside the unit. We'd share it, though, since it's the only one in the house."

"That works," Bob replied. "Better than lugging my laundry to a laundromat every weekend."

As they reached the front door, Tom gave Bob a quick smile. "If you think of any questions, feel free to call. We'll be in touch soon."

"Sounds good," Bob replied, shaking hands with the both of them. "Thanks for showing me around."

Once Bob left and the door clicked shut behind him, Tom turned to Jess with a grin and ran a hand through his hair. "What do you think?"

"He's..." Jess searched for the right word. "Intense."

"But helpful, right? All those repairs he mentioned... sounds like he knows what he's doing."

"Tom." She placed a hand on his arm. "Are you sure about this? Having someone like him living downstairs?"

"Someone like him?" Tom's eyes gleamed with something she couldn't quite read. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing," she said finally. "Just... he's different from what I expected."

Tom laughed, patting her shoulder reassuringly. "Come on, babe. He's just a harmless old man. Trying to impress us with all that handyman stuff. It's not like he's gonna take over the house or something."

Jess almost laughed at Tom's naivety. "Harmless old man?" Jess thought. There was nothing harmless about Bob. Everything from his broad shoulders to his subtle knowing smirk suggested a man who took what he wanted. The thought made her nervous but she didn't push the subject. Tom saw what he wanted to see. But Bob would be helpful, no doubt about that.

"Yeah, well, we'll talk about it later," she said. "We have other people to consider too."

Tom nodded, though his expression remained thoughtful. "Yeah. I'm going to go make a few more calls, see if any other applicants are worth looking at." He headed back upstairs, leaving Jess alone with her thoughts.

Jess walked back into the apartment, surveying the space one more time. It felt different now, as if Bob's presence had somehow changed it. His assessment of all its flaws had stripped away some of the polish she'd worked so hard to create. She could see what he meant about the lights, the door frame, all the little imperfections she'd overlooked in favor of aesthetics.

---

The weekend had been a blur of unfamiliar faces and forced smiles as Tom and Jess played host to a seemingly endless parade of potential tenants. Each showing blended into the next, their home invaded by strangers who poked and prodded at every corner. By Sunday evening, they had a stack of applications on their dining room table and the both of them were drained. They still hadn't reached a consensus on their future tenant though Bob's assessment of their home's flaws lingered in both of their minds.

Monday morning arrived with its usual subtle cruelty. Tom's Apple Watch vibrated against his wrist, the gentle buzz pulling him from dreams he couldn't quite remember. Beside him, Jess slept peacefully, wrapped in Egyptian cotton sheets, a splurge from better times.

Her blonde hair spilled across the pillow, and even in sleep she radiated a sensuality that both thrilled and terrified him. The gentle rise and fall of her breasts beneath the thin fabric and the way one leg had escaped the covers to reveal a stretch of tanned thigh took his breath away. She stirred slightly at his movement but didn't wake, instead shifting to expose more of her flawless skin.

As Tom gazed at Jess's sleeping form, his cock hardened involuntarily. He imagined other men seeing her like this, their eyes roving hungrily over her curves, their hands aching to touch. The image of a faceless stranger's fingers tracing the outline of Jess's nipple through the sheet sent a jolt through his body. The confusing mix of arousal and anxiety coursed through him, his stomach knotting with insecurity even as his cock strained against his boxers.

He had a nagging fear that he wasn't enough for someone of Jess's caliber, that he wasn't truly worthy of such a goddess. What if she realized she could have any man she wanted? It was this very anxiety that propelled Tom out of bed each morning, driving him to work longer hours and push himself harder. He had to prove, both to Jess and to himself, that he deserved to be by her side. With renewed determination, Tom steeled himself for another grueling day at the office, reminding himself that every extra hour, every difficult client, was a step towards securing the life Jess deserved.

With practiced stealth, Tom slipped from their bed, the hardwood floors feeling cool against his feet. He tossed his shirt over the plush oversized armchair in the corner of the room, its burgundy velvet surface already laden with yesterday's discarded outfit, before making his way to the master bathroom. Standing in front of the mirror, he ran his electric shaver over his stubble. A quick three-minute shower followed before he dried off with a fluffy towel. The familiar routine played out as it always did: bathroom, dress, breakfast, departure.

His wardrobe choice was the same predictable business casual attire he wore most days; dark chinos, a button-down shirt, and his signature brown leather oxfords. He could almost hear Jess's playful criticism of his conservative style choices. 'You dress like a congressional intern,' she'd tease, her fingers often toying with one of his shirt buttons. 'Would it kill you to wear something different? Maybe even roll up those sleeves and show off those forearms?' Tom would respond with his usual chuckle and a noncommittal promise to 'think about it,' both of them knowing full well that tomorrow would bring another variation of the same outfit.

The morning commute crawled along Austin's increasingly congested highways while talk radio murmured about tech stocks and housing markets, each word hammering home his financial predicament. Tom's fingers drummed against the leather steering wheel of his Lexus IS, a car that now felt more like a burden than anything.

His mind drifted to the stack of rental applications on their dining room table. The extra two thousand a month would help patch the hole his crypto disaster had torn in their savings, but it felt like an admission of failure, a declaration that he couldn't provide for Jess the way she deserved. Every application was a reminder that their dreams of starting a family were suspended, that the nursery they'd planned was now destined to become a stranger's bedroom.

The office was already buzzing with activity by the time Tom arrived. A chorus of keyboard clicks and phone conversations filled the air as he made his way to his desk, balancing his leather briefcase and a fresh cup of coffee from the break room. He settled into his ergonomic chair, one of the luxuries the company provided.

As a Management Consultant at Davis & Associates, Tom's days were filled with analyzing business processes and streamlining operations. His current project was with Meridian Healthcare, a large regional healthcare provider struggling with outdated systems and inefficient processes. The company was in the midst of a massive transition to a new Enterprise Resource Planning system, a change that would affect every aspect of their operations from patient care to billing.

"Morning, sunshine," a familiar voice called out. "You look like you could use another coffee."

Tom looked up to see Miles, his friend and fellow consultant, leaning against his desk with his characteristic easy smile. Miles was about Tom's age, and they'd been hired around the same time, which had quickly led to a friendship that made the long hours at work more bearable. Where Tom was reserved and analytical, Miles was outgoing and quick with a joke.

"Morning," Tom replied, leaning back in his chair. "Tenant interviews. Ever spend two days watching strangers judge your house while pretending they're not?"

"Sounds like my mother-in-law," Miles chuckled. "Any prospects?"

"A few. Jess and I can't seem to agree on anyone though."

"Women," Miles shook his head exaggeratedly. "They actually care about who lives in their house. Crazy, right?"

"Tell me about it. One guy, this retired tradesman, pointed out everything wrong with the place. Jess wasn't thrilled, but he knows his stuff."

"Speaking of things that need fixing, did you catch the Cowboys game last night? Defense was a mess."

Tom shook his head. "Missed it. I was showing the apartment all weekend."

"Well, you didn't miss much. Just another classic Cowboys choke." Miles leaned against Tom's desk. "Though there was this one play in the fourth-"

Tom's phone buzzed with a meeting reminder. "Meridian call in five. Tell me about their epic failure at lunch?"

"Sure thing, bud. Your treat since you bailed on our watch party."

"Dream on," Tom laughed, already pulling up his meeting notes.

The day started with a series of virtual meetings with Meridian's leadership team, their faces arranged in a grid on Tom's laptop screen as he sat at the conference room table surrounded by his project team. Meridian's CEO, a stern-faced woman in her fifties, Linda Maxwell, praised their latest presentation. "Impressive work, team, but we need faster solutions. Our staff is drowning in paperwork, and patient care is suffering."

As his team fielded questions from Meridian's executives, Tom found himself drawn to the challenge. The complexity of the project, the high stakes, the need to balance speed with accuracy, it all combined to create a puzzle that engaged his analytical mind.

In quiet moments between meetings, Tom's mind wandered to the early days with Jess. They'd met at a party in their college years. He remembered being struck by her confidence, the way she commanded attention without seeking it. She'd worn a simple black dress that night, her blonde hair in a loose bun. She was gesturing animatedly as she talked to her friends across the room. Tom had stood on the periphery, nursing a glass of mediocre wine, until fate, or more precisely, his friend Brandon, had pushed them together.

"Hey," Miles' voice pulled him from his memories. "Earth to Tom. You planning to hibernate at your desk, or are we still on for lunch?"

Tom glanced at his watch, surprised to see that it was already past noon. "Yeah, sorry. Davis wants to see me first, though."

James Davis' office occupied the corner of the building with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a privileged view of downtown Austin. The man himself sat behind his imposing desk, reading glasses perched on his nose as he reviewed their latest project proposals. Davis had been running the consulting firm for over two decades, his reputation for being both brilliant and demanding well-earned.

"Tom," Davis looked up, gesturing to one of the leather chairs across from his desk. "Have a seat. Meridian is impressed with the team's work."

Tom settled into the chair, noting how the leather creaked expensively beneath him. "It's more complicated than we initially anticipated. Their legacy systems are deeply cemented, and the data migration is challenging."

"And that's exactly why they need us," Davis removed his glasses, placing them carefully on his desk. "I've been watching you closely these past months, Tom. Your attention to detail, the way you handle client relationships, it's exactly what we need more of here."

Davis leaned forward. "We're looking to expand our reach. Several companies in California, Colorado, and New York have approached us. They want fast-track implementations like Meridian, and I need someone who can deliver. I'm putting you up for Senior Consultant."

Tom's mind raced with possibilities. The money would help ease their financial strain, possibly even allow them to start the family Jess desperately wanted. But the travel, the hours...

"Before you worry," Davis continued, reading Tom's expression, "this isn't a relocation offer. You'd stay based here in Austin. But there would be travel involved, week-long trips, sometimes two. The compensation bump reflects that commitment."

Tom felt relief wash over him. With a raise, they could rebuild their savings in months instead of years. Maybe they wouldn't even need a tenant for more than a year.

"Thank you, sir," Tom said, unable to contain his smile. "This is... this is exactly what I needed. When do we start?"

Davis returned the smile, clearly pleased with Tom's enthusiasm. "Get through the Meridian implementation first. Show me what you can do there, and we'll fast-track everything else."

"I won't let you down, Mr. Davis."

"I know you won't, Tom. That's why you're getting this opportunity."

As Tom walked back to his desk, his steps felt lighter than they had in months. Finally, a real chance to fix everything.

The walk to Whole Foods with Miles provided a welcome break from the office's recycled air. Austin's summer heat hit them like a wall as they stepped outside. "Jesus Christ," Miles groaned, dramatically wiping his forehead. "I swear, one of these days I'm going to melt into a puddle of sweat and overpriced cologne. They'll have to scrape me off the sidewalk with a spatula."

Tom chuckled. "Maybe then you'd finally lose those love handles you've been complaining about."

"Hey now," Miles patted his stomach. "These aren't love handles. They're tactical fat reserves for when the apocalypse hits and we're all fighting over the last Twinkie."

Tom laughed. "Keep telling yourself that."

Miles's expression turned slightly more serious as they crossed the street. "So what's the story with Meridian?"

"Their current systems are a mess," Tom replied as they entered Whole Foods' blessed air conditioning. "Decades-old software, incompatible databases, paper records in some departments. We're basically rebuilding their entire infrastructure while they're still trying to run a hospital."

They grabbed chicken salads and joined the lunch crowd of tech workers and yoga enthusiasts. "The CEO's desperate," Tom continued. "Patient care is suffering, billing is a nightmare, and staff morale is low. We're racing against the clock to get the new ERP system up and running before things fall apart."

"Sounds like a clusterfuck," Miles said between bites. "How's the team handling it?"

"Dani's about ready to quit. The client keeps changing requirements mid-sprint, and Kevin's working weekends just to keep up with documentation."

Miles leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Word is Davis is eyeing you for Senior Consultant over this project. That true?"

Tom stabbed a cherry tomato with his fork. "Maybe. He mentioned something about it today."

"But?" Miles prodded, knowing his friend well enough to hear the hesitation.

"But it means more travel. Longer hours." Tom sighed. "Jess and I... we're trying to start a family. Or we were, before the crypto thing."

"Ah." Miles nodded knowingly. "The famous Marshall crypto disaster. How's she handling that these days?"

"Still comes up whenever we discuss finances." Tom stabbed at his salad. "We're renting out our unit to help cover the mortgage."

"Damn. That's rough." Miles paused. "Though I gotta say, if I had a wife who looked like Jess, I'd be working every angle too. No offense, but she's way out of your league, buddy."

Tom forced a laugh, but Miles's words hit too close to his private fears. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Hey, I just call it like I see it. Remember that Christmas party where she wore that red dress? She looked like a god damn supermodel. Half the office couldn't string two words together."

The rest of lunch passed with lighter conversation about safer topics like sports scores and office gossip, but Miles's casual observation about Jess lingered in Tom's mind long after they returned to the office.

Back at his desk, Tom pulled out his phone, his thumb hovering over the screen for a moment before typing out a quick message to Jess: "Need to decide on the tenant tonight. Love you."

The three dots quickly appeared before her response came through: "Love you too. Come home early?"

Tom glanced at his calendar, at the meetings he could probably reschedule. "I'll try," he promised, and he meant it.

Tom found himself struggling to focus on the afternoon's tasks. He opened his browser and pulled up their online banking statement, a habit he'd developed since the crypto investment went south. Gone were the spontaneous weekend getaways, the fancy dinners where Jess would order whatever caught her eye, the casual shopping trips where she'd model outfits for him at Nordstrom. Now every purchase required careful consideration. He clicked through their monthly expenses, wincing at each automatic withdrawal. The mortgage payment loomed largest, followed by both car payments, his Lexus and her Tesla, symbols of their former prosperity that now felt like golden handcuffs. Their lifestyle, while modest by Austin's tech crowd standards, had been built on the assumption of continued growth, not sudden loss.

The crypto disaster hadn't just been about losing money. It had been about losing Jess's trust. He remembered the night he'd finally told her, how she'd sat perfectly still on their couch, her face blank as he explained how their savings had evaporated. She hadn't yelled or cried. Instead, she'd simply asked, "Why didn't you talk to me first?" That question had hung between them ever since.

The memory of her expression that night still haunted him. It was the way her usual warmth had frozen over, how her body had subtly shifted away from his reaching hand. It was the first time he'd seen her look at him with something close to contempt, as if suddenly realizing that he wasn't the man she thought she'd married. In that moment, he'd felt the ground shift beneath their marriage, creating hairline fractures that still hadn't fully healed. Their dreams of starting a family, of moving to a bigger house, of Jess finally opening her own interior design studio, all of it suspended in limbo because he'd gambled their future without consulting her.

Tom found himself checking the time more frequently, his mind drifting to Jess at home. At five o'clock, he began packing his things, his movements hurried yet precise, like a man trying not to seem too eager to escape.

The drive home was unusually quick, traffic cooperative for once. As he pulled into their driveway, warm golden light spilled from the upstairs windows, promising comfort.

He sat in his car for a moment, studying the home they'd bought with such optimism three years ago. Back then, they'd spent weekends choosing paint colors and arguing playfully about furniture placement. They'd christened every room with passionate lovemaking, marking their territory like newlyweds drunk on possibility. Now the bottom floor loomed dark and empty, waiting for a stranger to claim it. Taking a deep breath, Tom grabbed his briefcase and headed toward the front door.

---

An hour later they were finally sitting down to decide on a tenant. With the move-in date set for the coming weekend, postponing wasn't an option anymore.

The dining room's pendant light cast a warm glow across the crystal wine glasses they'd received as wedding presents, unused except for these makeshift business meetings they now called dinner. Jess pushed a piece of chicken around her plate, her movements distracted. The food was getting cold, but her appetite had disappeared somewhere between reviewing applications and watching the increasingly exhausted expression on Tom's face.

Across the table, Tom was hunched over his laptop, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he responded to work emails. The blue light from the screen cast harsh shadows across his face, deepening the circles under his eyes. Beside the laptop lay a stack of tenant applications, which he glanced at intermittently.

Their eyes met across the table as Tom reached for his wine glass. For a brief moment, Jess saw a flicker of the playful man who used to steal her phone during dinner just to make her pay attention to him. She opened her mouth to remind him of that habit, but his laptop chimed with another notification, and the moment evaporated.

"The chicken's going to turn to rubber if you keep pushing it around like that," Tom said, his eyes flicking between his screen and her plate.

Jess managed a small laugh. "Sorry. Just thinking."

"About?"

"About us," she said. "About how different things are now."

Tom's fingers paused over the keyboard and he looked up at her. "Different how?"

"Remember when we used to actually talk during dinner? Not about bills or work or tenants, but about... anything else?" She set down her fork, the metal clicking against the ceramic plate. "When was the last time we just sat and enjoyed a meal together without your laptop as a third wheel?"

Tom partially closed his laptop screen, as if making a concession to her need for connection. "Babe, I know things have been tough lately. But once we get a tenant, it'll help with the financial pressure. We'll have more breathing room."

It wasn't his fault, she reminded herself. They were working towards something bigger, a dream of a secure life, a beautiful house, maybe even starting a family soon. Jess knew that Tom wanted all those things, too, and his constant work was proof that he was committed to that dream. But when had they gotten so serious? She couldn't remember the last time they'd shared a genuine laugh over dinner, just the two of them.

Her heart also ached at the thought of children. At twenty-seven, Jess felt like she was in her prime. She was healthy, strong, and at the perfect age for motherhood. This space was meant for their family, a place for dreams and future memories, not a solution to their debt problems. It was a bitter pill to swallow, this feeling of being trapped by circumstance.

Jess nodded, her eyes drifting to the stack of applications. "Speaking of tenants, we should probably go through these."

"Right," Tom said, pulling the stack closer. He picked up the first application. "Okay, so we've got Alexis Baker. Thirty-eight, works as a nurse."

Jess leaned forward, interested. "A nurse could be good. Stable job, probably keeps regular hours."

Tom nodded, but his brow furrowed as he read further. "Says here she works night shifts, though. That could mean she'd be coming and going at odd hours. Might be disruptive."

"I hadn't thought of that," Jess admitted. She took a sip of her wine, considering. "Who's next?"

Tom set the application aside and picked up another. "Mark and Lisa Tanner. Both thirty-two, no kids. He's an accountant, she's a teacher."

"They seemed nice when we met them," Jess said, remembering the couple's visit. "Very polite, asked good questions about the neighborhood."

"True," Tom agreed, "but remember how they mentioned wanting to start a family soon? If they have a newborn baby, that's going to mean a lot more noise. And they might want to move to a bigger place sooner than we'd like."

Jess sighed, realizing he had a point. She reached for another application. "What about this one? Toby Ortiz?"

Tom glanced at his laptop screen, then back to the application. "Right, the grad student. Twenty-five, studying engineering."

"He was very enthusiastic about the place," Jess recalled. "Said he loved how close it was to campus."

"Yeah, but grad students aren't known for their financial stability," Tom pointed out. "And his lease would only be for the academic year. We'd be back to square one in a few months."

As they continued to discuss the applicants, Tom's attention kept drifting back to his laptop. He'd pause mid-sentence to type out a quick reply or check an incoming notification. Jess found herself growing increasingly frustrated, both with the tenant options and with Tom's divided attention.

"What about Jason and Claire?" Jess asked, remembering the young couple. "They seemed nice. Young, friendly. They reminded me a bit of us when we first moved in together." She smiled at the memory.

Tom glanced up from his screen. "Nice, sure," he said. "But they also mentioned they had a dog. That's gonna be a problem with the hardwood floors downstairs. Plus, I got the sense they were looking for something more temporary. They seemed like the kind of people who'd break the lease early if they found something better."

"You don't know that for sure," Jess countered. "Sometimes young doesn't mean unreliable."

"No, but it often means unpredictable. We can't afford unpredictable right now, Jess." Tom's attention was pulled back to his laptop as a new notification pinged.

Jess frowned, watching as Tom's focus shifted once again to his work. "What about that photographer?" she asked, trying to pull Tom back to the task at hand. "The one who wanted to use the space as a studio?"

Tom looked up. "Oh, right. Yeah, I'm not comfortable with strangers coming in and out all the time. It's supposed to be a rental, not a business."

"The portfolio he showed us was beautiful though," Jess said, remembering the striking black and white portraits. "Very artistic."

"Beautiful doesn't pay the mortgage," Tom replied, then winced at his own tone. "Sorry, that came out harsh. I just mean we need something stable." He turned back to his laptop, frowning at something on the screen.

Jess sighed, pushing her plate away. "So who does that leave us with?"

Tom's eyes softened as he looked up at her from the screen, and she caught a glimpse of the man she'd fallen in love with, the one who used to look at her like she was the only person in the room. "Honestly, Bob seems like the best option. He's older, so he's probably not going to be throwing any wild parties or anything. He looks like the type to go to bed at nine and wake up at five. Plus, he can fix things around the house. That alone could save us some money in the long run."

Jess bit her lip, contemplating his words. Her mind flashed back to Bob's large, rough hands gripping hers when they first met. He wasn't like Tom. There was nothing polished about him, nothing smooth or carefully maintained. Everything about him was raw and unrefined, from his calloused palms to his direct gaze that seemed to cut through all pretenses.

"I don't know," she said slowly, tracing the rim of her wine glass. "He's a bit... intense. Did you notice how he kept talking about all the changes he wanted to make? It's like he was already planning to move in before we'd even decided."

Tom shrugged, finally setting the laptop aside and taking a bite of his now-cold food. "Maybe, but I don't think we can afford to be picky right now. We need the extra income, babe. The bills aren't going anywhere, and with the interest rates going up..." He trailed off, but the implication was clear.

The weight of their financial situation pressed down on her again; increased mortgage payments, car payments, credit card bills that seemed to grow no matter how much they paid off each month, and the lack of savings for their future child. Tom was right. They couldn't afford to wait. They needed the money, and Bob was offering more than just rent. His skills as a handyman could help them in the long term.

"Okay," she said finally, her voice quiet but firm. "Let's go with Bob."

Tom gave her a small, relieved smile, reaching out to squeeze her hand across the table. His palm was warm against hers, and for a moment, she wanted to hold on, to pull him closer. "Good call, babe. This will help us out a lot. I'll call him tomorrow and let him know."

Jess returned the smile. She let her fingers linger in Tom's for a moment before pulling away. The decision was made, but as she looked around their dining room, at the carefully chosen decor and the life they'd built together, she couldn't shake the feeling that they were about to invite something unpredictable into their ordered world.

"I should probably clean up," she said, standing and gathering their plates. The sound of ceramic clicking against ceramic filled the silence that had settled between them once again.

"I'll help," Tom offered, but she waved him off, knowing he needed to return to his endless stream of emails.

"No, you finish your work. I know they're waiting." She moved toward the kitchen, leaving him with his laptop, the blue glow once again illuminating his features.

After cleanup, they settled into their evening routines. Tom disappeared into his home office, the glow of his monitors spilling into the hallway.

In the master bathroom, she took her time with her evening routine. She could hear his muffled voice through the wall as she moisturized her face, catching fragments of "project timeline" and "implementation schedule." In their early days, he would have joined her, sitting on the edge of the tub and telling her about his day while she went through her skincare routine. Now the bathroom felt too large, too empty.

Afterwards, she curled up in bed with her iPad, scrolling through interior design blogs while half-watching a Netflix show.

Around midnight, Tom finally emerged from his office, his shirt wrinkled and hair messy from running his fingers through it in frustration. Their eyes met across the room, another moment of wordless communication. She understood his apologetic look and he read the forgiveness in her slight smile.

In bed, Tom reached for her, his hand finding hers in the darkness. The gesture spoke volumes, apology, love, reassurance all wrapped in a simple touch.

"Night, babe," he murmured, already drifting off.

"Night," she whispered back, listening as his breathing evened out into sleep.

---

Later that week, Jess woke up to an empty bed, the sheets still slightly warm where Tom had slept beside her. As usual, he was gone by the time she got up, his morning routine starting before hers. She stretched lazily, her silk pajama top riding up slightly to reveal a strip of toned midriff, a testament to her dedication to staying fit through a mix of hot yoga, Pilates, and strength training. She then opened the curtains to let the sunlight brighten up their master bedroom.

The master bathroom became her stage as Jess prepared for the day ahead. Steam from her shower lingered in the air, fogging the mirrors as she went through her morning routine. She had mastered the art of looking effortlessly put-together, a skill that served her well in an industry where appearance and confidence went hand in hand.

After the shower, she walked across the plush carpet to their walk-in closet, a space that had been one of the main selling points when they bought the house.

As she opened the doors, the automatic lights flickered on, illuminating a treasure trove of fashion. Rows of designer clothes told the story of her evolution from college graduate to successful professional. One section had her power clothes, consisting of tailored suits and silk blouses that commanded respect in client meetings. Another had her more casual wear for site visits and weekend brunches with Madi. Jess ran her fingers along the fabrics, enjoying the different textures like the slip of silk, the weight of wool, the softness of cashmere.

At the back of the closet, behind a frosted glass door, lay her lingerie collection. Delicate pieces from La Perla and Agent Provocateur that Tom had gifted her hung alongside racier pieces she'd bought herself. There were lacy bras in jewel tones, sheer teddies, garter belts, and thongs that were more string than fabric, all reminders of a more adventurous time. These days, the practical nude bras and cotton panties in the drawer below got more regular use.

Today, Jess chose a matching set of black lace underwear. Even if no one else saw it, wearing something sexy underneath her work clothes always gave her an extra boost of confidence. She then chose her outfit with deliberate care, going with a cream silk blouse that had a neckline revealing just enough to be professional yet intriguing. She paired it with tailored charcoal trousers that clung to her ass in a way that made her feel powerful. She added a few accessories that were simple yet elegant: a delicate necklace drawing attention to her collarbone, small hoop earrings that caught the light, and of course her wedding ring.

She tousled her blonde hair, giving it that mix of purposeful and effortless, and then gave herself one last check in the mirror. Her mother's voice echoed in her head: "Dress for the clients you want, not the ones you have." The woman in the mirror looked back at her with knowing eyes, a creature of carefully crafted allure wrapped in a veneer of professional polish. Yet beneath that polished exterior lurked something wilder, something that had been sleeping too long.

She looked at the clock. There was definitely enough time to meet Madi for their standing coffee date.

Flexibility was one of the things she loved about her work as an interior designer. She could work from home or at the office, or drive around the city for client meetings and site visits. The creative freedom of her job was something Jess cherished, especially now when everything else felt so constrained. It contrasted sharply with the rigid, exhausting demands of Tom's work schedule.

The drive gave Jess time to think, the seats of her Tesla Model 3 cradling her shapely ass as she navigated through Austin's morning traffic.

The familiar scent of coffee and fresh pastries enveloped Jess as she entered Café Luna, spotting Madi already settled at their usual corner table. Her friend exuded the confident sexuality of a woman who knew exactly what she wanted, who took pleasure without apology. Watching Madi's uninhibited sensuality made Jess increasingly aware of how much of herself she'd locked away in pursuit of being the perfect wife.

"There's my gorgeous girl," Madi called out with a smile. She wore a white top that emphasized her tanned skin and designer jeans that probably cost more than most people's monthly rent. Madi's entire outfit screamed 'look at me' and Jess found herself doing just that.

As Jess settled into her chair across from Madi, a young barista approached their table, his eyes widening slightly as he took in the sight of the two beautiful women. His name tag read "Alex", and Jess could practically feel the heat of his gaze as it lingered on her silk blouse.

"Welcome back ladies," he managed, his voice cracking slightly. "The usual?"

Madi's smirk spoke volumes as she watched his gaze drift back to Jess. "Please," she purred. "Oat milk latte for me."

"Just black coffee," Jess added, pretending not to notice his attention towards her.

"Coming right up," he stammered, nearly tripping over his own feet as he retreated to the safety of the counter.

Both women watched him go, Madi openly admiring the way his ass filled out his uniform pants. "I swear," Madi giggled once Alex was out of earshot, "if that boy stared any harder at your tits, he might have burned a hole through your blouse. Not that I can blame him."

Jess felt her cheeks warm. "Madi!" she hissed, rolling her eyes, glancing around to make sure no one had overheard.

Madi smiled and leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with that familiar conspiratorial gleam. "So," she began. "How's life in landlord land? Did you guys pick a tenant yet?"

Jess nodded, unconsciously biting her lower lip as she thought about their new tenant. "Yeah, we did. His name's Bob. He's an older guy, twice divorced, a retired contractor. He's moving in this weekend." She tried to keep her tone neutral, but something in her voice must have given her away.

Madi raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow, her smile widening as if she'd just heard something juicy. "Older guy? Divorcee? Sounds like a plot twist waiting to happen." She wiggled her eyebrows playfully, clearly enjoying the idea of some drama unfolding. "Please tell me he's a silver fox. You know, like that actor in that movie we watched last month. What was his name? The one with the salt and pepper beard?"

Jess laughed, shaking her head in amusement. "Oh, stop. You've been watching too many of those streaming shows. He's not quite the 'silver fox' type. He's more... rough around the edges, but he's going to help us with repairs. Tom thinks he's the best option. You know, someone who can help fix things up without charging us for every little repair."

"Ooh, rough around the edges?" Madi leaned forward, her smile mischievous. "The good kind or the 'call the cops' kind?"

Jess laughed again. "It's not like that. He's just... direct. Confident. The way he walked through our house, pointing out everything that needed fixing... it was like he already owned the place."

"Sounds like someone needs to remind him who the landlady is," Madi teased, but her expression grew serious as she studied Jess's face.

The conversation paused as Alex returned, balancing their drinks on a black tray. His movements were careful, but his eyes still couldn't help but wander back to Jess's blouse as he placed their orders on the table. "Can I get you ladies anything else?" he asked.

"We're good, thanks Alex," Madi purred, her smile making the young barista blush deeper before he retreated. She watched him go with amused eyes before turning back to Jess. "That poor boy. You really should be more careful with those blouses of yours. I swear he almost spilled our drinks when you moved."

Jess rolled her eyes, though a small smile played at the corners of her mouth. The power she held over men like Alex both thrilled and unsettled her lately. She couldn't remember the last time Tom's gaze lingered on her like that.

"So, what's really bothering you? Come on, spill. What's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

Jess hesitated, her fingers still playing with the spoon in her cup. The ceramic clinked softly against the sides as she stirred, creating a tiny whirlpool in her coffee. "I'm just... I don't know. Things have been weird lately. With Tom, I mean." She could feel her chest tighten as she admitted it, the words feeling somehow more real now that they were spoken aloud. Talking about her marriage in anything less than glowing terms wasn't something she did lightly. But if there was anyone she could be honest with, it was Madi.

Madi's expression softened instantly, her playful demeanor giving way to genuine concern. She reached across the table, her manicured fingers wrapping around Jess's wrist. "Weird how?" she asked gently, giving Jess her full attention. The background noise of the café seemed to fade away as Madi fixed her with that understanding look that had gotten Jess through countless crises over the years.

Jess sighed, glancing out the café window as she gathered her thoughts. Outside, people rushed by with their morning commutes, wrapped up in their own lives and problems. "Things with Tom are... different," Jess said, still stirring her coffee. "Remember how we used to have sex everywhere in the house? Now he barely looks up from his laptop." She smiled wryly. "Though I caught him checking me out in the shower last week. He actually dropped his phone when I 'accidentally' dropped my loofah, so there's hope."

"Oh? Do tell."

"Nothing happened. He had a meeting." Jess laughed. "But at least I know he still notices." Jess adjusted her blouse, remembering how the young barista's eyes had lingered. "You know what's weird? I kind of miss how possessive Tom used to be. Remember that time at Brandon's party when that guy wouldn't stop hitting on me? Tom practically dragged me to the bathroom and bent me over the sink."

"I could hear you moaning through the door! Brandon still brings it up sometimes, you know. Says it was the hottest thing he's ever heard."

Jess felt her cheeks flush. "He does not!"

"Oh honey, he absolutely does. Usually late at night after a few drinks," Madi winked. "Speaking of Brandon, have you noticed how he looks at you? Like he's imagining recreating that bathroom scene himself."

"Madi!" Jess hissed, but she couldn't help but laugh. "You're terrible. Besides, I thought that whole thing with you and Brandon was over."

"Oh sweetie," Madi leaned forward with a flirty smile. "It's never really over with Brandon. Trust me, I know. That man is like fine wine, gets better with age. And that cock of his..." She bit her lip. "It's just pure pleasure. God, the way he'd stretch me out... I still have dreams about it. And don't even get me started on what he can do with his tongue. Best sex of my life, hands down."

"Oh my god, Madi!" Jess felt her face grow hot, remembering all the explicit details Madi had shared about her encounters with Brandon over the years. It wasn't the first time Madi had raved about Brandon's sexual prowess, and each time the stories seemed to get more detailed.

"I'm just saying, maybe Tom needs a little competition to wake him up. Remember how crazy it used to drive him when guys would hit on you?" Madi's eyes gleamed. "And now you've got this rough handyman moving in downstairs... plus Brandon always sniffing around..."

"Stop it," Jess giggled. "Besides, Tom's just stressed with work."

"Then unstress him! Send him some naughty pictures during those boring meetings of his. Wear that red lingerie set I made you buy."

"The one that's basically just strings?"

"That's the one! Trust me, one peek at you in that and his laptop won't stand a chance."

Jess's smile faded slightly as she traced the rim of her coffee cup. "I shouldn't have to try so hard though, you know? It used to be effortless between us."

"What changed?"

"Life, I guess. Work. Bills. The crypto thing." Jess shrugged. "Though lately... I don't know. Something's shifting. Remember how Tom used to surprise me with little things?" she continued. "Weekend trips, random flowers, even just bringing home my favorite takeout when I had a rough day? Now it's all about work and bills and being responsible. I get it, we're adults, but..." She trailed off, not sure how to finish the thought.

Madi tilted her head, her brow furrowing as she processed Jess's words. "That's tough," she said, her voice filled with empathy. "But that happens in relationships, you know? The whole drifting apart thing. You two have been through a lot. It doesn't mean it's broken, but it sounds like you two need to find your spark again. When was the last time you two did something just for fun? And I mean real fun, not Netflix and chill on the couch."

Jess nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I've thought about that. I want to try, but everything else feels like it's getting in the way. The money, the bills, and now with Bob moving in, it feels like there's even less space for Tom and me. Like we're constantly having to deal with things instead of focusing on us". She paused, biting her lower lip. "And honestly? Sometimes I wonder if Tom even notices that anything's wrong."

Madi sipped her coffee thoughtfully before leaning forward, a sympathetic look in her eyes. "Have you talked to him about it? Like, really talked. Not just hinting at things, but actually telling him what you're feeling? Men can be dense sometimes; they need things spelled out." She smirked. "Trust me, I've had to draw diagrams for some of the guys I've dated."

Jess shook her head, a smile playing on her lips despite the seriousness of the conversation. "Not really," she admitted. "He's just so stressed with work. He's working more hours than ever, and when he's home, he's either on his laptop or too tired to do anything. I don't want to add to his stress. And besides, I don't even know what to say. I can't exactly explain what's wrong because I'm not sure myself. How do you tell someone you miss them when they're right there?"

"Jess, you have to talk to him," Madi insisted. "If something's bothering you, he needs to know. Otherwise, it's just going to keep building up, and before you know it, there's this huge wall between you two. Trust me, I've seen it happen too many times. Remember Lisa and Mike?"

Jess nodded, remembering their friends' messy divorce last year. The thought sent a chill down her spine. She knew Madi was right, but the idea of bringing it up with Tom filled her with dread. How could she tell him that she was feeling restless, that she craved something more, without making him feel like he wasn't enough? She didn't want to hurt him, but she also couldn't deny that something had changed between them.

Before Jess could respond, her phone buzzed, reminding her of the time. It was a notification for her big meeting. "You're right Madi. But anyways, I've got to run today," she said, gathering her things. "I have a big meeting today at 11."

Madi finished her drink and stood, pulling Jess in for a quick hug. "Well, go crush your meeting. And Jess?" She pulled back, holding Jess by the shoulders and looking her in the eye. "Don't keep everything bottled up. Remember, walls don't just keep people out. Sometimes, they keep you locked in, too... well unless they're walls you're being pressed against by your lover."

Jess laughed and nodded, hugging Madi tightly, grateful for her friend's wisdom. As she walked to her car, Madi's advice echoed in her mind. Talk to Tom. It sounded so simple, but it felt like the hardest thing in the world right now.

---

Jess's Tesla Model 3 cut through Austin's late morning traffic as she headed towards the office. Café Luna had been a good start to her morning, and the warmth of Madi's company still lingered, but it was her friend's suggestive words about sending Tom naughty pictures that now captured her thoughts. She hadn't done anything like that in years, not since her brief modeling career when the intoxicating thrill of being desired had consumed her every waking moment.

It wasn't until that photoshoot with Georgio that she truly understood the power she wielded. His studio had been intimate, professional, the lighting equipment creating pools of warmth in the otherwise cool space. "Arch your back more," he'd instructed, his Italian accent thick. His voice was professional yet commanding. "Let the fabric pull across your breasts... yes, like that." The white set had been simple, a cotton bralette that cupped her full breasts and matching bikini underwear that rode high on her hips.

She remembered how Georgio had approached with the spray bottle. The first spray of cold water had made her gasp, her nipples hardening instantly against the thin fabric. She'd watched, transfixed, as the cotton transformed from opaque to nearly transparent, clinging to every curve and valley of her body. Each additional spray had been strategic and calculated, turning the innocent white cotton into something far more provocative. "Perfecto," he'd murmured. "Now look at me like you're keeping a delicious secret, bella."

She'd moved instinctively, each pose more daring than the last. When he'd suggested she hook her thumbs into the waistband of her underwear, teasing at what lay beneath, she'd felt a surge of power. The final shots had been masterful, some innocent enough for the boutique's spring campaign, others far too provocative for public consumption. Georgio had given her the entire collection. They still lived in a hidden folder on her laptop, protected by a password that only she knew, digital proof of the wild creature that lived beneath her polished exterior.

Her phone chimed, drawing her gaze to the console. Tom's name appeared on the screen with a message: "Good luck with your big presentation! I'm heading into back-to-back meetings till 2. Love you."

A smile tugged at her lips. Jess hit the voice to text button and dictated her reply. "Thanks! Good luck with the meetings. Heading to the office now. Love you too."

The Austin Design Group's offices occupied the entire thirty-fourth floor of a modern glass and steel tower. Jess's heels clicked against the polished marble floors as she made her way past the open-plan workspace where junior designers huddled over their drafting tables and computer screens.

With her conversation with Madi still echoing in her head, Jess slipped into the executive bathroom, grateful that the space was empty. The bathroom was luxurious, with marble countertops and soft lighting that made everyone look like they were glowing. A full-length mirror covered one wall; its pristine surface perfect for what she had in mind. Her heart raced with excitement as she checked that the door was locked. Standing before the full-length mirror, she slowly unbuttoned her silk blouse, Madi's words about "waking Tom up" fueling her boldness.

The first photo captured her reflection as she let the blouse fall completely open, exposing her entire black lace bra, her hand sliding up to squeeze her breast through the delicate fabric while her other hand held the phone. Her lips were parted, eyes heavy with desire.

For the second shot, she unclasped her bra, letting it hang loose. She cupped her bare breasts, nipples hard and visible between her fingers as she arched her back. The silk blouse framed her exposed chest perfectly.

For the third, she hesitated only a moment before turning her back to the mirror. Holding the phone up to block her face, she slowly slid her tailored trousers down past the curve of her ass. The black lace panties hugged every curve, the material disappearing between her cheeks. She arched her back, making her ass look even more spectacular. The photo was pure sex, black lace against tanned skin, and that magnificent ass on display.

"Missing you," she typed, sending all three in quick succession. She imagined Tom opening them during his meeting, having to shift in his seat to hide his throbbing erection as he stared at his phone under the conference table.

Jess quickly pulled her trousers back up and rebuttoned her blouse, smoothing the silk back into place. Her cheeks were flushed as she checked her appearance one final time, making sure every button was properly fastened.

Back at her desk in the open office area, she tried to focus on her upcoming presentation while sneaking glances at her phone, wondering if Tom had seen the photos yet. The thrill of what she'd just done made it hard to concentrate on the mock-ups spread across her workspace.

Her desk phone rang with the distinctive double chime of the front desk line. "Jessica speaking."

"The Skyline team just arrived," Caroline chirped from reception, her voice carrying that wide eyed enthusiasm of a twenty-two-year-old college senior still dreaming of her own design career. "They're in the lobby. Chris Webb is with them." Caroline had only been with the firm for three months, but her bubbly personality and eagerness to please had already made her a favorite among clients.

"Have them settled in the main conference room. Tell them we'll be there in five. And let Sam and Annie know I'll meet them in the small conference room right away."

"On it," Caroline replied, her youth and energy radiating through the phone.

Jess remembered when she'd been that young and earnest, that eager to please. Jess stood and took a deep breath, her nipples still hard against the lace of her bra from taking those photos.

The Skyline Austin project could make her career. Forty stories of luxury overlooking a lake, and she'd spent weeks perfecting the interior concepts for the penthouse units.

She adjusted her blouse, ensuring it revealed just enough to command attention without crossing any lines. Her mother's voice echoed in her head: "Men make decisions with their eyes first, their wallets second, and their brains last." She'd learned during her modeling days that a carefully calculated appearance could be as powerful as any business strategy.

Jess gathered her presentation materials and headed to the small conference room. Sam and Annie were already there, their nervous energy palpable. "Alright, team," Jess said as she entered, her confidence infectious. "Let's do this."

The conference room buzzed with anticipation as they entered. Chris Webb, the developer behind Skyline Austin, sat at the head of the table, his presence commanding attention without effort. At forty-eight, he embodied success with every gesture, his custom suit and quiet confidence speaking of wealth earned rather than inherited. His eyes, sharp and appraising, swept over Jess.

Margaret DeVore, the Austin Design Group's Executive Design Director and Jess' mentor, watched from her seat with keen interest.

"Ms. Marshall," Chris greeted her warmly. "We're excited to see your team's vision for our penthouses."

Jess felt her nervousness transform into something else, that familiar thrill of having all eyes on her, of knowing she could capture and hold their attention. "Likewise," she smiled, letting her natural confidence shine through. "Let's get started."

For the next hour, Jess and her team commanded the room. Their presentation flowed seamlessly as they walked the Skyline team through each concept. Sam's emphasis on sustainable materials clearly resonated, while Annie's passion for eco friendly design was infectious.

"The master suite," Jess explained, pulling up the rendering, "features floor to ceiling windows with automated privacy glass. We've created a seamless transition between the bedroom and the ensuite, using marble and custom millwork to frame the views of the city."

The board members leaned forward in their chairs, clearly impressed. By the time they had finished, Chris Webb's usually stoic expression had softened into approval.

"Exceptional work, Ms. Marshall, Mr. Thompson, Ms. Davis," Chris said, standing to shake each of their hands in turn. "This is exactly what we envisioned. We'd absolutely love to work with your team on this project."

Jess felt the glow of accomplishment wash over her. "Thank you," she said, her voice steady despite the flutter in her stomach. "We're thrilled to be a part of it."

As they filed out of the conference room, Jess couldn't help but feel a sense of triumph. They'd nailed the presentation, secured a major project.

Minutes later in the small conference room, the team gathered with Margaret DeVore. "Well done, all of you," Margaret said. "Especially you, Jessica. You commanded that room like a seasoned pro."

Jess felt a flush of pride at Margaret's words. She'd always looked up to the older woman, seeing in her a glimpse of what her own future could hold. "Thank you, Margaret. We couldn't have done it without Sam and Annie's contributions."

Margaret nodded, her sharp eyes taking in each member of the team. "Sam, your emphasis on sustainable materials was spot on. The board was eating it up. And Annie, your passion for eco friendly design is infectious. Keep that fire burning."

Sam straightened his tie, a pleased smile playing on his lips. "Thank you, Ms. DeVore. I've been researching cutting edge sustainable materials for months. It's good to see it pay off."

Annie, still flushed with the excitement of her first major presentation, nodded eagerly. "I'm just thrilled they were receptive to the green initiatives. Do you think we could push for even more eco friendly elements in the final design?"

Margaret chuckled. "Easy there, tiger. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. But I like your enthusiasm. It reminds me of Jessica when she first started here."

Jess remembered those early days, how Margaret had taken her under her wing, guiding her through the world of high-end design.

"Now," Margaret continued, her tone shifting to something more serious, "let's talk about next steps. Chris Webb isn't an easy man to impress, but you've managed it. That means expectations are going to be sky high moving forward."

The room sobered quickly, the gravity of the situation settling over them. For the next hour, they dissected the presentation, Margaret offering insights and strategies that only years of experience could provide.

Back at her desk, the adrenaline of the presentation still coursed through Jess's veins. She picked up her phone, a thrill running through her as she saw Tom's message: "Jesus, Jess. You're killing me here. Almost had to excuse myself from a meeting. How'd your presentation go?"

Jess bit her lip and her fingers flew across the keyboard: "It went great. Nailed the Skyline pitch. We should celebrate tonight. I miss you." She hesitated, her thumb hovering over the send button, before adding: "Feel like we haven't really talked lately."

Tom's response didn't come for nearly an hour: "That's amazing babe! So proud of you. Swamped with the Meridian implementation today. Lots of fires to put out. Rain check on celebrating? Promise we'll do something special this weekend after Bob moves in. Love you"

Jess spent the rest of her afternoon fine tuning the Skyline designs. Caroline kept her fueled with coffee, and by the time five o'clock rolled around, Jess felt the satisfying exhaustion that came with a productive day.

The drive home gave her time to think, but her thoughts refused to organize themselves into anything coherent. She wasn't unhappy, far from it, but something about the way she and Tom had been moving through their days felt off, like they were partners in a dance whose rhythms had somehow gotten out of sync.

Jess sat in her car for a moment, staring at their beautiful house with its soon to be occupied downstairs unit. Everything in their life looked perfect from the outside. They were an attractive young couple living the dream with successful careers and a lovely home. So why did she feel like something was missing?

---

Once inside, Jess kicked her high heels off by the door and rolled her neck to release the tensions from a long workday. Her silk blouse clung to her skin from the Austin heat, so she started unbuttoning it as she made her way up the stairs. In their bedroom she let it slip from her shoulders to reveal the black lace bra beneath. She tossed the blouse onto the plush velvet armchair in the corner and then moved to the kitchen, her bare feet silent against the hardwood floors.

She poured herself a generous glass of Cabernet, watching the deep red liquid flow out of the bottle. Taking a long sip, she let the wine roll across her tongue, savoring it. She heard the front door open and then footsteps as Tom walked upstairs.

Jess took another sip of wine as Tom appeared in the doorway, his tie loosened and sleeves rolled up. His eyes immediately locked onto her exposed skin, drinking in the sight of her standing there in just her black lace bra and tailored pants.

"Well hello," he said. His gaze traced the swell of her breasts, lingering on where the delicate lace barely contained her curves, the same bra she'd teased him with in those photos earlier.

"Hi," she cooed, deliberately arching her back as she took another sip of wine. The movement made her breasts strain against the lace, her nipples visibly hard beneath the sheer fabric. "Want a glass?"

Tom crossed the kitchen in three long strides and Jess, placing her wineglass down, stepped forward to kiss him. Her lips parted slightly as they met his, her tongue teasing along his bottom lip. Tom's hands settled on her hips.

"How'd the presentation go?"

"It was incredible," Jess said, her excitement bubbling to the surface as she pressed against him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "They loved it, they want to work with us on the project. Skyline is going to be huge for the firm."

Tom grinned as his fingers tightened on her waist. "That's amazing, Jess. You deserve it." His eyes sparkled with something more than just pride. "Actually, I have some news too. Davis called me into his office a few days ago. Once the Meridian implementation is complete, they're promoting me to Senior Consultant."

"Tom! That's wonderful!" Jess pressed closer, genuinely excited. "When?"

"After we wrap up Meridian. There'll be some travel involved, some week-long trips, but the compensation bump will help us get back on track." His hands slid up her bare back, fingers tracing her spine. "Maybe we might not need Bob as a tenant for too long, maybe less than a year to build our savings back up. We can finally start thinking about that family we want."

"Really?" Jess's eyes lit up with genuine excitement, her body pressing closer to his. The thought of finally being able to start their family made her heart race. She'd been suppressing that desire for so long, trying to be practical, but now hope bloomed in her chest. "God, Tom, that would be amazing. A baby..." She bit her lip, imagining their future. "How much of a raise are we talking about?"

Tom grinned, clearly pleased by her enthusiasm. "Enough to make a difference." His hands tightened on her waist. "Plus, the travel means extra per diem, hotel points, airline miles. We could even take some weekend trips together when I'm in interesting cities."

"Mmm, hotel sex," Jess murmured, running her fingers along his tie. "Remember that time in Vegas?"

"How could I forget? You were wearing that little black dress..."

Jess nodded slowly, processing everything. "We'll make it work."

"I know we will," Tom said. "I just don't want it to feel like we're losing us in the process."

His words struck a chord. "I've been feeling that too. Like we've been so focused on everything else, we've forgotten to focus on... this." She gestured between them, her breasts pressing against his chest.

Tom pulled her tighter as he nuzzled her neck. "We're still us, Jess. We've just got to remind ourselves why we work so well together."

Jess rested her head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat grounding her as his hands roamed her body. The promise of their future, of finally starting their family, mixed with the heat of desire building between them. "We're going to be okay, aren't we?" she whispered.

"Better than okay," Tom promised, pressing a kiss to her forehead before capturing her lips in a deeper, more demanding kiss. His tongue invaded her mouth, tasting, claiming, as if he could erase all her doubts with the force of his passion.

Tom's fingers tangled in her hair, tugging gently to expose more of her throat to his hungry mouth. "Those pictures you sent earlier... fuck, Jess. I almost lost it. If the meeting wasn't so important I would have excused myself to the bathroom."

The image of Tom stroking himself in a cramped bathroom stall, stifling his moans as he came to her photos, sent a fresh wave of arousal through Jess. She smirked, grinding her hips against the hard bulge in his pants. "That was the idea," she said quietly, her hands working at his belt. "I wanted you thinking about me all day."

Tom growled, spinning her around and pressing her against the kitchen counter. The cold marble bit into her skin through her bra, her nipples hardening to stiff peaks. Tom's hands slid around her waist, his fingers working at the button of her tailored trousers with urgency. "Oh, I was thinking about you alright," he said. "Thinking about bending you over my desk, stripping these pants off you..."

Jess gasped as Tom's fingers unbuttoned her trousers, sliding inside to cup her mound through her lace panties as her trousers fell. "Fuck, Tom," she moaned, arching into his touch. "Please..."

Tom's fingers slipped beneath her delicate lace panties, stroking her slick folds. "So wet for me," he murmured. "I've been daydreaming about this pussy all day."

Jess closed her eyes, losing herself in the sensation. She rocked against Tom's hand, chasing the pleasure building inside her. His thumb found her clit, circling the sensitive bud with maddening precision. "Oh god," Jess moaned, her hips bucking as Tom inserted a finger, stretching her deliciously. Her moans got louder when he slid another finger inside her. She then reached behind her, fumbling with his zipper.

Tom groaned as she wrapped her hand around his cock, stroking him to full hardness. "Fuck, baby," he panted. "I need you so fucking bad."

"Wait," said Jess, turning to face him with a wicked smile. She sank to her knees, her eyes never leaving his as she licked her lips. Tom's eyes widened as she eagerly yanked his pants and boxers down, freeing his already hard cock.

"Holy fuck, Jess," Tom gasped as she took him into her mouth, her skilled tongue swirling around his head before sliding down his length. The memory of their first time flooded back. She remembered how she'd shocked him by taking him completely down her throat without warning, a technique she'd learned before him though he didn't know with whom. Her head bobbed steadily now, taking him deeper with each stroke, her nose brushing his pelvis as she suppressed her gag reflex. She hollowed her cheeks, creating intense suction as she dragged her lips back to his tip.

Jess had always loved giving head, especially the intoxicating power it gave her over men. She lived for the desperate sounds she could extract from them as they begged her not to stop, the way their thighs would quiver as she worked them with her expert tongue. Though Tom had been her only cock for the past six years, she hadn't lost her touch. She glanced up at Tom through her thick lashes, maintaining that sultry eye contact as she buried him in her throat, knowing how wild it drove him.

Tom's fingers tangled roughly in her silky hair, guiding her movements as she serviced him with practiced skill. "God, your fucking mouth," he groaned. "Nobody sucks cock like you do, baby." If only he knew just how much practice she'd had before him, she thought wickedly.

Jess increased her pace, her free hand massaging his balls as she took him repeatedly to the back of her throat. She could feel him getting close, his thick shaft pulsing against her tongue as his grip tightened in her hair. The slight pain only aroused her more, her pussy dripping with anticipation.

"Fuck, stop," Tom growled, yanking her up by her hair in a way that made her cunt clench with need. "I want to fuck that tight little pussy." He spun her around and bent her over the kitchen counter, his saliva-slicked cock sliding between her soaked folds. His swollen head nudged her entrance, making Jess whimper as she pushed back against him, silently begging to be filled.

Tom thrust into her in one swift motion and Jess cried out, her fingers gripping the edge of the counter as he set a punishing pace. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the kitchen, punctuated by their breathless moans and the wet squelch of his cock plunging into her soaked pussy.

"Harder," Jess begged. She arched her back further, offering herself up completely. "Make me feel it tomorrow. Want to feel you every time I move."

Jess loved feeling him lose control like this, loved knowing she could still drive him wild after all these years. Each powerful thrust sent waves of pleasure through her body. The way he hit filled her was everything she needed. His possessive grip on her hips would leave marks, and the thought of wearing his fingerprints on her skin tomorrow made her even wetter.

"Yes, yes, fuck me," Jess gasped, pushing back against Tom's thrusts. She imagined how they must look, her bent over the kitchen counter, her ass raised as Tom pounded into her. The dirty, primal nature of it all heightened her arousal. This was what she'd been craving, this raw connection, this moment where nothing existed except their bodies moving together in sync.

"Touch yourself," Tom commanded, his voice rough with lust. "I want to feel you cum all over my cock."

Jess snaked a hand between her legs, her fingers finding her swollen clit. The dual sensation of Tom's shaft and her fingers working her sensitive clit had her climbing rapidly toward release.

"Oh fuck, oh god, don't stop," she babbled. "Gonna cum, gonna cum so hard!" Her words dissolved into a loud moan as her orgasm slammed through her. Her pussy clamped down on Tom's cock, rhythmically milking him as waves of pleasure wracked her body. Tom's thrusts grew erratic.

Jess suddenly remembered that she removed the IUD. They shouldn't risk it, not with their finances still unstable. "Wait," she gasped, pushing back against his chest. "Not inside. Let me taste you."

She spun around and dropped to her knees in one fluid motion, taking him deep into her throat. The taste of her own arousal on his cock made her moan around his shaft. Tom's hands fisted in her hair as she worked him frantically with her mouth and tongue, desperate to make him cum. Her skilled tongue swirled around his swollen head before she took him completely down her throat again, her nose pressing against his pelvis.

"Fuck, gonna cum," Tom groaned, his hips jerking. "Take it all, baby."

Jess relaxed her throat as Tom erupted, swallowing every drop of his hot cum as he pulsed against her tongue. She kept sucking until he was completely spent, cleaning him thoroughly before releasing him with a wet pop. She looked up at him with her cheeks flushed. "Better than finishing in the office bathroom?" she asked with a smirk.

Tom smiled and lifted her up, crushing his mouth to hers in another demanding kiss. As they broke apart, Tom's eyes darkened with renewed hunger. "Think you can go again?" he asked. "Because I'm not done with you yet. Not even close."

Jess bit her lip, feeling a fresh wave of arousal course through her at his words. "Bedroom," she breathed, already backing toward their room. "I want you to fuck me until I can't remember my own name."

I really like that the characters have some complexity to them. I look forward to what's next.

great tale so far, love the jealousy angle, and husband imagine other men w/Jess. Also I live in Central Texas.. know the Austin scene well !

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Just the first part and already so much (good) Work !
Thanks for this new story very... tempting.

Brilliant start looking forward to more

Eagerly awaiting chapter 2!

Very promising and so well written. Can't wait for more.

Here's Chapter 2. Enjoy!

---

Jess woke up Saturday morning satisfied in a way she hadn’t felt in months. A lazy smile tugged at her lips as flashes of last night played in her mind like scenes from a porno. She remembered her own desperate cries as Tom manhandled her, the way he’d taken her again and again until they both collapsed from exhaustion.

For those precious hours, their problems had disappeared, hungry kisses and desperate touches replacing them. No mortgages, no tenants, no work, just husband and wife, skin on skin, breath on breath, two bodies remembering their old rhythm.

She rolled onto her side, propping her head on her hand to study Tom’s peaceful sleeping face. At rest, the usual tension had melted away, making him look younger and more carefree, reminding her of the young man she’d first met in college. “I’ve missed you,” she whispered softly. She’d needed this reminder that beneath the distracted husband buried in spreadsheets and work emails lurked the same man who once couldn’t keep his hands off her.

Jess glanced at the clock. In less than half an hour, Bob would arrive to move in downstairs. The thought of their new tenant’s imminent arrival should’ve sparked anxiety, but after last night’s intimacy, it felt less threatening. Her body was too relaxed, too satiated to harbor any real concern. Still, she’d have to adjust. Their world was about to change whether they were ready or not.

Tom stirred beside her, his eyes fluttering open to find his wife watching him. “Mmm… morning beautiful,” he mumbled, rolling to face her. He lazily reached for her, his palm sliding down to cup her ass, pulling her closer towards him.

“God, you’re absolutely insatiable,” she laughed, deliberately grinding her thigh against his morning wood.

“Says the woman who kept begging for more,” he teased. He playfully mimicked her breathless pleas from the night before, “Harder Tom! Deeper! Don’t stop! Don’t you dare fucking stop!”

Jess laughed and blushed, burying her face in his chest. Those passionate cries hadn’t been about physical pleasure alone. They’d been a release of pent-up frustration and longing that had been building for months.

His hand moved to her breasts, softly squeezing, his touch was now gentle where it had been demanding hours before. “You were so fucking loud last night,” he continued. “Good thing Bob isn’t moved in yet. These walls aren’t that thick.”

The thought of their soon-to-be tenant hearing her screams sent an unexpected jolt through his body. He tilted her chin upward and kissed her while his hands explored as if they had all the time in the world. She let herself melt into it, let herself forget the clock ticking on her nightstand, but when his hand drifted to the waistband of her panties, she caught his wrist.

“Bob’s coming at noon,” she reminded him.

He sighed and let his head fall back onto the pillow. “Of course he is.”

“You’re cute when you pout,” she said, crawling out from under the covers and crossing the room. She could feel his eyes on her as she deliberately made a show of stretching.

“Christ, Jess…” he said from the bed.

She flashed him a smile over her shoulder. “You coming? Or do I get all the hot water to myself?’

He didn’t need to be told twice.

---

Jess had always loved showering with Tom. She loved sharing the confined space, pressing up against him, feeling his hands explore her body.

Their shower ritual dated back to their college days. Even then, there’d been something uniquely intimate about sharing that confined space, about being completely bare, with nothing to hide behind. Every scar, every imperfection was exposed under the bathroom light.

Their showers had evolved into something deeper now. It was a place where the outside world couldn’t intrude. Sometimes they’d make love, but more often than not they’d simply wash and care for one another’s bodies.

The memory of their first shared shower remained vivid in Jess’ mind. She’d been self-conscious at first, worried about him seeing her without makeup. But Tom had looked at her bare face and whispered “You’re so fucking beautiful” with such raw honesty that her insecurities had melted away. That vulnerability, that complete exposure to each other, had formed a cornerstone of their relationship.

Jess reached for the bar of soap, but Tom took it from her. “Let me,” he said, his voice carrying a gentle command.

His hands moved slowly over her body, lathering her back, and moving down to her ass. When she turned to face him, his eyes were locked on to hers.

“You’re staring,” she said.

“You’re dangerous, you know that?” he replied.

Before she could respond his lips were on hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. But somewhere in the back of her mind, she still registered the faint rumble of a truck engine outside.

“Shit,” she muttered, pulling away. “That’s him.”

Tom sighed, resting his forehead against hers. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

They scrambled out of the shower as the intimate moment evaporated.

Jess slid her tiny black tong up her long legs and then fastened the matching bra as her breasts filled the cups.

“Jesus, Jess,” he groaned as she bent over to pull on her yoga pants.

“Focus,” she replied, pulling an oversized t-shirt over her head.

They moved to the window and peered outside, where Bob’s F-150 sat in their driveway. Its faded blue paint and well-earned dents looked completely out of place next to Tom’s Lexus and her Tesla.

They watched as Bob unloaded his truck, moving unexpectedly fluidly for a man his age and size. Between loads Bob paused, hands resting on his hips, calculating eyes sweeping across what was his new domain.

“Not much stuff,” Tom observed, noting a surprisingly sparse collection in the truck bed. Sturdy boxes, heavy-duty metal shelving units, a grill, and a large suitcase completed the humble inventory. “For someone his age, you’d think there’d be… more.”

“Maybe he’s learned to travel light,” Jess murmured, though part of her did wonder. Two divorces had to leave some sort of baggage, even if it wasn’t visible in the truck bed. She found herself curious about what kind of women his ex-wives had been.

“Let’s go say hello,” Tom suggested, stepping away from the window.

They made their way downstairs and through the front door, coming out into the warmth and bright sunshine.

“Afternoon, Bob,” Tom called out, stepping forward with his hand extended. “Welcome to your new home.”

Bob straightened up, wiping his palm across his jeans before gripping Tom's hand in a firm handshake. "Afternoon," he rumbled, his eyes flickering to Jess as she offered a warm smile. "Nice day for moving."

“Need a hand?” Tom offered.

Bob paused for a moment and conducted a quick assessment of Tom’s physique. “Think you can manage this one?” he asked, gesturing toward what had to be one of the heavy boxes.

Tom didn’t miss a beat, letting out a quick laugh. “I’ll give it my best shot,” he replied.

Bob turned his attention to Jess. His expression softened, and with a level of care, he handed her a smaller box labeled ‘KITCHEN.’ “And you, ma’am, get the fragile stuff. No offense.”

“None taken,” Jess said lightly, adjusting the box in her arms.

Tom and Jess made their way to the side of the house where Bob’s new private entrance was located. Inside, Jess set her box on the kitchen counter while Tom placed the heavier case near the wall.

She then moved to the windows and raised the blinds, allowing natural light to flood the space, highlighting the finishes she’d selected.

“The light in here’s gorgeous,” she commented.

“Yeah, it makes this space feel bigger.”

“That was the goal.” She paused, considering the space through their new tenant’s eyes. “But I have a feeling Bob might rearrange things.”

They shared a look before heading back outside where Bob removed more things from his truck.

The unit transformed with each trip. His battered coffee maker took up residence on the countertop. His tools took up space on the floor of the spare bedroom.

Bob revealed an unexpected gentleness with his grill, pulling a rag from his back pocket and wiping down the surface before wheeling it toward his entrance.

With the last of the items moved in, they gathered around the dining table. “Let’s get the paperwork squared away,” Jess suggested as she spreading out the documents.

“Sure thing. Let’s make it official,” Bob commented, already reaching for the pen. His writing was neat and controlled, at odds with his rough exterior. The scratch of his pen against paper was the only sound until Tom cleared his throat.

“Keys,” Tom prompted, and Jess snapped into action.

“Right.” She passed over the ring of keys. “Front door and back entrance.”

Bob then reached into his back pocket and pulled out a thick leather wallet, worn and weathered like everything else about him.

“Here’s the rent and deposit.” He counted out three thousand in hundreds and laid them on the table. “Two thousand for the month, one for damage.”

Tom’s eyes lit up at the sight of the cash, a mixture of relief and excitement evident in his expression. Each bill represented another small step toward financial recovery. He reached for the cash, folded the bills, and slipped them into his pocket.

Tom then pulled Jess close and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. Bob’s eyes flickered to them watching the display.

“Well, let us know if you need anything,” Jess offered with a warm smile. “We’re usually around on weekends.”

“Will do.” Bob replied. “I’ll start settling in and maybe tackle some of that unpacking.”

Tom extended his hand with a friendly nod. “Again, welcome to the house, Bob. Looking forward to having you here.”

Bob’s handshake was firm and solid like the man himself. “Yeah, well… guess I should say thanks for lettin’ me crash here.”

The laundry room took on new meaning as they passed through it. The space served as a connecting hub with three exits: the door they’d just entered through leading back to Bob’s apartment, a door leading to their garage, and a third connecting to the main house where the stairs led up to their private sanctuary.

Tom was careful to lock this last door behind them. The soft click represented more than just security. It was the sound of their world being divided into ‘ours’ and ‘his’.

“That went well,” Tom said, his voice light but carrying a trace of relief as they ascended the stairs back to their space.

“Yeah,” Jess agreed, following behind. “It feels... right. Like everything’s finally starting to move in the direction we wanted.”

Upstairs, Tom wrapped his arms around Jess and pulled her close enough that she could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her ear. “We’re good,” he murmured.

Jess tilted her head back, meeting his eyes. “Yeah… we are.”

The moment was short-lived. Reality, as it always seemed to, intruded in the form of Tom’s phone buzzing in his pocket. His mouth twitched into an apologetic half-smile before he pulled the device out, frowning at the screen.

“Davis,” he said, already swiping to open the notification. “Meridian’s getting anxious about the timeline … I have to check this.”

Jess gave him a smile, stepping back just enough to let him go. “It’s fine,” she said, meaning it. After he had satisfied her so deeply last night, she couldn’t bring herself to complain.

But she knew how this worked, how work always had a way of creeping in, stealing these small moments whenever it could. “Just two hours, right?”

“Just two hours,” Tom promised, though they both knew it could easily stretch longer. He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. “Then I’m all yours.”

Jess laughed and nudged him toward his office. “Go on, then, workaholic. The sooner you start, the sooner you finish.”

He grinned at that, flashing her a look that was all charm and boyishness before disappearing into his office. The door closing behind him left Jess alone in the quiet of their house.

Standing in the hallway, Jess’ smile faded. The sound of the door closing shut was too familiar, yet another unfinished moment between them. She understood, of course she did. The promotion, their financial recovery, their future family, all hinged on his dedication to work. But understanding didn’t make the constant interruptions any easier to bear.

---

In their master bathroom, Jess studied her reflection with the critical eye of someone who acutely understood the power of presentation. She applied a touch of gloss to her lips, then slipped off the oversized T-shirt and slid on a sports bra, adjusting the straps carefully to ensure a calculated amount of cleavage.

She swept her blonde hair into a high ponytail and adjusted it, allowing a few strands to fall loose in a way that appeared unintentional but was anything but.

The black Lululemon leggings she’d put on earlier were like a second skin. The high waist emphasized her tiny waist and the curves of her hips while it clung to her ass with almost obscene perfection. Her outfit walked that line between athletic functionality and raw sex appeal, a balance she’d mastered long ago.

She glanced at her wedding ring as she reached for her water bottle and gym bag. It felt right, grounding her in the commitment they’d renewed so thoroughly last night.

“Heading to the gym,” Jess called toward Tom’s office. She heard his muffled acknowledgment through the door followed by the sound of rapid-fire typing. She smiled. Her passionate man was in work mode but that was okay. She knew exactly how to bring him back out when she wanted to. Besides, she thought, sometimes a little distance made the reunion sweeter. Last night had proved that much at least.

The drive to Elite Fitness was quick. When she pulled into the parking lot, it was half-full. Not so empty she’d feel exposed and not so crowded she’d have to wait for equipment. Just the way she liked it.

The heavy glass doors parted as she made her entrance. The clang of weights and whir of cardio machines created a familiar backdrop, punctuated by occasional grunts of effort and the sound of pop music from overhead speakers.

At the front desk, the young attendant’s eyes widened slightly as Jess scanned her membership card. She pretended not to notice his gaze as she headed towards the separate women’s section.

For the next half hour, Jess moved through her routine, legs and core today.

She started with squats, thighs burning as she pushed through a high number of reps. The muscle fatigue was amplified by the effects of straddling Tom last night.

Romanian deadlifts followed as she bent forward with her legs straight, stretching her hamstrings while putting her ass on display. The position reminded her of being bent over the kitchen counter.

The Bulgarian split squats proved especially challenging. Her legs shook more than usual as she lowered herself down, partly from the intense exercise and partly from the previous night’s exertions.

She finished with core work, though her abs were already somewhat fatigued. Each plank and Russian twist showed off her flat stomach and defined waist while intensifying the pleasant soreness that permeated her body.

Jess then made her way to her preferred spot in the cardio section. The spot offered a nice view of the entire gym floor while keeping her somewhat removed from the main traffic areas. The mirrors in front and beside her reflected her form as she started jogging.

For thirty minutes, she maintained a brisk pace and a focused mind. Each stride was purposeful, and her breathing remained controlled but heavy.

Her chest rose and fell in a hypnotic rhythm that drew wandering eyes like moths to flame. She’d caught more than a few men stumbling through their sets, their eyes glancing at her. Even a trainer helping a client kept stealing glances. She didn’t acknowledge the attention but there was something deeply satisfying about knowing she could disrupt an entire gym’s workout routine without even trying.

Her eyes drifted to the free weights section where Brandon dominated the space with his impressive physique. He was impossible to miss, standing six-foot-three, with lean muscle carved by countless hours in the gym. His tank top was damp with sweat, showing off his chiselled arms, while black athletic shorts revealed his thick quads. He looked like he’d stepped out of a fitness magazine cover shoot, and he knew it.

Their eyes met and Brandon’s signature smirk appeared instantly. Oh great, here we go, she thought as he set down a dumbbell and made his way over to her treadmill.

“Well fuck me sideways,” Brandon drawled, propping himself against the adjacent machine. “If it isn’t Jessica Marshall herself, making the rest of us mere mortals look bad. Didn’t think I’d run into you today.”

“Really?” Jess rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t quite suppress a smile. “That’s your opening line today? You’re losing your touch, Brandon.”

“Sweetheart, my touch is just fine.” His grin turned wolfish. “Just ask Madi about-.”

“Brandon,” Jess interrupted, shaking her head. “Do you ever say normal things?”

“Depends. Would ‘hi, how’s your day?’ get me the same reaction?”

“Probably. Try it sometime. Anyway, I’m here all the time. Shouldn’t be that surprising.”

“Oh, believe me,” his eyes remained on her chest, making no attempt to hide his appreciation for her body. “It’s always a pleasant surprise when you’re here.”

“You think that line’s gonna work on me?” she teased, shaking her head.

“Just calling it like I see it.” he replied. His eyes made a deliberately slow journey down her body and paused at her magnificent ass. “I have to say, those leggings are gonna give some poor bastard a heart attack.”

“My eyes are up here, buddy boy.”

“Can’t blame a man for admiring art… and you, Mrs. Marshall… are a masterpiece.”

Jess laughed. “You did not just say that… do you practice these lines in the mirror, or do they just come naturally?”

“Pure talent, baby,” he replied, turning to the mirror and doing a front double bicep bodybuilding pose. “Speaking of natural talents...”

“Stop right there,” she warned. “I don’t need to hear about your ‘talents’. Madi’s already overshared enough.”

“Oh?” His features took on that infuriatingly confident look. “And what exactly has our friend been telling you?”

“Nothing that needs repeating,” she replied.

“Where’s the fun in that?” He shifted closer and the corner of his mouth lifted in that way that made her want to slap him. “By the way, there’s something different about you today. You’re… glowing. Tommy must’ve finally remembered what that gorgeous body of yours is for.”

Heat crept up her neck. “Uh, just… a good workout,” she managed.

“Uh-huh.” Brandon’s smirk said he wasn’t buying it. “Nothing to do with why you’re walking a little different today?”

“Brandon!” The protest came automatically, but inside her mind raced. Was it obvious? Could he really tell just by looking that she’d been thoroughly fucked last night?

“What? Just making an observation. But if Tommy’s not treating you properly...”

“Don’t you have someone else to annoy?”

“Plenty of options,” he agreed easily. “But watching you pretend to ignore me is the highlight of my day.”

“I don’t pretend to ignore you. I actively ignore you. There’s a difference.”

“See? That right there, that sharp tongue. It’s exactly why I find you so fascinating.”

“Fascinating?” she turned to face him with one eyebrow raised. “Is that what you’re calling it now?”

Brandon stepped closer. “What would you call it?” His voice dropped lower. “This thing between us?”

“There is no ‘thing’ between us,” Jess said. “There’s you, being annoying, and me, tolerating it because you’re Tom’s friend.”

“Mmm,” Brandon hummed. “Is that why your pulse speeds up when I get close? Because you’re tolerating me?”

“My pulse speeds up because you’re irritating,” she shot back, but there was no real venom in it.

“Right there! The way you pretend to hate me while your eyes say something completely different. It’s fascinating.”

“And what exactly do my eyes say, Brandon?”

He stepped even closer. “They say you enjoy our little dance. That maybe you’ve thought about that drink I keep offering. Just admit you’re curious.”

“Curious about what?” Jess challenged but she knew what he meant.

“About what would happen if you stopped pretending.” His eyes held hers, unblinking. “About whether all this tension we generate could be put to better use.”

“That’s your friend’s wife you’re ogling.”

Brandon grinned. “Tommy knows exactly who I am. I’ve never pretended to be anything else. Besides, he knew exactly what he signed up for when he married a smokeshow like you... so when are you finally gonna let me buy you that drink?”

“Like I said, still married, still not interested.”

“You know, just because you’re married doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun conversation now and then” he said with a slow grin spreading across his face. “Or are you just scared you’d like it too much?”

“Goodness, Brandon.”

When the treadmill beeped its final warning and slowed to a stop, Jess grabbed her water bottle and took a gulp. She barely noticed the stray droplet trailing down her throat to disappear between her breasts, until she caught Brandon’s smirk. Brandon’s eyes had followed its path.

“You’ve got an ego the size of this gym, you know that?” she said, twisting the cap back onto her water bottle.

“Just matching the size of everything else about me,” Brandon countered, earning a genuine laugh from Jess.

“Good one,” she replied, gathering her things. “Well, this has been fun, but I’m done with my workout. Goodbye, Brandon.”

“Going already?” He stepped back to make space for her. “And here I thought we were just getting started.”

“Maybe in another lifetime,” she called over her shoulder, feeling his eyes burning into her ass with each step.

“One of these days,” he called after her, “you’re going to stop lying to yourself about how much you enjoy our little encounters!”

---

A few hours later, Jess reclined on one of the loungers arranged around their rectangular pool, letting the sun paint her skin as post-workout endorphins flowed through her tired muscles.

She toyed with the straps of her navy one-piece swimsuit, yet another calculated choice. It hugged her in a way that was modest enough for their new tenant’s potential appearance while still highlighting every feminine asset. The high-cut legs elongated her toned thighs and the scooped neckline offered just enough cleavage to be enticing without crossing into overtly tempting territory.

The sound of the sliding glass door drew her attention upward as Tom appeared on their balcony. His bare chest still gleamed with droplets from their earlier swim. He descended the wooden stairs with a refilled pitcher of margaritas in hand.

“Still thirsty?” he asked, pouring into waiting glasses.

“Always,” she replied, letting the word drip with innuendo as she accepted her glass and took a long sip, maintaining eye contact over the glass.

“You look incredible in that suit,” Tom murmured. “But I kind of miss that white bikini from last summer.”

The white bikini in question had been little more than thin strings, designed to draw every masculine eye in the vicinity. Jess remembered how it would be practically transparent when wet, how it would reveal her nipples, how the bottoms would ride up between her ass cheeks with every movement.

“That wouldn’t be very appropriate now that we have a tenant,” she replied, though the thought of wearing it, of being seen in it, would undoubtedly be thrilling.

“No, I guess not,” Tom agreed. “But the thought of you in it...” He trailed off.

“Behave yourself,” she warned, finishing her drink. “Bob might come out any time.”

Jess then rose from the lounger in one fluid motion, giving him a view of her ass. At the pool’s edge, she glanced back over her shoulder. “Coming in? Or just going to stare?”

“Give me a minute,” Tom replied. “I can’t get enough of this view.”

Jess smiled and slipped into the water, sighing as the coolness enveloped her heated skin. “God, this feels amazing.” She pushed off from the wall, executing a graceful stroke that carried her to the opposite end.

Tom rose and launched himself into the pool, joining her with a splash. He immediately moved toward her. “Come here often?” he teased, stalking her through the water.

“Oh, is this your pool?” Jess played along. “I must have gotten lost.”

“Lost, huh?” Tom stalked closer. “Maybe I should help you find your way.”

“If you can catch me,” she taunted, slipping away just as his fingers brushed her waist. She dove beneath the surface and her legs propelled her to the opposite end.

The chase ended inevitably with capture, her body sliding sensually against his as his arms locked around her waist. The margaritas had loosened their inhibitions, making every touch feel electric, every laugh more intimate.

“Got you,” he growled against her ear.

“Mmm, so you have,” she purred, pretending to struggle while grinding back against his erection. “Now what are you going to do with me?”

“Keep moving like that,” he warned, “and you’re going to start something we can’t finish out here.”

Jess bit her lip. Their private oasis felt simultaneously exposed and intimate. The high fence ensured privacy from their neighbors but the knowledge that Bob could appear at any moment diminished her arousal. “Maybe later,” she promised.

They glided to the pool’s edge where Jess rested her arms on the concrete, enjoying Tom’s body pressed against her from behind. His erect cock nestled between her ass cheeks through their swimwear.

“So,” she said, “what do you think about Bob?”

Tom’s thumbs traced lazy circles on her hips, considering the question. “He seems solid. Competent. Professional. Why? Second thoughts?”

“No, just...” Jess thought about it for a moment, searching for the right words. “Different having someone else around. Going to take some getting used to.”

“We’ll manage,” Tom murmured against her neck. “Besides, the extra income means we’re one step closer to starting our family.”

Jess leaned back into him, enjoying the solid warmth of his body despite the cool water.

“How was your workout?” Tom asked.

“Good,” Jess replied. “Did my usual weights and cardio. Ran into Brandon there actually.”

“Oh yeah? How’s our resident Casanova?”

“Same old Brandon,” Jess replied. “Showing off in the weight section, flirting with anything that moves.”

“Including you?” Tom asked as his fingers skimmed the underside of her breasts.

Jess laughed lightly, though her nipples hardened at his touch. “You know how he is, being ridiculous as always, making inappropriate comments, trying to get a reaction.”

“What kind of comments?” Tom’s hands slid higher, gently cupping her breasts through the suit.

“Oh, just Brandon being Brandon. Said my leggings we’re gonna give someone a heart attack. Called me a smokeshow. Real subtle, your friend.”

“He’s not wrong,” Tom murmured, his fingers growing bolder in their exploration. “About the heart attack part. I’ve seen how men look at you.”

Jess turned in Tom’s arms and her eyes locked with his. “Thomas Marshall,” she started, her voice carrying a tone of playful accusation. “Are you getting turned on thinking about Brandon flirting with me?”

The sound of the sliding glass door shattered their moment, making them spring apart guiltily like teenagers caught making out. They shared a look, both fighting smiles as they moved to a more respectable distance.

“This conversation isn’t over,” Jess whispered.

When Bob came out to the patio, his presence immediately altered the atmosphere between Tom and Jess.

Bob wore khaki cargo shorts and a white polo that stretched across his broad chest and protruding belly. In one hand, he carried a six-pack of beer.

“Hope I’m not interrupting,” he stated. Bob’s eyes swept over the scene before settling briefly on Jess. His gaze stayed on her for just a moment before shifting to Tom. “Thought I’d come say hello properly, maybe share a cold one with my new landlords.”

Jess felt suddenly exposed under his appraisal. She shifted closer to Tom and he draped his arm across her shoulders.

“Not interrupting at all,” Tom replied. “We’re just enjoying the afternoon. Care to join us?”

As Bob sat on a lounger, the sturdy frame creaked under his weight. He twisted the cap off a beer and drained nearly half the bottle in one long pull.

He then concentrated on the simple plantings along the fence line before moving to study the aging deck furniture and concrete surrounding the pool. The space was functional and well-kept, but to someone with his experience, the potential for enhancement was obvious.

“So,” he said after wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “What’s the dinner situation? You two look too comfortable to be bothering with cooking.”

“We hadn’t really thought about it,” Jess admitted. “Probably order something in.”

“Nonsense. Let me cook for you both. A thank you for taking me on.” Another long drink emptied the bottle. “Got some prime ribeyes in my fridge.”

“Oh, you don’t have to-” Jess started, but Bob waved off her protest.

“I insist. Been grilling steaks longer than you’ve been alive, darlin’. Trust me, you haven’t had a proper steak until you’ve had one of mine.”

“Well, if you’re sure, we’d love to try your cooking.” Said Tom.

“Excellent,” Bob replied. “I’ll get everything ready.” He left his beers by the lounger and headed toward the house, pausing at the sliding glass door. “Hope you both brought your appetite. I don’t cook for just anyone, you know.”

“Well,” Tom said, breaking the silence that followed Bob’s exit. “That was...”

“Unexpected?” said Jess, finishing his sentence. She laughed lightly. “He definitely knows how to take control of a situation,” she observed, then quickly added, “I mean, he just showed up and suddenly he’s cooking us dinner.”

“True,” Tom agreed. “But I’m curious about these supposedly proper steaks of his.”

They climbed out of the pool together, water dripping down their bodies. Tom grabbed their towels from the nearby chair and handed one to Jess.

Tom couldn’t help but stare as Jess dabbed at her face and ran the towel down her arms. The swimsuit, chosen for its modesty, betrayed her in the most enticing ways as water droplets traced paths down her body. The conservative cut that had seemed so appropriate in dry conditions now served only to emphasize what it tried to conceal.

Finally, they settled onto the lounger together, Tom’s arm finding its way around Jess’s shoulders as she curled into his side.

---

The sliding door opened again moments later. Bob wheeled out his Weber grill and positioned it beside the outdoor dining table. He disappeared inside again, returning with a large cooler that he set down with a solid thunk. The deliberate way he arranged his grilling tools mirrored how he’d organized his work equipment earlier, with everything in its proper place. “Everything’s marinating,” Bob announced. “Needs an hour to really get good.”

With everything arranged to his satisfaction, Bob settled back on the lounger. He picked up another beer and twisted the cap off. “So,” he began, taking a long pull from his bottle. “Tell me about this neighborhood. Been here long?”

“Yeah about… three years or so,” Tom replied, shifting to face Bob while keeping his arm draped around Jess. There was pride in his voice that made Jess smile. This house represented everything they’d built together, every dream they’d shared. “Found it just before the market went crazy. Good timing, really.”

“Smart move,” Bob nodded approvingly. “Values nearly doubled.” His eyes scanned the backyard thoughtfully. “Good bones on this place too. Just needs some updating to hit its potential.”

Tom nodded. “So, what got you started in the trades, Bob? Seems like you’ve got a real passion for it.”

Bob’s face softened with nostalgia. “My old man’s plumbing business. Started helping when I was fourteen, learning the basics. By eighteen, I could handle most repairs solo.”

“Your father taught you everything?” Jess asked.

“Everything worth knowing,” Bob confirmed. “Dad believed in learning everything properly. No shortcuts. Said a man’s reputation is built on the quality of his work.”

“Must have been quite the education,” Tom commented.

“Best education a man could ask for,” Bob agreed. “Started my own business at twenty-three, right after marrying Sarah.” A shadow crossed his face at the name. “She was something else. Eighteen when we met, fresh out of high school. Cheerleader type.”

“Sounds romantic,” Jess ventured, curiosity piqued by the emotion in Bob’s voice.

“Was for ten years.” Bob’s tone hardened. “Till the divorce.” He drained his beer, reaching for another. “Second marriage wasn’t much better. Karen, bank manager, seemed more grounded. But divorced her too.”

“I’m sorry…” Jess said softly.

Bob waved off her sympathy. “Ancient history now. Business kept me going. Built it up from just me and a truck to twenty solid employees. Every job done right, no exceptions.”

Tom leaned forward, chin resting on his hand, interest sparked. “That’s impressive. How’d you manage the growth?”

Bob leaned back on the lounger as his eyes took on a distant look recalling his glory days. “You learn to focus on what matters. First big break came when I fixed a pipe at this fancy restaurant downtown. Owner was so impressed, he recommended me to all his rich friends. Soon I was renovating million-dollar homes, installing custom everything.”

Jess found herself studying him as he spoke, noting how his hands punctuated each point, how his deep voice resonated with authority. The conversation flowed easily as Bob shared more stories from his years in the trades. He had a gift for storytelling, painting vivid pictures of challenging jobs and clever solutions. His tales were peppered with technical details that impressed Tom and human moments that interested Jess.

“There was one job,” Bob chuckled, “renovating an old Victorian mansion. Owner was this art collector, had millions in paintings hanging everywhere. We’re redoing the master bathroom, and my tile guy discovers this hidden area behind the wall. Inside? Letters from the 20s. Seems the original lady of the house was getting real friendly with the gardener.” He shook his head and chuckled. “Houses keep secrets, you know?”

As Bob rose to check on the steaks, Jess squeezed Tom’s hand and he squeezed back.

“You know,” Bob said, returning, “I appreciate you two listening to an old man ramble.”

“We’re enjoying it, Bob,” Jess said warmly, surprising herself with how much she meant it. “Really.”

“What about your line of work, Tom?” Bob asked, steering the conversation. “It’s interesting, though… your consulting work. Different problems and all. Still about fixing things, right?”

Tom nodded eagerly, the margaritas making him more expansive than usual. “Exactly! Right now, I’m working with this healthcare company, completely rebuilding their systems. Lots of moving parts, everything has to keep running while we make changes.”

“The human element’s always the trickiest part,” Bob observed. “Whether it’s getting an electrician to redo his work or convincing some suit their way isn’t working, it’s all about managing expectations.”

Jess watched the interplay between the two men with growing interest. Tom was clearly impressed by Bob’s practical knowledge and business acumen, while Bob seemed genuinely interested in Tom’s more theoretical approach to problem-solving.

“Speaking of managing expectations,” Bob turned to Jess, “must be a big part of your work too. Bet you get a lot of ‘I saw it on HGTV types’, huh?”

Jess laughed, surprised by his insight. “Oh god, yes. Everyone’s an expert these days. I had this client last month who insisted on putting a massive crystal chandelier in their farmhouse kitchen because they saw it on Instagram.”

“What did you do?” Bob’s attention was fully on her now.

“Convinced them to do a custom piece instead,” Jess explained as her obvious passion for design made her eyes almost sparkle. “Worked with this amazing local craftsman who made this beautiful fixture that actually fit the space. Clients need guidance to see what really works.”

“That’s the mark of a professional,” Bob nodded approvingly. “Not just giving them what they think they want but helping them discover what really works without making them feel stupid.”

The conversation continued to flow easily, touching on different aspects of their jobs. Tom shared stories about difficult clients and impossible deadlines while Jess described the challenges of managing client expectations. Bob listened attentively, occasionally offering insights from his years of experience that shed new light on their situations.

“We had this CEO once,” Tom laughed, “He insisted we could rebuild their entire system in two months and wouldn’t listen to reason. Finally, we had to walk him through every single step to show him why it would take at least six.”

“Sounds familiar,” Bob chuckled. “Rich folks always think throwing money at something makes it happen faster. Physics doesn’t work that way. Neither does proper craftsmanship.”

As the conversation pulled Tom in, his posture became more relaxed. Jess found herself laughing more freely, the initial awkwardness of having their new tenant join them dissolving. Even Bob seemed to have let down some of his guards as his stories became more personal and his laughter more frequent.

After just about an hour, Bob checked his watch. “Those steaks should be ready for the grill. Mind if I get started?”

“Please,” Tom replied. “Show us your expertise.”

Bob retrieved three ribeyes from the cooler, each thick enough to make Tom’s eyes widen. “Secret’s in the prep,” he explained, laying them on the grill. “Dry-aged and marinated in my special stuff.”

The sizzle of meat hitting hot metal filled the air as Bob worked his magic.

“Sarah had an eye for design,” Bob mused as he monitored the steaks. “She had that creative spark. Could have modeled too, had the looks for it. Agencies interested and everything.”

“Oh yeah?” Tom perked up. “Jess did some modeling back in the day. Didn’t you, babe? Those campaigns were something else.”

Bob’s eyes returned to Jess. “That so? Professional work?”

“Just local stuff during college,” she deflected. “Nothing serious.”

“Don’t be shy,” Tom insisted. “That shoot with Georgio was incredible. You should see those photos, Bob. My wife’s absolutely stunning.” Tom pulled out his phone, swiping through his gallery with clumsy enthusiasm. “Actually, the light’s perfect right now. We should take some pictures.”

“Tom!” Jess hissed, mortified. “Put the phone away. I haven’t modeled in years!”

“Come on, baby,” Tom persisted. “Just a few shots. You look amazing in that.”

“I’m not exactly camera-ready,” Jess protested, realizing her wet hair and lack of makeup. She shot a nervous glance at Bob, who maintained focus on his grill despite his obvious interest in the conversation.

“You’re gorgeous,” Tom declared. “Natural beauty, that’s what Georgio always said, right? No makeup needed.”

“That’s not...” Jess felt heat creep up her neck. “This isn’t appropriate, Tom. We barely know Bob.”

“I can make myself scarce,” Bob offered without looking up. “These need my attention anyway.”

“See? Bob doesn’t mind,” Tom stood unsteadily, phone already raised. “Just a few poses. Like the old days.”

“Tom, you’re drunk,” Jess said, but the familiar excitement was already building.

“Please? You used to love being photographed. Remember how alive it made you feel?”

Jess bit her lower lip, considering. The thrill of yesterday’s bathroom photoshoot flashed through her mind. That same electric energy was coursing through her veins now, amplified by the margaritas and Tom’s enthusiasm. She noticed that the afternoon sun was hitting the water at that angle photographers called golden hour.

“Fine,” she finally conceded, standing. “But just a few. And nothing provocative.” Even as she said it, she knew every pose would be inherently sensual. “And Bob, you don’t have to leave. Just... pretend we’re not being ridiculous.”

Bob’s low chuckle carried across the patio. “Trust me, I’ve seen plenty of ridiculous in my time. This ain’t even close.”

Jess took a deep breath, feeling the pre-shoot butterflies she thought she’d left behind years ago. The margaritas helped, but it was the old excitement returning, the thrill of being seen, of being captured.

“Ready when you are,” she said softly.

---

The impromptu photo shoot began innocently enough, with Tom holding up his phone as Jess walked to the edge near the pool steps. The margaritas had loosened her inhibitions enough to make the attention feel thrilling rather than uncomfortable.

“Come on, babe. Show me what you got,” Tom encouraged with an eager grin.

Jess felt a combination of nerves and excitement. The girl who once posed fearlessly, who commanded attention without shame felt like a different person. Now here she was, a respectable married woman, Mrs. Thomas Marshall, about to channel that same energy while her husband and new tenant watched.

“You’re so ridiculous,” she laughed, but found herself naturally falling into poses that felt like second nature. She sat at the pool’s edge, letting her legs dangle in the cool water. Leaning back on her hands, she tilted her head and offered a natural smile. The pose accentuated her long neck and toned arms while keeping everything tasteful.

“That’s it,” Tom encouraged. “God, you’re a natural at this. You just own the camera.”

She rolled to lie on her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows. Her feet crossed at the ankles and lifted playfully behind her, toes pointed like a ballet dancer. The position showed the roundness of her ass and made her legs look endless. Each pose felt like rediscovering a part of herself she’d forgotten existed.

As she moved through familiar poses, memories of her modeling days flooded back. The lights, the energy, the intoxicating feeling of being desired. She’d traded the excitement of being watched for the security of being loved.

By the grill, Bob maintained an air of indifference that fooled exactly no one. His hands moved the steaks with care, but his eyes kept finding their way back to Jess.

Jess shifted to her side and rested her head on her palm. In her mind, she could hear Georgio’s accented voice saying “yes, bella, hold that. Make them want what they cannot have.” She made every attempt to keep things tasteful, but despite it, her natural sensuality made every movement charged with unintended eroticism.

“Fuck, you’re incredible,” Tom breathed, his voice carrying a note of awe. “Still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“Need about ten minutes for these to rest properly,” Bob announced, arranging the grilled meat on a wooden cutting board. He covered the steaks loosely with foil and then he then grabbed another beer and settled onto the lounger. “Can’t rush perfection.”

An idea formed in Tom’s head. “Hey Bob,” he called out suddenly. His words carried the loose confidence of someone several drinks in. “You should take some shots too. Bet that phone’s got a better camera than mine.”

Jess’ heart skipped a beat.

Bob’s eyes moved between husband and wife, considering the offer. She could see him weighing the situation. “Wouldn’t want to intrude,” he said carefully.

“No, really,” Tom insisted. His eyes were bright with barely concealed excitement. “Come on, show us what you got.”

Bob pulled out his phone. His hands, so confident with tools, seemed almost clumsy with the device.

“Well,” Bob started. “Let’s see what we can do.”

Where Tom’s approach had been enthusiastic but amateur, Bob’s was ancient. He didn’t know about fancy angles or composition, but he knew what looked good. Years of commanding job sites had also given him an understanding of how to direct people. His directions were simple and direct.

“Turn around,” he commanded. The same voice that had directed countless construction crews now focused entirely on positioning Jess’ body. “Now look back over your shoulder.”

Jess complied. She could feel both men’s eyes on her, Tom’s eager and excited, Bob’s unreadable but unwavering.

“You know what would look great?” Tom suggested, his voice carrying an edge of excitement. “If you got in the water again. The way that suit looks when it’s wet...”

The suggestion sent heat flooding through Jess’s core. She knew how the swimsuit would reveal more than it concealed. This was their tenant, a virtual stranger, and proper boundaries needed to be maintained, she told herself. But beneath that proper façade, that wild creature inside her had never really gone away. It just lay dormant, waiting for moments like this to resurface.

“Why not?” she heard herself say. Her voice carried a sense of defiance against her better judgment. Without hesitation, she slipped into the pool, gasping as the cool water embraced her. When she surfaced, she pushed her wet hair back, recreating one of her old modeling poses.

“Holy fuck,” Tom breathed, forgetting the phone in his hand as he stared at his wife.

Bob kept shooting, though his hands weren’t quite steady. “Come up the steps,” he ordered. “Slow.”

Jess complied, knowing exactly how the water would cascade down her body. She emerged from the pool like Venus rising from the sea. Each step was deliberate. Her toned legs carried her upward as water streamed down her body. She paused at the top of the steps, letting both men drink in the sight of her.

“Just one more,” Bob’s deep voice commanded. “Hands in your hair, arch your back, look up at the sky.”

The pose was deceptively simple yet devastatingly effective. As Jess raised her arms to run her fingers through her wet hair, her back arched naturally, pushing her chest forward and her ass out behind her. With her face tilted up toward the setting sun, water droplets traced paths down her throat and between her breasts. The wet material might as well have been painted on, hiding nothing of her form.

“Christ almighty,” Tom muttered.

Even Bob seemed to forget about photographing. His phone lowered slightly as he stared. The pose transformed Jess from beautiful woman to living fantasy, a siren emerged from the depths to tempt mortal men to their doom.

“Steaks are ready,” Bob announced suddenly. His deep voice cutting through the charged atmosphere. “Let me get everything,” he said before disappearing into his unit.

The spell broke. Jess felt reality crash back like a cold wave, leaving her breathless. She grabbed her towel, wrapping it around herself like armor. Her mind raced with the knowledge that Bob now possessed dozens of photos of her looking like every man’s fantasy come to life. What kind of respectable wife lets another man photograph her like that?

Tom pulled her close as they walked to their outdoor dining table. He whispered hotly in her ear, “You were so fucking incredible. I can’t believe I’m married to the hottest woman on the planet.”

They settled beside each other on one of the long benches that flanked the rectangular table, choosing spots that gave them a view of the pool. The matching benches could easily seat five people each, though tonight only three total spots would be occupied.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” Jess whispered back. Her cheeks flushed as she adjusted her towel. “Bob probably thinks we’re crazy.”

“Are you kidding?” Tom leaned close. “Did you see how he could barely keep his eyes off you? Even a man his age knows beauty when he sees it.”

The pride in his voice confused her. Shouldn’t he be jealous? Instead, he seemed almost thrilled by Bob’s obvious appreciation.

Bob came back outside carrying a weathered wooden box. From it, he produced sturdy white plates, well-worn but quality silverware that spoke of years of use, and a pack of paper napkins. A bottle of cabernet, not expensive but carefully chosen, completed the meal.

“Let me help with that,” Tom offered, starting to rise, but Bob waved him off.

“Just sit and relax, you two,” Bob insisted. He made quick work of setting the table. There was nothing fancy about his setup but there was an efficiency to his movements.

The steaks arrived on a simple wooden cutting board, seared with textbook grill marks. As Bob served each portion, the aroma made their mouths water.

Bob then twisted the cap off the wine bottle. “Nothing fancy,” he said as he poured the dark liquid generously. “To new beginnings,” he proposed, raising his glass. The toast was simple and direct, much like the man himself.

“To new beginnings,” Tom and Jess echoed, lifting their own glasses.

Tom and Jess fell into comfortable silence as they savored their first bites of steak. The meat was expertly cooked, pink and juicy in the center with a beautifully seasoned crust.

“This is incredible,” Jess murmured after her first bite, the flavors exploding in her mouth.

“Timing’s everything,” Bob explained, carving into his steak, the meat parting effortlessly under his knife to reveal a medium-rare center. “Too many people rush it,” he continued as his eyes moved between husband and wife. “You’ve got to let the meat rest, let the juices redistribute. Patience makes all the difference.”

“What’s in the marinade?” she asked.

“Family secret,” Bob replied with a wink.

“Speaking of incredible,” Tom said as his hand found Jess’s thigh under the table, “You’ve got quite an eye for photography, Bob.”

“Had a good subject,” Bob replied matter-of-factly. “Reminds me of Sarah in her younger days. She had that same natural grace in front of the camera.”

“You mentioned she wanted to model?” Jess asked, partly to deflect attention from herself and partly out of genuine curiosity.

“Yeah, had the looks for it too. But I was old-fashioned back then, didn’t want my wife on display.” Bob took a long drink of wine. “Different times. Looking back, maybe I should’ve let her pursue it. Might’ve kept her happier.”

“It can be quite liberating,” Jess found herself saying. The wine had loosened her tongue. “When I was modeling, it wasn’t just about being looked at. It was about owning your presence.”

“You certainly owned it today,” Bob’s voice carried a note of appreciation. “That last pose especially. Reminded me of those classic pin-up shots.”

“God yes,” Tom agreed enthusiastically as his fingers tightened on her thigh. “It was like something out of a movie.”

“I’m sure photos came out well,” Jess said before she cut into another piece.

Throughout dinner, Tom found himself unable to resist touching Jess at every opportunity. When passing the wine bottle, his fingers brushed against hers. Their legs pressed together beneath the table. His hand kept finding its way to her thigh, fingers tracing patterns on her skin. She kept her face neutral but her breath hitched when his fingers crept higher, brushing dangerous territory while they maintained polite conversation with Bob.

They finished their meals quickly, the conversation staying safely focused on home improvement projects and maintenance tips.

Bob stood up and gathered his things, placing his items back in his box. “Thank you for a lovely evening,” he said. “We should make this a regular thing.”

“The steaks were incredible,” Tom replied. “We’ll definitely have to do this again soon.”

“Thank you for dinner,” Jess agreed. “Best I’ve had in years.”

When Bob disappeared into his unit, Tom’s control finally snapped. The tension from watching his wife pose had wound him tight as a spring. He pulled Jess against him. “Upstairs,” he growled in her ear with a needy voice. “Right now.”

They barely made it to their bedroom before Tom had her pinned against the wall. His mouth found her neck as his hands yanked at the towel wrapped around her. The terrycloth fell away to reveal her still-damp swimsuit underneath.

“Do you have any idea what you did to me out there?” Tom’s voice was hoarse as his hands explored her body. “Watching you pose like that… you looked like a fucking goddess…”

Jess melted into Tom’s touch but responsibility nagged at her. “Wait,” she managed, pushing against his chest. “We should clean up first. Can you grab the margarita pitcher and glasses from outside? And maybe check if we left anything else out there?”

“Fuck it,” said Tom, trying to pull her back. “I’ll do it tomorrow.”

“I don’t want Bob to think we’re careless slobs who can’t even clean up after ourselves,” Jess insisted. “We’re his landlords. We need to set a good example.”

Tom groaned in frustration but nodded. “You’re right.” He pressed his forehead against hers and chuckled softly. “Always the practical one, aren’t you? Even when you’re driving me absolutely fucking crazy.”

“You handle the backyard while I clean up in here?” she suggested.

“Such a responsible landlady,” Tom teased, stealing another kiss. His eyes swept over her body one more time, remembering how she’d posed under Bob’s direction. His obvious arousal tented his swim trunks as he turned toward the balcony door.

“Don’t take too long,” she called after Tom, her voice carrying a promise. “I’m not done with you yet.”

---

Tom descended the wooden stairs into the warm evening air, as his mind raced with images of Jess waiting. Their renewed intimacy felt precious, fragile somehow. What should have been a quick chore felt like torture, keeping him from her warmth.

Approaching the patio table to gather their abandoned drinks, a sliver of light caught his attention. Through a gap in Bob’s blinds, the glow of a laptop screen illuminated the interior.

Through the narrow opening, Tom could see Bob seated at his desk. The older man had stripped off his polo shirt, revealing a broad chest covered in hair that trailed down his solid belly. Bob had his cargo shorts open and shoved down his thick thighs. His meaty hand moved up and down, up and down. Tom froze in place when he realized what he was witnessing.

“Jesus Christ,” Tom mouthed. His stomach churned with a nauseating mix of disgust and fascination.

In his hand, Bob gripped what had to be the most impressive cock Tom had ever seen. The thing had to be at least eight or nine inches, and Bob’s hand just barely encircled its impressive girth. It looked heavy, with a pronounced upward curve designed to hit spots most men could only dream of. The huge mushroom head glistened with precum and his heavy, low-hanging balls completed the package, swaying with each stroke, promising copious loads.

Tom had seen his share of porn, but this was different. This was real, happening mere feet away. Tom knew he should look away, to preserve some semblance of normalcy in their landlord-tenant relationship, yet his feet remained glued to the spot, eyes fixed on the display in front of him.

The laptop screen reflected clearly in the window glass. Tom’s pulse thundered in his ears as he recognized their poolside photos displayed on the screen. His wife, his beautiful Jessica Marshall, was captured in moments of unconscious sensuality. Bob scrolled the images slowly, zooming in on certain shots like her hardened nipples beneath the suit and the curve of her ass as she emerged from the water. Each image seemed to fuel Bob’s arousal.

Tom thought of all the times he’d caught other men staring at Jess but this was different. This wasn’t just a glance of appreciation from afar, this was carnal, animal lust. Bob was actively fantasizing about her, stroking himself to thoughts of her.

Bob’s breathing grew heavier as his strokes became more purposeful. The mushroom head had grown even darker, veins pulsing along the shaft as he worked himself closer to release. Tom could see Bob’s mouth moving, muttering to himself as he stared at photos of Jess’s body on display.

Tom’s mind screamed that he should feel outraged, violated even. He should storm in there, demand Bob delete the photos and evict him immediately. That’s what any self-respecting husband would do.

Instead, his imagination betrayed him with vivid scenarios. He saw Jess on her knees, her delicate hands wrapped around its girth, her wedding ring glinting as she stretched her mouth obscenely wide to attempt taking that cock down her throat, so different from how easily she could swallow his average length.

“That’s right,” Bob growled. “Show me that perfect body, princess...”

The word ‘princess’ hit Tom like a slap to the face. Bob was already casually claiming ownership of Jess, even in fantasy.

Bob’s broad chest started rising and falling as he worked himself towards the edge. Tom watched in stunned fascination as Bob shuddered and his cock began to pulse. The first rope of cum shot straight up before landing on his hairy chest. The second and third spurts painted his belly.

His loads decreased in intensity but remained impressive, a fourth load added to the mess on his torso. Bob’s face was contorted in pleasure. “Fuck yeah, princess,” he growled between harsh pants, his voice deep with satisfaction.

The fifth and final load oozed from his mushroom tip, dripping down his shaft as Bob slowly came down from his intense climax. His eyes were half-lidded now.

Tom had never seen anything like it. The sheer volume was staggering and made his own orgasms seem pitiful in comparison. This was something primal and animalistic, the kind of virile display that spoke to something deep in human nature that polite society pretended didn’t exist.

There was also something intensely intimate about witnessing another man’s moment of release, especially someone like Bob. The older man’s usual gruff demeanor had dissolved into pure animal pleasure, leaving him exposed in a way that crossed boundaries that should never be breached. Yet Tom couldn’t tear his eyes away from Bob’s massive cock or the impressive evidence of his potency coating his torso.

The wrongness of it all twisted in Tom’s gut. This was their tenant, a man who would live beneath them and share their pool. How could he ever look Bob in the eye again, knowing he’d watched him in such an intimate moment, knowing Bob had been fantasizing about his wife while bringing himself to such an intense climax?

Tom forced himself to move, disgusted with his voyeurism yet undeniably aroused. He grabbed the pitcher and glasses from the table with trembling hands, nearly dropping them. The ice clinked loudly, making him freeze in panic, but Bob seemed too engrossed in his activities to notice. Tom fled back upstairs, taking the steps two at a time.

Tom burst through their bedroom door while his heart hammered so hard he could almost feel it in his throat. The sight that greeted him nearly brought him to his knees.

Jess lay sprawled on their king-sized bed with her back arched to thrust her breasts upward. Her hands squeezed them through the delicate black lace. The babydoll barely contained her, riding up to expose the tiny matching thong beneath, while her golden hair fanned out across the white pillows. Her legs were slightly spread, one bent at the knee in an invitation that made her intentions crystal clear.

“Took you long enough,” she purred, her voice carrying that teasing tone he loved. Her expression changed as she studied his face, catching something in his eyes that made her own narrow with curiosity. “Babe… is everything okay?”

“Everything’s great,” he managed, practically tearing off his shirt and swim trunks in his haste to get to her.

He descended on her with passionate kisses that held no restraint, devouring her mouth like a man starved. His hands roamed her body, roughly pushing the flimsy fabric up to expose more of her skin, not caring if the delicate material tore. Bob’s words from moments ago echoed in his mind, fueling his desperate need. “Show me that perfect body, princess,” he growled, using Bob’s words.

The words felt foreign on his tongue, dirty somehow, knowing where he’d heard it. But the way Jess shivered beneath him told him she liked it, even if she didn’t know its true source.

“Someone’s eager,” Jess gasped between kisses, responding to his intensity with matching passion. “What’s gotten into you?”

Her question only seemed to drive him to greater intensity. “Just can’t get enough of you,” Tom replied, breathing heavy. “You have no idea what you do to men... to me...” The knowledge of Bob stroking himself to her photos made his words carry a deeper meaning that Jess couldn’t possibly understand.

Her hands found his shoulders, manicured nails dragging lightly across his skin as she felt the tension radiating through his muscles. She could sense something different in his touch, something almost feral in his need to possess her.

Tom latched onto her exposed nipple, teeth grazing the sensitive peak before sucking hard enough to make her cry out. He alternated between gentle nibbles and rough suction, drawing whimpers from her throat. The slight pain sent lightning bolts of pleasure straight to her core.

“Someone’s feeling wild tonight,” she managed between moans. “Not that I’m complaining...” Her voice broke on a particularly sharp bite that made her whole body jerk.

All he could think about was what he saw downstairs. He opened his mouth but the confession stuck in his throat, heavy with implications. How could he admit that directly beneath them, their older tenant had stroked himself to orgasm staring at photos of Jess’s wet body? And worse yet, he was as turned on as he’d ever been. The words died on his lips. Instead, his tongue invaded her mouth and his fingers traveled between her legs.

Through her panties, he felt arousal coating his fingers. “Fuck, you’re soaked,” he said, his voice desperate. His fingers traced her slit through the wet fabric, feeling her parted pussy lips.

Jess squirmed under him and her hands clawed at his back. Her hips rolled against his hand, trying to increase the sensation where she needed it most. “Please,” she begged. “Fuck me, baby.”

Tom’s fingers hooked into her panties and practically tore them off her body. His fingers found her wet entrance, two digits plunging inside her roughly as his thumb circled her clit.

“So fucking wet… tell me how bad you want it,” he demanded, curling his fingers to find that sensitive spot inside her that made her see stars.

“So bad,” Jess moaned as her hips bucked against his hand. “Please, baby... I need you... need your cock...”

In one fluid motion, Tom flipped her onto her hands and knees. Jess immediately arched her back and pushed her magnificent ass up invitingly, already knowing the perfect angle.

From her very first fumbling sexual encounters, she’d loved being taken from behind in doggy. She loved the deep penetration and especially how submissive and vulnerable it made her feel. There was something intoxicating about presenting herself like an offering, surrendering completely to a man’s desires.

“Please,” she whimpered, wiggling her hips in a way that made her ass jiggle. Her movements were calculated yet natural, drawing on years of experience in teasing and tempting. “Fuck me... want to feel every inch of you...”

Tom gripped his shaft, rubbing the swollen head through her slick folds to coat himself in her arousal. When he finally pushed inside, her pussy parted easily. They both groaned at the exquisite feeling of him filling her.

Tom quickly established a punishing pace, each powerful thrust making her ass ripple from the impact. Jess pushed back to meet every stroke, taking him as deep as possible while her fingers clawed at the sheets beneath them.

“Harder!” Jess cried out, her voice breaking with need. “Oh god, fuck me harder!”

“Such a good girl, such a perfect princess” he panted, driving into her with intensity.

Jess’s arms soon gave out under his assault and her face pressed into the mattress, ass still raised high as Tom continued to ruthlessly pound her.

The bed frame started to protest loudly beneath them, its rhythmic creaking accompanied by the headboard thumping against the wall. Sweat dripped down Tom’s back as he maintained his pace. His thighs started burning from exertion.

“Tom, wait,” Jess gasped, twisting to look back at him with concern in her eyes. “We need to slow down... Bob’s right below us, he’ll hear everythi-”

“Let him hear,” Tom growled, gripping her hips tighter. “I want him to hear what I do to you.”

“No, seriously,” Jess insisted. Her voice was firmer now as she pulled away. “He’s right below us.” Her cheeks flushed with genuine mortification at the thought of their tenant listening to their passionate coupling.

The momentary pause gave Tom a chance to catch his breath.

Jess turned around to face him, pushing him onto his back. “Here,” she whispered, “let me take care of you another way.” Her hand wrapped around his shaft, still slick with her juices. “This will be quieter.”

Jess’s mouth enveloped him and her tongue swirled around the head of his cock. She knew exactly how to use her tongue, how to vary pressure, when to focus on his sensitive head and when to take him deep.

As Jess bobbed her head, taking him deeper, Tom’s imagination betrayed him. He pictured Bob’s massive meat stretching Jess’s lips wide as he received the same treatment. Would she even be able to handle something that thick? The mental image sent electricity through his body. He imagined Bob’s gruff voice praising her efforts, calling her his ‘princess’.

Jess swirled her tongue around his sensitive head once again before swallowing him whole. One hand massaged his balls while the other stroked his shaft in time with her mouth’s movements. After a few minutes of her expert oral attention, Tom couldn’t take anymore. He needed to be inside her again. “Turn around,” he commanded hoarsely. “Wanna fuck you.”

Jess gave his cock one final lick from base to tip before turning and presenting her ass, ready to continue where they’d left off.

This time Tom tried to find a gentler rhythm that wouldn’t broadcast their activities so blatantly. “How’s this?” he asked through gritted teeth. Each careful thrust still made her moan softly, but at lease the bed had stopped its creaking.

“Better,” Jess sighed, pushing back to meet his controlled strokes. She reached down to circle her clit, chasing her own pleasure now that the fear of being overheard had diminished. “Just like that, baby... god, you feel so good inside me.”

Tom’s pace became its own exquisite torture. Each thrust allowed him to feel her around him. The bed remained quiet, but Jess’s soft moans grew more frequent as her fingers worked her clit with increasing urgency.

“So good,” he grunted, watching his cock drive in and out of her. He could sense she was getting closer, and she confirmed it just seconds later.

“I’m so close,” she moaned. Her movements became more desperate as she chased her release. “Don’t stop... right there... just like that... fuck, I’m gonna cum… I’m gonna cum on your cock!”

Her words pushed Tom dangerously close to the point of no return. The sight of his gorgeous wife working herself closer to orgasm while he maintained that torturously controlled pace was almost more than he could bear.

“Gonna cum,” Jess moaned as her fingers moved frantically against her clit. “Oh god, Tom... I’m gonna cum so hard!”

The flutter of her inner walls around his cock destroyed the last of his control. Tom’s hips snapped forward harder and harder, making Jess bite down on the pillow to muffle her cries.

The memory of Bob’s massive cock spurting those impressive loads fueled his frenzy, making him want to mark his territory, to prove his own virility even if his output would pale in comparison. Her pussy felt like heaven, gripping him perfectly, and the combination of physical pleasure with the forbidden images in his mind pushed him past the point of reason.

“Inside,” he demanded through gritted teeth as his own orgasm approached. “Want to fill this pussy up...”

“We shouldn’t,” Jess protested weakly, even as her body clenched around him. “Not safe...” But her actions contradicted her concerns as she pushed her ass back harder against him, taking him deeper.

The risk only heightened their shared pleasure as they orgasmed together. Jess’s pussy clamped down hard as she came, milking his cock as Tom exploded and pumped hot cum into his wife’s spasming pussy.

Tom’s hips continued to move with shallow, restrained thrusts savoring the aftershocks of their shared orgasm. His teeth clenched with the effort of maintaining control as pleasure rippled through him. He fought to prolong the final precious moments joined together, each gentle thrust sending shivers down his spine as her pussy continued to milk his sensitive cock.

They finally collapsed together onto the mattress, Tom’s weight pressing Jess into the sheets as they both struggled to catch their breath, sweaty and spent. His softening cock slipped from her well-fucked pussy, followed immediately by a thick glob of cum that leaked onto their sheets.

Their breathing gradually returned to normal as Tom rolled to his side, pulling Jess against his chest. He’d cum harder than he could ever remember, his whole body still tingling from the intensity of his release.

Yet even as satisfaction washed over him, an unwanted image flashed through his mind: Bob’s massive cock erupting, painting his chest and belly in volume that made Tom’s output seem pathetic in comparison. Where Tom had managed to leak a small puddle onto their sheets, Bob had covered himself like icing on a cake.

His eyes traced the cum running down Jess’s inner thigh. What would it look like if it was Bob’s load leaking from her instead? Would it flow like a river rather than this trickle? The thought filled him with a confusing mix of inadequacy and arousal.

“You really filled me up,” Jess said, her tone playful but eyes wide. “Like, seriously filled me up. I can literally feel it swimming around in there.” She moved her hand to her flat stomach, perhaps already imagining it swelling with their child.

Her words sent a wave of panic through Tom. “Shit, you’re right,” he replied, reality crashing back. “I’m sorry, I got carried away. I wasn’t thinking straight.” He wasn’t just apologizing for the creampie anymore, he was apologizing for the forbidden thoughts that had driven him to such reckless abandon.

“We both did.” She sat up carefully, causing more of his cum to drip down her thigh. The sight was both erotic and slightly alarming. “I should probably clean up. Maybe get Plan B tomorrow? Unless...” She bit her lip and contemplated their situation, their dreams, their future together. “Unless we want to risk it? I mean, we do want kids eventually...”

Tom stared at the wet spot darkening their sheets, evidence of his loss of control. He thought of the implications, considered their financial situation, their careers, the timing. “It’s your choice,” he said finally, reaching out to trace his fingers along her spine. “But maybe... maybe we let fate decide this one?”

She smiled, leaning to kiss him tenderly before carefully standing. “I’m going to clean up now.” She gestured at the trails of cum marking her thighs. “But... maybe we skip the Plan B. What happens, happens?” Her words carried both excitement and nervous energy.

She made her way to their bathroom with care while his cum continued to leak from her pussy.

In the bedroom, Tom lay back against their pillows, processing everything that had happened. As his post-orgasmic haze began to fade, post-nut clarity came crashing as his rational mind reasserted control. What the fuck had he just done? He’d gotten so worked up watching their tenant cum to photos of his wife that he’d filled her unprotected pussy with cum. He’d practically put on a show for Bob, letting their bed frame broadcast their activities while entertaining fantasies about his wife struggling to accommodate their tenant’s impressive equipment.

The worst part? It felt so good. He felt simultaneously guilty and aroused, ashamed and satisfied. His body felt relaxed after of one of the most intense orgasms he’d ever experienced, yet his mind tortured him with questions about what kind of husband gets off on another man lusting after his wife.

But most of all, he felt closer to her than ever before. Their intimacy had reached new heights, driven by forces he was only beginning to understand. Laying there in the aftermath, listening to the soft sounds of her cleaning herself in the bathroom, Tom realized their relationship had shifted into uncharted territory. There would be no going back.

And here's Chapter 3!

---

Jess woke up Sunday morning nestled against Tom’s frame. His arm lay heavy across her waist and his fingers splayed over her flat stomach where their potential child might already be growing. She lay still, cherishing the rare quiet. There were no buzzing text messages or calendar reminders, just birds chirping outside and the sound of Tom’s deep breathing behind her.

When she shifted her hips to find a more comfortable position, she felt it, the unmistakable bump of Tom’s morning wood pressing against her ass. A wicked smile curved her lips. Sunday mornings usually meant pancakes drizzled in maple syrup but today she craved a different breakfast.

Moving carefully to avoid waking him, Jess gently pushed Tom onto his back. She then hooked her fingers into the waistband of his boxers and tugged them down just enough to free his cock.

She then positioned herself between his thighs wearing nothing but the tiny black lace panties she’d put on last night. She stretched out on her elbows and stomach, feet crossed at the ankles and swaying playfully in the air. This was her domain, where she wielded absolute power with her lips and tongue and skill. Her hand wrapped around his cock, holding him steady as she leaned forward.

Starting at the seam just above his balls, she dragged her tongue up his entire length in one wet stroke. When she reached the tip, her tongue swirled around the ridge, collecting the first beads of precum. The familiar taste of him, salt and musk and something uniquely Tom, made her moan around him as she took him fully into her mouth.

Tom’s fingers found her silky hair before his eyes fully opened. “Fuck, Jess,” he groaned as Jess hollowed her cheeks and applied suction. “Keep doing that thing with your tongue...”

Jess happily obeyed, rubbing her tongue against his frenulum, the ultra-sensitive spot that often had him twitching and bucking his hips. She worked it with the flat of her tongue before taking him deeper, not stopping until her nose nestled in the coarse hair at his base. Through her lashes, she watched how his jaw clenched and brow furrowed, the vein in his temple pulsing.

“Holy fuck,” he gasped as his fingers tightened in her hair.

She released him with a pop and offered a smile as her lips glistened with saliva. “Good morning, handsome,” she purred. Her tongue darted out to catch more precum leaking from his tip before eagerly swallowed him again.

Jess’ technique was flawless, refined through years of exploration and a natural talent for reading her partner’s responses. She alternated between sucking and slurping, varying pressure and speed with the expertise of a virtuoso. One hand cradled his balls while the other stroked his shaft in counterpoint to her bobbing head, creating pleasure that had his toes curling.

Tom watched Jess closely. The wet, obscene sounds of her mouth mixed with his ragged breathing filled their bedroom. His mind drifted, not to the sensation, but to the mystery that had always nagged at him: where had she learned to suck cock like this?

He’d never directly asked but he’d always wondered about the lucky bastards who’d helped her develop these skills. His mind drifted to what she’d told him about her past lovers.

Michael, her high school sweetheart, couldn’t have taught her this. Jess had described their innocent explorations, how they’d fumbled through sex together, neither really knowing what they were doing.

Then there was Nate, her first serious college boyfriend, the fitness freak who’d shaped Jess’s body consciousness. She’d kept the sexual details wrapped in vague descriptions. An “active sex life” was all she’d offered before adding the Valentine’s Day gut-punch of finding him balls-deep in another woman.

Then finally Marco, the basketball player, the “brief rebound” she’d mentioned with dismissive casualness. Tom’s gut told him there was more meat on those bones, stories untold, nights unaccounted for.

He imagined a younger Jess, still finding herself, still learning the tricks of her trade. He imagined her on her knees before some faceless man, being coached through suppressing her gag reflex, discovering the pressure of tongue, mastering the vacuum seal of lips that now transported him to another dimension.

His imagination went to the possibility of hidden experiences, of unnamed men and secret encounters that contributed to her expertise. Instead of jealousy, these thoughts only fueled his arousal.

Though he’d never admit it, part of him hated how easily she took his entire length, going balls deep without any strain. He fantasized about being thick enough to stretch those lips wide, long enough to make her gag and make her eyes water when she tried to swallow him whole.

He remembered last night, how Bob’s massive cock flashed in his mind while she went down on him. The same thoughts continued to occupy his mind. How would she handle something that size? Would she struggle?

“Fuck, princess...” The word escaped before he could catch it.

Jess’s throat tightened around him briefly before she pulled back, releasing his cock from her mouth.

“You said that yesterday too, and you don’t usually call me that,” she observed, her tone casual but eyes sharp.

“Just felt right. Uh… you don’t like it?”

“No, I do,” she said thoughtfully, her hand still stroking him. “It’s just… different.” She punctuated her words by swallowing him again in one smooth motion.

“Oh fuck, babe…”

Jess could feel him getting close from the way his breathing changed and the way his balls tightened in her hand. She doubled her efforts, bobbing her head faster while maintaining suction.

“Gonna cum,” Tom warned. “So fucking close.”

When his orgasm hit, it was with an intensity that had him arching off the mattress. Jess took everything he offered, swallowing eagerly as her hands milked his shaft and massaged his balls. Only when she was certain she’d extracted every drop did she release him with a final, loving kiss to his sensitive tip.

“Jesus,” Tom panted, collapsing back against the pillows. “What brought that on?”

Jess slithered up his body and settled against his chest, her cheek pressed to his racing heart. “Just wanted to show my husband how much I appreciate him,” she murmured “And maybe remind him what he’s got waiting at home after work.”

As their breathing steadied, Jess lazily traced the faint scar on Tom’s shoulder, a remnant from a college intramural football injury. “I can’t believe how amazing this weekend’s been,” she mused. “If we keep this up, I might need a wheelchair. My legs feel like jelly.”

Tom’s arms tightened around her. “Sorry if I was too rough,” he said softly. “I just couldn’t help myself.”

“Don’t apologize,” she said smiling, trailing her fingers down his chest. “I loved every second of it. Just... maybe we take it a little easier for the next few days?” Her hand moved to her stomach. “Especially since we might have started something life changing last night.”

Tom’s hand covered hers, their fingers intertwining. “Any regrets? About not using protection?”

“No,” Jess replied after a thoughtful pause. “I mean, we’ve been talking about starting a family. Maybe this is the universe telling us it’s time.” She bit her lip. “What about you? Second thoughts?”

“None,” Tom assured her.

The tender moment shattered as Bob’s power tools roared to life below them. Jess tensed. “He’s certainly… enthusiastic about home improvement.”

Tom scowled at the ceiling. “Probably rebuilding the entire fucking kitchen.”

“Speaking of Bob,” Jess propped herself up to look at Tom. “Those photos you two took yesterday... I looked professional, right? Not... too much?” Her voice carried a hint of uncertainty, as if seeking reassurance while simultaneously aware of how provocative the images had been.

Tom remembered exactly how revealing the wet fabric had been. If she only knew what Bob had done with those photos... “You looked incredible,” he said instead. “Like a Victoria’s Secret model… but better.”

“You’re hopelessly biased,” she laughed, playfully swatting his chest. “But thank you. It felt good, actually. Reminded me of my modeling days. But I probably shouldn’t have let things get quite so... provocative. Bob probably thinks we’re crazy.”

“I’m sure he was impressed,” he managed, the understatement of the year given what he’d witnessed.

“We should probably get up,” Jess murmured. “I want to get groceries done before it gets packed. We should probably hit the shower first.”

“You’re right. Shower sounds good.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Want company?”

Jess smiled as she moved. “Always,” she replied, stretching as she stood. “But just washing,” she added with a playful but firm tone. “I’m not kidding about being sore.”

---

An hour after breakfast, Tom pushed their cart through Whole Foods following a few steps behind Jess, watching the sway of her hypnotic hips as she prowled the aisles. The heat had forced a practical wardrobe choice, a light-yellow sundress that danced around her thighs with each step and showcased her toned shoulders and the slope of her collarbone. She had her blonde hair pulled back in a careless bun that somehow made her more appealing than if she’d spent an hour styling it.

A pair of young moms pushing a stroller did a double take as Jess passed, their envious glances on her seemingly endless legs. Their matching athleisure outfits and fresh blowouts suddenly seemed inadequate next to Jess’ natural radiance. Their synchronized head turn to watch her pass would have been comical if it wasn’t so predictable.

Looking at his wife, a wave of gratitude washed over him. With her looks and charm, she could have easily chosen an easier path, any life she wanted. There were plenty of wealthy men who would have kept her dripping in luxury, pampered in penthouses with endless credit cards and daily spa treatments. Tech billionaires, hedge fund managers, and real estate moguls would have fought for the chance to shower her with diamonds and designer everything. She could have been sunbathing on some Mediterranean yacht right now instead of doing grocery runs in suburban Austin.

Or she could have capitalized on her looks in other ways. With her face and body, she could easily have been an Instagram influencer or OnlyFans model, raking in more monthly subscriber money than his annual salary.

Instead, she chose this life with him. She chose early morning alarms, client meetings, grocery shopping on the weekends, and building something together from the ground up. She chose love over luxury, partnership over pampering. Even after his cryptocurrency disaster, she stayed, working alongside him to rebuild their savings. The thought filled Tom with equal parts guilt and gratitude. He loved her to death.

Jess paused at the organic produce aisle, her manicured fingers hovering over a rainbow of bell peppers. “We need three for the stir fry,” she mused. Her brow furrowed as she began inspecting each vegetable, testing for firmness, checking for blemishes.

“What do you think, babe?” Jess turned to Tom holding up two nearly identical specimens.

“Whatever makes you happy,” he replied, earning that eye roll he secretly loved.

“You could at least pretend to care about what we eat,” she teased, bagging the peppers.

“Oh, I care,” he replied, stepping close to kiss her temple. “I care about how sexy you look when you’re being all domestic.”

“Such a shameless flatterer,” she accused, smiling. “We need to hit the seafood counter before the lunch crowd.”

They hadn’t made it halfway there before some poor bastard pushing a stroller nearly took out an entire display of garbanzo beans, his neck craning like a cartoon character as Jess passed. Tom couldn’t blame him. He remembered that feeling of first seeing Jess across a crowded room six years ago.

At the seafood counter, Jess’s presence commanded immediate attention. “Wild-caught Alaskan, please. No...” Her nose wrinkled at the offered fillet. “The deeper pink one there. Yes, that one. Thank you.”

As they moved around the store, their cart filled steadily with organic food, grass fed this, and free range that. The snack aisle brought their playful conflict to the surface.

“Will this pass inspection?” Tom asked, placing jalapeño chips in their cart with feigned ignorance.

“Tom, no. Absolutely not.” Jess plucked the jalapeño chips from their cart. “We’ve been over this. These have MSG and artificial coloring. They’re basically poison in a bag.”

“Delicious poison. Exactly why they’re perfect for crunch time.” Tom countered, already well aware he wasn’t winning this.

Jess held up two options like a prosecutor with damning evidence. “Organic corn chips or quinoa puffs. Choose.”

“They taste like cardboard.”

“Then I’ll make guac to dip them in. Extra garlic, just how you like.”

Tom’s resistance crumbled like always. This was their dance, her health crusades softened by acts of service. He grabbed the corn chips. “You fight dirty.”

“Only because I love you,” she replied, rising on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

Near checkout, Jess paused at a display of dark chocolate. Her fingers hovered over a bar with orange infusion, his favorite. Without comment, she added it to their haul. The gesture struck him. Other men saw the trophy wife, a former model with a gorgeous face and a body to die for. To Tom her beauty was the least interesting thing about her.

Their items told the story of their different approaches to food. Jess’s selections were all organic, with minimal ingredients. Tom’s contributions consisted mainly of snacks and prepared foods that made her roll her eyes affectionately.

“One of these days,” she said, arranging their items on the belt, “I’ll get you to care about what you put in your body.”

“You care enough for both of us,” he replied, wrapping an arm around her waist.

As they were loading the paper bags into the trunk, Tom caught another shopper openly staring at his wife. The man quickly looked away when Tom met his gaze but the appreciation in his eyes had been unmistakable.

The drive home was quiet and comfortable in the way only long-term couples know. Jess hummed softly to whatever was playing on the Tesla’s sound system while Tom’s mind wandered to the parade of admirers they’d encountered. It was always like this with her. She rarely ever tried to be alluring. That was the maddening part. It was effortless. Wherever they went, eyes followed Jess.

It used to drive him crazy, that constant male attention. Back in their early days, every bar and night club felt like a battlefield. Men would materialize from everywhere, armed with cheesy pickup lines and overpriced drinks. “Haven’t we met before?” “What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” The words didn’t matter. Their hands did, always testing boundaries, finding reasons to brush her arm, to touch the small of her back, to settle on her hips. Some would even try to squeeze between them on the dance floor as if Tom was just some inconvenient obstacle rather than her boyfriend.

But now, four years into marriage, he found himself imagining scenarios that would have made his younger self throw punches. What if Jess didn’t deflect advances? What if she let a man buy her a drink? What if, just once, she let a man leave his hand on her waist?

The fantasies grew bolder each time he revisited them. He could see it clearly: some nameless man, good-looking but not too good-looking, confident in that easy way that Tom had never mastered. The stranger’s hands would find Jess’s waist in a crowded club, and instead of moving away, she would stay.

Tom would be across the room, watching. Not intervening, just observing as those hands drifted lower, cupping the perfect ass that Tom believed belonged only to him. His mouth would go dry. His heart would hammer against his ribcage like it wanted out.

His cock, the traitor that it was, stirred at the thought, hardening against his zipper as the fantasy unfurled further in his mind. What if she turned in the stranger’s arms? What if she pressed herself against him, breast to chest? What if her lips parted, and the stranger lowered his head, and they…

“I think working from home Tuesday and Thursday makes sense,” Jess’s voice cut through his thoughts. “The office gets chaotic. Hard to focus with all the noise.”

Tom shifted in his seat, willing his erection to subside. “Yeah, good idea,” he managed. “I’ve got meetings most of the week anyway.”

They pulled into their driveway to find Bob working on his truck, the hood up and tools spread across a neat workspace he’d created. He wore a grease-stained white tank top that revealed thick forearms.

“Afternoon,” Bob called out as they parked, wiping his hands on a shop rag. His eyes moved naturally to Jess as she emerged from the car, though his attention appeared casual. “Good timing. Was planning to look at your unit today, if that works.”

“That would be great,” Jess replied, smoothing her dress. “Just need to get the groceries inside first.”

“Take your time,” Bob rumbled. “Got about twenty minutes left here anyway.”

Tom watched Bob’s eyes follow Jess as she grabbed bags from the trunk. The older man’s gaze was subtle but unmistakable, and Tom felt that familiar confusing mix of jealousy and arousal surge through him once again.

---

Inside their kitchen, Jess turned to Tom. “Babe… I can’t stop thinking about Bob…” She bit her lower lip, a nervous habit she’d never quite outgrown. The same concern had nagged at her since waking up, the one she’d mentioned as they lay tangled in sheets after her morning performance. “Do you think he feels weird… I mean with the photos and everything?”

“He seems fine,” Tom replied. “Why? Are you worried about it?”

“A little,” Jess admitted, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “Maybe we should ask him to delete them?”

Tom’s pulse quickened. “Do you want me to ask him?”

Jess considered for a moment, then shook her head. “No,” she decided. “On second thought, let’s just forget about it. Bringing it up would probably make it more awkward.”

“If you’re sure,” Tom said, relieved.

“I’m sure,” Jess nodded. “Let’s just focus on getting these groceries put away.”

After putting away the groceries, Jess settled onto one of the leather barstools at the kitchen island. Her fingers danced across her iPad’s screen as she scrolled through design photos. Tom leaned against the granite countertop watching her face light up.

“Oh, look at this backsplash!” Jess exclaimed, tilting the iPad towards Tom. “Wouldn’t that tile pattern look amazing behind the stove? It would completely transform the whole kitchen!”

Tom peered at the mosaic of vibrant blues and whites forming intricate geometric shapes. “It’s beautiful,” he agreed. “But babe, we need to be realistic here. Bob’s coming to fix things, not give us a makeover.”

Jess sighed, her shoulders sagging slightly as she set the iPad down, her earlier enthusiasm deflating. “I know, I know. It’s just... when I see all these beautiful renovations, I can’t help but dream a little. Remember when we first bought this place? We had so many plans.”

Tom rounded the island, wrapping his arms around Jess from behind. He rested his chin on her shoulder and breathed in her floral scented shampoo. “And that’s exactly why I hide the sledgehammer,” he teased, pressing a light kiss to her neck. “Come on, let’s make a realistic list before Bob gets here.”

Jess nodded, straightening her spine, slipping into what Tom affectionately called her ‘interior designer mode’, focused, professional, and authoritative in a way that aroused him slightly. Her fingers, tipped with pink polish, began counting off points. “Okay, let’s see. One: the leaky shower faucet in the master bath. It’s driving me absolutely insane. Two: That squeaky floorboard right by-”

“Our bed,” Tom finished, grinning. “But I kind of like the warning system when you try to sneak out of bed for your midnight snacks.”

Jess gasped, snatching up a nearby dish towel and swinging it at him. “I do not!”

Tom dodged, laughing. “I’ve seen the empty Ben & Jerry’s in the trash, babe. You’re not as stealthy as you think.”

“Fine,” Jess conceded with a laugh. “But that’s not why we need it fixed. It’s just... annoying.”

“Sure, sure,” Tom said. “What’s number three?”

“Three: Some of the cabinets won’t stay shut properly. And four: replacing the kitchen and bathroom faucets.”

Tom nodded. “Good list. Maybe we should just ask for his general recommendations too? He might spot things we’ve missed.”

“Definitely,” Jess agreed. “He seems to have a good eye for these things.”

Tom glanced around their kitchen, taking in the few dirty dishes in the sink and the pile of mail on the counter. “Now, speaking of Bob...”

Jess’s gaze followed his, understanding blooming in her expression. “Right. We should probably clean up a bit. Especially the bedroom and bathroom.”

They shared a look, both aware of the more intimate items that needed to be tucked away before inviting their tenant into their private spaces.

“I’ll handle the dishes,” Tom offered. “You take the rooms?”

Jess nodded, sliding off the barstool, already moving. “Deal.”

They parted ways, each tackling their assigned space, and then reconvened in the living room.

“All clear on my end,” Tom reported.

“Same here,” Jess confirmed, smoothing down her sundress. “I think we’re as ready as we’ll ever be.”

As if on cue, the doorbell chimed.

“Here we go,” Tom murmured, moving towards the front door with Jess close behind.

He opened the door to reveal Bob standing on their porch, notebook and pen in hand.

“Ready to get started?”

“Absolutely,” Jess replied, her voice warm and welcoming despite the flutter of nerves in her stomach. She gestured toward their home’s interior, suddenly very aware of inviting this strange man into their private space. “Please, come in.”

The wooden stairs creaked beneath their feet as they led Bob up to their private sanctuary. When they entered the kitchen, Jess’s eyes moved to the wedding picture displayed on their fridge, capturing the moment they fed each other cake, both laughing hard. She felt vulnerable seeing Bob’s eyes pass over it, this glimpse into one of their most precious memories.

It was odd and profoundly intimate having a virtual stranger in their space, allowing them to see these little pieces of their life that were reserved for close friends and family. Their kitchen was where they danced while cooking dinner, where Tom made her with coffee in the mornings, where they’d had sex just a couple nights ago. Now this sanctuary was being invaded, examined, categorized.

Just as he had with the downstairs unit, Bob immediately started his methodical inspection. He tested every hinge, every drawer’s slide, and opened every cabinet door. He crouched down to examine the plumbing under the sink, checked the caulking, and inspected the faucet connections. He seemed to miss nothing and occasionally jotted down notes in neat handwriting.

“Good bones,” he muttered. “But definitely room for improvement.”

As Bob continued, Jess smoothed out nonexistent wrinkles and fidgeted with the hem of her sundress. The previous day’s photo shoot remained in her mind, making her hyperaware of his presence in their space.

Tom stood slightly behind Jess, his hand resting on the small of her back. He found himself studying Bob’s face for any hint of recognition, any suggestion that he was thinking about those provocative pool photos, but Bob’s expression remained neutral. His eyes remained focused on the task at hand, his comments purely technical.

When Bob asked for their specific concerns, Jess stepped forward eagerly. “Well, first there’s the leaky shower faucet in our master bath.”

“Probably just needs new washers,” Bob muttered, making another note. “What else?”

“There’s this squeaky floorboard right by our bed,” Jess continued. “And like you’ve noticed, some of the kitchen cabinets won’t stay shut properly.”

“And the faucets,” Tom added. “Both kitchen and bathroom could use updating.”

Bob nodded. “All good catches. Simple fixes.” He ran his fingers along one of the cabinet doors. “These just need their hinges adjusted and maybe some new hardware. As for the faucets...” He turned on the kitchen tap, listening intently. “Yeah, definitely time for an upgrade there.”

“We know it’s a lot,” Jess said quickly. “We don’t expect everything at once-”

Bob waved off her concern. “Tell you what, I’ve got plenty of time on my hands these days. Labor’s free.”

“Oh… no, we couldn’t-” Jess protested.

“I insist,” Bob cut in. “Keep me from going stir crazy. Plus, I’ve got connections with suppliers. Can probably get you 80, maybe 90 percent off retail.”

“Ninety percent?” Jess repeated, shocked to hear those words.

“Sometimes more,” Bob confirmed, clearly enjoying her reaction. “Depends on the item and supplier, but I know where to find the deals.” He flipped to a new page in his notepad. “Let’s talk about what you’d really like to do here. Not just fixes. Improvements.”

Jess’s professional composure crumbled as possibilities flooded her mind. Her words came out faster and her gestures became more animated. “Well, I’ve been thinking about updating the backsplash, and maybe adding some under-cabinet lighting. Oh! And there’s this beautiful sink I saw that would completely transform the space...”

Tom watched as Jess described her vision, her obvious passion animating her features. Bob listened attentively, making notes and asking clarifying questions. That revealed genuine understanding of design principles.

“All doable,” Bob assured her. “And with my connections, probably for less than you’d pay for just the basic repairs.”

“This is... incredible,” Jess breathed, looking around the kitchen with new eyes. Every surface now held possibility rather than limitation.

“Let’s check out those other issues?” asked Bob.

In the guest bathroom, Bob identified several minor issues they hadn’t even noticed.

Approaching their bedroom, Jess hesitated slightly before opening the door. Bob maintained a careful distance as they moved through the spaces, but the master closet’s narrow confines forced them closer together. Jess pressed herself against the doorframe as Bob made his inspections.

Bob quickly found the squeaky floorboard himself. “Easy fix,” he declared, crouching to examine it more closely. “But we might need to pull up a section of flooring to do it right.”

In the master bathroom, Jess unconsciously crossed her arms over her chest as Bob leaned into their shower, his broad frame filling the glass enclosure where she’d been naked just hours ago. Tom’s hand found her back again, his touch protective and possessive.

Bob examined the faucet, tested water pressure, and took more notes, his expression revealing nothing of his thoughts.

“Well,” Bob said finally, closing his notepad. “Think I’ve seen everything. I’ll draw up a proper list, price out materials. We can tackle these projects one at a time, do it right.”

“Thank you so much,” Jess gushed. “This is more than we could have ever hoped for.”

At the front door, Bob paused. “I’ll get you that list by tomorrow evening,” he said, his voice carrying a natural authority Tom was starting to recognize. “Might be able to start on some of the smaller fixes by mid-week.”

“No rush,” Tom replied. “We really appreciate this.”

Bob nodded, stepping outside into the afternoon sun. “Happy to help,” he said simply before heading toward his unit.

After Bob left, Jess turned to Tom. “Can you believe it? With those discounts, we’ll be able to do some real upgrades!”

“It’s definitely an opportunity,” he said carefully. “But maybe we should start small, see how it goes?”

“Of course,” Jess agreed readily. “We’ll be smart about it. But Tom, do you know what contractors charge hourly these days? And those material discounts! This will save us thousands!”

Jess practically danced around, already envisioning improvements. Tom wanted to share her excitement, but he felt uneasy. Bob’s generosity was too perfect, too convenient. The sensation nagged at him like a splinter just beneath skin.

“We’re so lucky he moved in,” Jess continued. “I mean, what are the chances we’d get a tenant who’s not only a skilled contractor but willing to help us like this?”

“Pretty lucky,” Tom agreed, forcing a smile. He pulled her close. “But let’s not get carried away, okay?”

Jess nodded. “Of course.” She stretched upward, pressing her lips to his cheek.

---

Back in the kitchen, Tom and Jess fell into their culinary dance. Tom handled the chicken while Jess chopped the vegetables. The tap-tap-tap of her knife against the cutting board mixed with the sizzle of chicken hitting the hot pan. Steam rose, carrying the scent of garlic and herbs.

“Remember when we couldn’t find the pots?” Jess asked, sweeping diced vegetables into a bowl.

Tom flipped a chicken breast, checking for the golden-brown sear. “Now look at us,” he said. “All grown up and meal prepping.”

“Grown-ups who had sex like teenagers all weekend,” Jess teased, playfully bumping him with her hip.

Their hands kept finding each other as they worked. Fingers brushed while passing seasonings, shoulders pressed together reaching for spoons. Each contact was brief but electric.

Tom carefully weighted the rice, vegetables, and chicken before placing them into the waiting glass containers while Jess snapped the lids shut.

“Done!” Jess declared, snapping the final lid into place. “Now we just need to clean up and get ready for tonight.”

Tom pulled her close. “Or we could leave the cleanup for later...”

“Don’t you dare,” she laughed, pushing him away with open palms. “I need time to get ready properly. This is a celebration, remember?”

They moved through the cleanup routine, loading the dishwasher, wiping counters, storing containers in the fridge.

“I’m going to make myself beautiful,” Jess announced, heading for the bedroom.

“You already are,” Tom called after her.

The kitchen felt different once she left. It was quieter, emptier somehow. It felt like she took some of the light with her. Tom finished wiping down the counters, his mind already racing ahead to dinner, to the week ahead, to all the changes Bob’s arrival had sparked.

He made his way to his office, knowing he needed to clear some work before they went out. His fingers flew across his laptop keyboard, racing against time to handle the flood of urgent emails. Every few minutes, his mind would drift to Jess preparing for their celebration dinner. The thought of her getting ready, of smooth skin being revealed and covered again made focusing on work nearly impossible.

In their bathroom, Jess stood wrapped in a plush towel, studying her reflection in the mirror. Her skin glowed from her thorough beauty routine. The ritual grounded her even as excitement fluttered in her stomach. This wasn’t just dinner, this was a celebration of everything falling into place.

She opened the frosted glass door at the back of the closet, revealing her carefully curated lingerie collection, and selected a matching set in pale pink, the one Tom always said was “so fucking irresistible”. The lace barely covered anything, which was exactly the point. The bra pushed her breasts up and together while the tiny thong disappeared between her cheeks. Looking at herself in the mirror, she smiled. Tom wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off her later.

A burgundy dress slid over her body, hugging her tight while maintaining an air of sophistication. The neckline showed just enough cleavage to be enticing, and the hemline hit mid-thigh, perfect for both the restaurant and whatever would come after.

When she finally appeared from the bedroom, she found Tom already dressed in his tailored charcoal suit, the one she always said made him look like he belonged on a GQ cover. Their eyes met across the room.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed. “You look incredible.”

Jess did a slow turn, giving him the full effect. “You clean up pretty nice yourself, handsome.”

The drive to the restaurant was charged with sexual tension. Tom’s hand found her thigh, his fingers tracing patterns on her skin just below the hem of her dress.

“We might not make it to dinner,” she warned.

“Would that be so terrible?” His fingers inched higher.

“Behave yourself,” she laughed, crossing her legs to trap his wandering hand. “We’re celebrating, remember?”

The valet’s eyes widened when Jess stepped out of Tom’s Lexus, her dress riding up to reveal a dangerous flash of toned thigh. The boy couldn’t have been older than twenty, and he fumbled with the keys as he handed Tom the claim ticket, his eyes on Jess a heartbeat too long.

Tom’s hand rested possessively at the small of Jess’s back as they followed the maître d’ through the dining room. She felt eyes on her as they’d entered, but she was used to that kind of attention, had been since puberty hit and transformed her from awkward teen to head-turning beauty.

The restaurant oozed with elegance. Crystal chandeliers cast intimate pools of light across white tablecloths. The silverware gleamed, the wine glasses sparkled, and classical music played softly in the background.

Tom pulled out her chair, his fingertips brushing the nape of her neck as she sat. The touch sent a current down her spine, a private reminder of last night.

“Good evening.” Their waiter materialized beside them, dressed in crisp black and white, with perfect posture. “My name is David, and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. May I start you with something from the bar?”

Tom ordered a glass of wine, but Jess hesitated. “Just sparkling water with lime for now, please.”

Tom’s eyebrow rose slightly at her choice. They shared a look loaded with possibility. Could she already be pregnant?

“So,” Tom began once David had left with their drink orders. “Tell me more about the Skyline presentation. I want to hear everything.”

Jess leaned forward, describing the presentation. “God, you should have seen Chris Webb’s face when we showed him the renderings. His jaw practically hit the floor. And Margaret... she looked ready to burst with pride. You know how she never shows emotion? She actually smiled, Tom. Twice.”

“I wish I could have been there,” Tom said softly. “But this Meridian implementation is kicking my ass.”

“Hey.” Jess reached across the table to squeeze his hand. “You’re going to nail it. Senior Consultant is practically yours already.”

Tom turned her hand over, his thumb tracing slow circles on her palm. “The travel, though. Week-long trips sometimes. I don’t want to leave you alone that much.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Jess assured him with easy confidence. “Besides, maybe by then we’ll have something else to keep me busy.” Her free hand drifted to her flat stomach.

Their eyes met across the candlelight, both remembering Friday night’s passion. Their weekend had been a rediscovery of each other, proof that their connection was stronger than ever.

David returned with their drinks, the stem of Tom’s wine glass pinched precisely between his fingers. “Tonight, Chef has prepared a magnificent Dover sole,” he began. “It’s served with a lemon beurre blanc and seasonal vegetables harvested from local farms this morning.” Jess found herself only half listening, distracted by Tom’s foot finding hers under the table.

“That sounds perfect,” Jess said, not bothering to open her menu.

“Make that two,” Tom added, his eyes never leaving his wife’s face.

Once David left, their conversation turned to more personal matters. “Mom called earlier,” she said. “She’s asking when we’re coming to visit. I think we should tell them about... you know?”

“The maybe-baby?” Tom’s voice dropped lower. “Your mom will have the nursery designed before we hang up…. you don’t think it’s too soon?”

“Maybe,” Jess admitted. “But I’m excited.”

Their fingers remained intertwined on the table as the conversation shifted, touching on Jess’s sister’s new boyfriend and Bob’s surprising offer to help with home renovations.

“Oh, and Hannah called earlier,” Jess said. “Apparently the new boyfriend drives a Porsche and has some tech startup that’s about to revolutionize something or other.”

Tom chuckled. “Your sister does have a type. What happened to the accountant?”

“Dumped him last month.” Jess rolled her eyes with affectionate exasperation. “Something about him being too safe and boring. She’s twenty-two. Everything seems boring to her. But Mom says this new guy, Trevor, seems different. More mature.”

“Let me guess, he’s at least thirty-five?”

“Thirty-six,” Jess confirmed with a alight shake of her head. “Han swears the age gap doesn’t matter, that he understands her in ways guys her age can’t.”

“Classic,” Tom chuckled. “But fourteen years is really pushing it. Your dad must be thrilled.”

“Oh, he’s furious,” Jess laughed. “But you know Han, telling her not to do something just makes her want it more.”

Their entrees arrived, perfectly plated and steaming. David arranged their dishes while describing each component. The Dover sole glistened under the intimate lighting, but Tom barely noticed the food. His attention remained fixed on Jess, on the way candlelight played across her features, on how her tongue darted out to wet her lips.

“Everything looks wonderful,” Jess told David. “Thank you.”

Once they were alone again, Tom leaned forward. “Have I told you how absolutely stunning you look tonight?”

“Only about twenty times,” Jess laughed. “But I don’t mind hearing it again.”

They fell into comfortable silence as they enjoyed their meals, exchanging glances between bites. Tom’s foot continued its teasing journey up her calf while Jess retaliated by letting soft little moans escape as she savored particularly delicious bites.

“That’s not fair,” Tom chuckled quietly after a particularly breathy sound of appreciation.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jess replied innocently.

Their conversation drifted to the upcoming work party on Friday. “You’ll actually make it this time?” Jess asked. “No last-minute emergencies?”

“Promise,” Tom assured her.

As they finished their entrees, David appeared to clear their plates. “Can I interest you in our dessert menu?”

Tom and Jess shared a look. “Just the check, please,” Tom replied.

While they waited for the check, Jess excused herself to the ladies’ room. Tom watched her walk away, noting how other diners’ eyes followed her progress across the restaurant. Men’s gazes lingered on the sway of her hips while women studied her with that blend of admiration and resentment reserved for beautiful women who made it look effortless.

When Jess returned, there was something different about her, a slight flush coloring her cheeks, a secretive smile playing at the corners of her mouth. She slid back into her seat and under cover of the tablecloth, pressed something into his palm. The delicate fabric was still warm from her body, still carrying her scent.

Tom’s brain short-circuited as he realized what he was holding. Her thong. Lacy, tiny, and unmistakably just removed.

“A preview of home,” she whispered.

Tom nearly choked on his remaining wine. “Jesus, Jess...”

Tom’s fingers clenched around it, his cock hardening instantly knowing that she was sitting across from him completely bare beneath her dress, in the middle of one of Austin’s most upscale restaurants, surrounded by other diners who had no idea of the delicious secret they shared. He discreetly slipped the thong into his suit pocket, though his hand kept returning to touch it.

David returned with the leather check presenter, placing it by Tom. “I hope everything was to your satisfaction this evening,” he said.

“It was perfect,” Tom managed. He barely registered the total as he slipped his credit card inside, his mind consumed by the lacy evidence in his pocket and the knowledge of what waited beneath Jess’s dress.

The woman across from him looked so composed yet was anything but. Jess sipped her sparkling water, the picture of innocence, save for the wicked glint in her eyes. Her tongue darted out to capture a droplet from her lip, the simple gesture transformed into something obscene by the context of what she’d just done.

The drive home was torture. Jess’s dress had ridden up, revealing bare thigh that Tom couldn’t stop staring at whenever they hit red lights. His hand found her leg again, sliding higher until he encountered flesh where lace should have been.

“Fuck,” he groaned when his fingers found her slick.

“Eyes on the road, baby,” Jess teased. “Almost home.”

Tom hardly remembered to put the car in park before yanking the keys from the ignition. They stumbled up the walkway together, Jess’s laughter bright in the night air as Tom fumbled with the front door key.

They barely made it through their front door before Tom had Jess pressed against the wall, his mouth devouring hers with desperate hunger. His hands roamed her body, squeezing her ass beneath her hiked-up dress. Her arms snaked around his neck as she pulled herself up, wrapping those long legs around his waist.

“At least take me upstairs,” Jess laughed breathlessly against his mouth, though the way her body arched against his suggested she wouldn’t actually mind being taken right there in the entryway.

Tom gripped her thighs as he carried her up the stairs. Her dress had bunched around her waist, leaving her completely exposed from the waist down, a fact that registered in Tom’s brain as the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

Once inside their bedroom, he kicked their bedroom door shut behind them, the sound echoing through the quiet house. Jess’s breathless laugh turned into a startled gasp as he tossed her onto their king-sized bed. She bounced once, her hair fanning out across the pillows.

Tom stood at the foot of the bed, loosening his tie with one hand while the other reached into his pocket to withdraw her thong. It still carried a hint of her scent that made his mouth water.

“You,” he said, dangling the scrap of lace between them, “are going to be the death of me.”

Jess smiled up at him. She shifted her position, slowly spreading her thighs. She watched his eyes track the movement. “But what a way to go,” she purred.

Tom tossed the thong aside and reached for the hem of her dress. The silk rubbed against her skin, creating a sensory trail that made goosebumps rise as he slowly pulled it upwards. When he reached her breasts, Jess arched her back, silently begging him to continue. He complied, sliding the dress higher until it bunched beneath her arms.

“Lift up,” he instructed.

Jess raised her arms above her head and Tom dragged the dress over it. When her face emerged, her hair was tousled, her cheeks flushed, her eyes heavy.

Tom tossed the dress aside without a second glance, letting it fall forgotten to the floor. His gaze raked over her body, drinking in the sight of her sprawled across their bed wearing nothing but the pale pink lace bra.

“Gorgeous,” he breathed. “Absolutely fucking gorgeous.”

Jess reached for his belt. “Your turn. Too many clothes.”

Tom caught her wrists with one swift movement, pinning them above her head with one hand. His other hand traced the lace edge of her bra. “I’ve been thinking about this all night,” he confessed.

His mouth found her neck, trailing hot kisses down to her collarbone. When he reached her breasts, he released her wrists to unhook her bra. The lace fell away, revealing hardened nipples begging for attention.

“Baby,” Jess whimpered as his mouth closed around one peak. Her fingers gripped his hair, holding him against her as he teased and sucked. Her back arched off the bed, pressing more of herself into his hungry mouth.

“Tom,” she gasped. “I need you so bad, baby...”

Their hands collided as they both reached for his remaining clothing, fumbling with buttons and zippers. His suit jacket hit the floor, followed by his dress shirt. Jess’s fingers traced the lean muscles of his chest, appreciating how his regular running had kept him fit. His pants, boxers, and socks were the last to go, kicked off the bed to join the growing pile of discarded clothing on the floor.

Tom sat back against the headboard, his cock standing proudly, the tip already glistening with pre-cum. He reached for Jess, pulling her into his lap so she straddled him. Cowgirl was one of their favorite positions because it allowed them to kiss deeply while maintaining full body contact. It let her control the depth and pace while still allowing him to thrust upward.

Their mouths met in a passionate kiss. Tom’s hands roamed her back, tracing her spine, cupping her ass, pulling her closer, her hardened nipples rubbing against him.

Tom’s hand slid between their bodies and found her core, fingers sliding through her slickness. “Already so wet for me,” he groaned against her mouth, two fingers circling her entrance.

“Yeah,” she admitted, rolling her hips against his hand, trying to guide his fingers where she needed them most. “Couldn’t stop thinking about this... about you... about your cock filling me up...”

“Lay back,” Tom commanded softly, his hands already guiding her movement. “Let me taste you.”

Jess fell back against the pillows, spreading her legs in invitation. Her hands reached down to part her folds, giving him an unobstructed view. Tom settled between her thighs, his shoulders creating space for himself as he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to her inner thighs. His breath ghosted over her, making her shiver with anticipation.

The first broad stroke of his tongue had her gasping, hips bucking up instinctively to increase the contact. Just as she knew exactly how to suck his cock, he knew precisely how to eat her pussy. Years of intimate knowledge guided his movements as his tongue licked a path between her folds before circling her swollen clit. His hands gripped her thighs, holding her open for his feast.

“Right there,” she moaned when he hit a particularly sensitive spot, her fingers tangling in his hair to hold him in place. “Don’t stop...”

Tom doubled his efforts, alternating between broad strokes of his tongue and focused attention on her clit. When he slid two fingers inside her, curling them upward to find that sensitive spot, Jess’s thighs began to tremble uncontrollably on either side of his head.

“Oh god,” she gasped, her internal muscles clenching around his fingers. “Tom... I’m gonna...”

Her words dissolved into a sharp cry of pleasure as orgasm crashed through her. Tom didn’t let up, working her through each pulse of pleasure until she was gasping and oversensitive, her hands now pushing weakly at his shoulders.

When he finally pulled back, his chin glistening with evidence of her pleasure, Jess grabbed his shoulders and pulled him up for a deep kiss. She could taste herself on his tongue, the flavor making her moan into his mouth.

“Need you inside me,” she begged between kisses, her hands reaching between them to find his hardness. She stroked him firmly, feeling him pulse in her grip. “Please...”

Tom aligned himself at her entrance, the broad head of his cock sliding against the folds of her pussy, coating himself in her arousal. Her thighs trembled with anticipation as she felt him positioning himself. “Ready for me?” he asked, though he knew the answer.

“Yes,” she breathed, tilting her hips to make his entry easier. “Fill me up, baby...”

Tom entered her with agonizing slowness, savoring the sensation of her body yielding to his. He watched her face contort with pleasure as he filled her inch by inch, her inner walls stretching to accommodate his thickness, gripping him. When he finally bottomed out, their pelvic bones pressed together, they both groaned at the sensation of being fully joined.

“Fuck,” Tom breathed, his forehead pressed against hers, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. “You feel so fucking good. So tight. So perfect.”

Jess’s legs wrapped around his waist, her ankles locking behind his back, pulling him even deeper inside her. Her heels dug into the muscles of his ass, urging him to move. Their mouths met in a desperate kiss, tongues mimicking the intimate joining of their bodies as Tom began thrusting.

Jess raked her nails down his back. “Harder,” she begged, her voice breaking on the word. “Need to feel you... all of you...”

Tom’s hips snapped forward with renewed urgency, the sound of skin meeting skin filling their bedroom. The headboard thumped rhythmically against the wall with each thrust, but neither of them thought about whether Bob might hear from the apartment below. In this moment, nothing existed outside of their joining.

“Yes,” Jess cried out. “Just like that... don’t stop... right there...”

Her inner walls began to flutter around him as another orgasm approached. Tom could feel his own release building, pressure gathering. He was so close. The sight of Jess writhing beneath him, taking everything he had to give, pushed him rapidly toward the edge.

“Gonna cum,” he warned, his rhythm becoming erratic as control slipped away. “Want to fill you up...”

“Please,” Jess moaned, her hips rising to meet each thrust, her inner muscles clamping down on him. “Want to feel you cum inside me... want to feel you pump me full...”

Her words pushed Tom over the edge. With a final thrust, he buried himself completely inside her and exploded just as Jess’s own orgasm hit, her pussy greedily milking him for every drop.

They stayed joined as the aftershocks subsided. Neither wanted to break their connection just yet, to return to the world outside their bed. But finally, Tom rolled to his side, bringing Jess with him so they remained face to face. She curled into his chest, their legs still tangled together, his softening cock still nestled inside her. His cum leaked from her well-fucked pussy when he finally slipped out, marking their sheets with the evidence of their passion.

The knowledge that he’d now pumped two loads inside her unprotected womb within 24 hours sent electricity through his spent body. After years of responsible birth control, they’d thrown caution to the wind twice in two days. The reckless abandon of it all only heightened the intimacy of the moment.

“I love you,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her forehead. “So fucking much.”

“Love you too,” she replied softly. “Always have, always will.”

“Two loads,” he murmured. “Definitely improving our chances.”

“It feels right,” she whispered.

They exchanged gentle kisses as their heartbeats gradually returned to normal. Then sleep began to claim them. Before drifting off completely, Tom pulled the sheets over them, covering them in warmth.

---

The next morning, Tom sat at his desk buried in the Meridian implementation that seemed to grow more complex by the hour. His monitor glowed with endless spreadsheets, transforming what had once seemed like a promising opportunity into a demanding beast that consumed every available moment. His coffee had gone cold hours ago, forgotten between urgent emails and crisis calls.

A notification pinged. Another fire to extinguish. Another reason to miss dinner. Another brick in the wall between his professional ambitions and his marriage.

His eyes drifted to the framed photo on his desk of Jess from their anniversary dinner last year. Her head was thrown back in laughter, blonde hair over bare shoulders, the kind of candid moment that made people tun and look. Miles had commented on it. “Man, your wife gets hotter every time I see her. You sure won the lottery there, buddy.”

Tom had smiled and said nothing. The old him would have bristled, changed the subject, maybe even turned the photo away. The new him just nodded, letting the compliment sink in like a drug, riding the strange high of another man’s desire for what was his.

His phone buzzed with a text from Jess: “Missing you already. Can’t stop thinking about last night.”

The memory flooded back, making him shift in his ergonomic chair. He adjusted himself beneath his desk, paranoid someone might walk by and catch him with a hard-on like some teenage intern.

“Miss you too,” he typed back. “But I need to focus.”

“I understand. Just know I’m thinking about you. Have a productive day!”

He set the phone face-down, trying to redirect his attention to the crisis at hand. His inbox showed thirty-seven unread emails.

An hour later, his phone vibrated.

“Had the most productive morning. Just finished the Skyline mock-ups. Margaret loved them. Heading to lunch meeting with potential client. Will send pics of the food to make you jealous of my expense account.”

He smiled. “Show-off. I’m stuck with vending machine pretzels.”

“Poor baby. I’ll feed you properly tonight.”

The innuendo wasn’t lost on him.

The afternoon crawled by slowly. Crisis calls came one after another. Email chains multiplied like cancer cells. Beneath it all pulsed the persistent throb of arousal whenever his mind wandered to the weekend’s events. Every time he closed his eyes, he heard Jess’ desperate moans from their passionate nights. He saw her lips wrapped around Bob’s massive cock in fantasies he couldn’t control.

During a lull between calls, Tom found himself opening Instagram on his phone, muscle memory taking him to Jess’s account. It was private now. She’d locked it down shortly after they started dating, deleting the provocative modeling shots that used to pull hundreds of desperate comments and DMs. Tom sometimes wondered if she missed that attention, that power.

He imagined her account public again, visible to the world. He imagined the avalanche of notifications, the fire emojis, the thirsty messages from strangers detailing exactly what they’d do to his wife given half a chance.

His phone lit up again: “Heading to yoga now! Don’t work too late. I’m making that chicken you love.”

Tom glanced at the time: 3:00 PM. His afternoon calendar still showed three more meetings and dozens of unread emails. There was no way he’d be leaving on time.

“Can’t wait to see you,” he typed back.

He set his phone down and rubbed his eyes, trying to focus on the spreadsheet in front of him. But his mind refused to cooperate, drifting instead to Jess in her yoga class. She’d be wearing those skintight leggings that seemed painted on. She’d be bending and stretching, her perfect ass in the air, her breasts straining against her sports bra as she moved through poses. Other men in the class would be watching, inevitably. Perhaps one of them would approach her after class, compliment her form, suggest they grab a smoothie...

Tom shook his head. What the fuck was wrong with him? His beautiful, talented wife was excelling at her career, maintaining her health, and planning to cook him dinner, and here he sat spinning sexual fantasies about her with strangers.

At 4:30, his phone buzzed again.

“Just finished yoga. SO sweaty. Instructor was brutal today. This new guy, Derek, doesn’t believe in child’s pose apparently. My thighs are screaming. Heading home now to shower and start dinner.”

Tom’s fingers hovered over the keyboard. “New guy? What happened to Amber?”

“On maternity leave. Derek’s just filling in. He’s good though. Really pushes everyone.”

Tom’s mind immediately constructed an image of this Derek: tall, lean, probably sporting a man-bun and tribal tattoos. Probably mid-thirties with perfect abs and a tantric sex certification. Probably watched Jess the entire class, offered hands-on “adjustments” to her poses.

“Is he cute?” Tom typed, then immediately deleted it. What the fuck was he doing? Instead, he wrote: “Looking forward to dinner. Should be home by 7.”

Eventually, the clock showed 6 PM. One more hour, he promised himself. Just one more hour to get ahead of tomorrow’s demands. He lost himself in logistics workflows and implementation schedules, time slipping through his fingers until his phone vibrated against the desk. It was an actual call this time.

“Hey handsome,” Jess’s voice carried a familiar note of disappointment beneath the warmth. “Still at the office?”

“Just wrapping up,” he lied, looking at his endless to-do list. “Give me an hour?”

Jess’s sigh was soft but pointed, years of similar conversations compressed into a single exhale. “Dinner will be in the fridge then. I miss you.”

“Miss you too,” he replied.

Finally, at 7:30 PM, he admitted defeat. The work would still be there tomorrow, multiplying in the dark. He packed his briefcase and rode the elevator down past floors of other corporate warriors fighting their own battles.

Their house glowed warmly as he pulled into the driveway where Jess’ Tesla and Bob’s truck sat in their designated spaces. Tom grabbed his briefcase, feeling the weight of responsibility and neglect, and headed inside to whatever remained of his evening with Jess.

The scent hit him first: garlic, rosemary, lemon, her signature roast chicken that always made their house feel like an actual home. Tom found Jess in the kitchen, plating his dinner. The sight of her like this, casual in yoga pants and one of his old college t-shirts, her blonde hair piled messily atop her head, made his heart ache.

“Hey stranger,” she said, turning to face him. Her smile was genuine despite everything. “I was starting to think you’d forgotten where we live.”

Guilt surged through him. “I’m sorry,” he replied, setting his briefcase down. “The Meridian implementation is-”

“I know, I know.” She cut him off, crossing the space to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “Your dinner’s ready. Go shower first. You’ll feel better.”

The hot water provided temporary relief for muscles knotted from hunching over keyboards and smartphones. But his mind refused the same cleansing, drifting instead to reckless creampies and potential pregnancy.

The doorbell’s unexpected chime cut through the house just as Tom finished dressing. He glanced at his watch. 8:15 PM, not exactly neighborly calling hours. A flicker of irritation passed through him as he descended the stairs.

Bob stood in their entryway, renovation plans clutched in his hand.

“Evening,” Bob rumbled, nodding toward Tom when he opened the door. “Got that list worked up. Thought we could go over it while it’s fresh.”

“Come on up,” Tom offered, stepping aside to let the older man pass.

Bob’s heavy footsteps followed Tom up the stairs. In the kitchen, Jess was bent over the dishwasher, yoga pants leaving exactly nothing to the imagination. The top rode up just enough to show a strip of tanned skin above her waistband.

She straightened when they entered, and Tom watched Bob’s eyes track the movement, though his expression remained professionally neutral.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt your evening,” Bob said.

“Not at all,” Jess replied, her voice carrying that warmth she reserved for people she wanted to impress. “Can I get you something to drink? Water? Beer?”

“Water’s fine,” Bob answered, settling onto one of the barstools, spreading his papers across the granite countertop. The pages were filled with neat handwriting, diagrams sketched with unexpected artistry, and columns of numbers that promised salvation for their home improvement dreams.

“Broken down by priority and cost savings,” he explained, thick index finger trailing down the columns. “Starting with that shower faucet that’s been driving you crazy.”

Jess handed Bob a glass of ice water before leaning in to study the plans. Tom watched how her blonde hair fell forward, how she tucked it behind her ear.

For the next half hour, Bob laid out his renovation strategy. Every suggestion was backed by decades of hands-on experience, every cost reduction explained through references to “connections” that seemed to materialize from thin air.

“Got a guy in South Austin. Imports direct from Italy. Owes me for fixing a mess another contractor left him with.” Bob’s expression remained neutral, but something in his tone suggested these weren’t simple business relationships but debts of honor, obligations that ran deeper than money.

“That would be amazing,” Jess breathed. Her eyes had taken on that gleam Tom recognized from when she was working on her design projects, the look of a creative mind seeing possibilities unfold. But something twisted in Tom’s gut watching her enthusiasm, a confusing mix of gratitude for Bob’s help but also discomfort at how easily the older man had captured her attention, how naturally he’d inserted himself into their home. Had it only been three days since Bob moved in?

“Question is,” Bob continued, leaning back slightly, “how you want to handle access? Some of these jobs take time. Might need to be here when you’re not.”

“Weekends,” Tom said, perhaps too quickly. The thought of Bob moving through their home while they were at work made him uncomfortable. “We’ll start there.”

Bob nodded, gathering his papers with those thick fingers. “Your call. Just means a longer timeline.” He checked his watch. “Getting late. Should let you folks get some rest.”

As they walked Bob to the door, he paused at the entrance to the garage. His head tilted slightly. “Your garage door’s making some noise. Heard it earlier today. Mind if I take a look while I’m here?”

Without waiting for an answer, Bob moved toward the garage door with that confident stride of a man who’d never been told no. Tom and Jess exchanged glances before following him.

Ten minutes later, the door raised and lowered in near silence, the previous grinding and squeaking having vanished like they’d never existed. Bob’s hands were streaked with grease as he wiped them on a shop rag he’d pulled from his back pocket.

“There you go,” he announced. “Should last another few years now.”

The ease with which he fixed things that had frustrated Tom for months was both impressive and somehow emasculating. It was a reminder of practical competence that corporate success couldn’t replace.

“You’re amazing,” Jess exclaimed, genuine appreciation lighting her features. “How much do we owe you?”

Bob waved off her question. “Good landlords and tenants look out for each other.”

After Bob left, Tom finally sat down to the dinner Jess had kept warm. He devoured the roast chicken, his body catching up to the fact that he’d barely eaten all day. Jess watched him from across the island, sipping her water, pleased to see him enjoy her cooking despite the late hour.

“This is incredible,” he managed between bites. “Sorry I missed it fresh.”

“At least you’re eating it,” she replied.

When his plate was clean, Tom retreated to his laptop at the dining table while Jess curled up on the couch to watch the latest episode of her favorite show.

Jess tried to focus on her show, but her mind kept drifting. The weekend had been passionate, connected, almost like their early days together. They’d rediscovered each other, remembered what had drawn them together in the first place.

Yet here they were, Monday night, and the magic was already fading. Tom buried in work, her watching TV alone, the distance between them growing with each passing hour. The status quo reasserted itself.

When her eyes grew heavy, she moved to where Tom sat, still typing, and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

“Don’t stay up too late,” she murmured.

He caught her hand, squeezed it briefly. “Just need to finish this section. I’ll be done soon.”

They both knew it was likely a lie.

In bed, Jess stared at the ceiling, listening to the faint sounds of Tom working. She drifted off to sleep alone, wondering how something that had felt so promising could slip away so quickly.

---

The next morning, Jess settled into her home office chair, bare feet tucked beneath her as she opened her laptop. The silk robe she wore was pure indulgence, but working from home had its perks.

Her phone buzzed with a text from Tom: “Missing my sexy wife. These meetings are torture.”

She smiled, fingers dancing across the screen: “Poor baby. Focus on work, Mr. Marshall. I’ll reward you properly when you get home.”

“Promise?”

“If you’re home at a decent hour this time.”

She hesitated, then softened. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

From downstairs came the muffled sound of Bob working on something. The knowledge of his presence below added an odd tension to her morning routine. She found herself moving more quietly, hyperaware of every sound she made, every creak of the floorboards beneath her feet.

Her laptop chimed with a new email from Chris Webb about the Skyline project. She forced her mind back to work, pulling up the design files she’d been refining. The penthouse layouts demanded her full attention, each detail crucial for their wealthy clients.

The morning slipped away in CAD files and client emails. Around noon, restlessness crept in. After a quick lunch, she abandoned her desk for the balcony, seeking fresh air. The Texas sun beat down mercilessly, but the slight breeze made it bearable.

The sight below stopped her. Bob was in the backyard, his tank top dark with sweat as he worked on their ancient sprinkler system.

“Afternoon,” Bob called up, noticing her presence. “Sprinklers needed attention. Previous owners let them go too long.”

“We didn’t even know they were broken,” Jess admitted, leaning against the railing.

“Most folks don’t, till it’s too late.” Bob straightened, wiping sweat from his brow. “While I’m at it, thinking about that kitchen backsplash. Got some samples coming Thursday. Natural stone, high-end stuff.”

“That’s... wow, thank you.” The renovation plans thrilled and unsettled her simultaneously. “You really don’t have to do all this.”

“Like keeping busy,” Bob shrugged. “Besides, this place deserves proper care.”

The afternoon crawled until mercifully, she finally justified ending work early. She slipped into a white sundress and heeled boots, then checked the mirror. The woman staring back seemed different somehow, more alive. Maybe it was the weekend’s passion or maybe it was the possibility of new life growing inside her.

“Going shopping with Madi,” she texted Tom.

Tom’s message appeared quickly: “Sounds good. You’re amazing. Love you.”

“Love you too, workaholic. Don’t stay too late.”

---

Madi stood outside their favorite boutique, wearing a black dress that probably cost more than most people’s monthly rent, her energy crackling like electricity. The moment she spotted Jess, her face lit up with that smile that promised juicy conversation.

“There she is!” Madi pulled Jess into a tight hug. Pulling back, she studied Jess’ face with the intensity of someone who’d known her through breakups, makeups, and everything in between. Madi’s eyes narrowed. “You’re practically glowing!”

Inside, surrounded by racks of designer clothes, the interrogation began. “Okay, spill everything.” Madi demanded. “And I mean everything. You’ve been holding out on me.”

“Let me try these on first,” Jess deflected, gathering an armful of dresses. “It was... an interesting weekend.”

In the fitting room, Jess stripped down to her underwear while Madi settled into the plush waiting chair outside. “So remember how I told you things had gotten pretty bad?” Jess asked through the curtain. “Tom was always working late and we barely touched each other? Well, everything changed this weekend.”

Jess emerged from behind the curtain in a tight navy-blue dress. “God, you were so right about sending those pictures. Tom couldn’t keep his hands off me. We didn’t even make it to the bedroom.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Madi leaned forward, elbows on knees. “Details. All of them.”

“Well,” Jess disappeared behind the curtain again, her voice carrying a mix of embarrassment and pride, “let’s just say the kitchen counter will never be the same.”

“That good, huh?” Madi handed another dress over. “Is that all?”

Jess slipped into the purple dress, adjusting it. “Remember our new tenant moved in Saturday? Bob?”

“Yeah. The older guy? The divorced contractor?” Madi’s voice carried equal parts intrigue and concern.

“That’s him.” Jess turned to examine herself in the mirror. “We were all hanging out by the pool on Saturday... and Tom suggested taking photos of me. Things got... interesting.”

As Jess detailed the photoshoot, Madi’s expression shifted from surprise to intrigue. The dress was nice but Madi was already reaching for another hanger.

“Holy shit,” Madi breathed. “That’s hot. Like, actually hot. How’d that make you feel?”

Back behind the curtain, Jess wiggled into a black dress. “Terrified? Confused? Excited?”

“And then what happened?”

Jess came out and looked at the mirror. “Bob made us dinner. These amazing steaks. And...”

“And?” Madi practically vibrated with anticipation.

“Tom couldn’t keep his hands off me.” Jess blushed at the memory. “And... we didn’t use protection.”

“Jessica fucking Marshall!” Madi’s shriek earned them curious looks from nearby shoppers. She lowered her voice. “You mean you might be...”

“Maybe? It’s too soon to tell. But we did it again the next day. No protection again.” Jess disappeared behind the curtain again. “It felt right, you know? Like everything aligned.”

“This is huge!”

“Oh my god, wait until you hear about dinner,” Jess gushed. “Sunday night we went to Vincenzo’s. I wore that pale pink lingerie set Tom gave me for our anniversary. The really expensive La Perla one? But after we finished, while we were waiting for the check… I… God, this is so unlike me...”

“What did you do?” Madi leaned forward eagerly.

“I took my panties off in the bathroom,” Jess confessed in a rush. “Then I put them in Tom’s hand under the table.”

“You didn’t!” Madi’s delighted laugh filled the fitting room. “Jessica Marshall, you absolute minx! What did he do?”

“Nearly choked on his wine,” Jess giggled. “You should have seen his face. I’ve never seen him want to leave somewhere so fast.”

“I bet! Please tell me you fucked in the car...”

“No! We actually made it home. But barely. The whole drive, his hand kept sliding up my thigh... the dress didn’t stay on very long once we got inside.”

“Details! I need details!”

Jess bit her lip, remembering. “Hmm… let’s just say the headboard might need reinforcing.”

Madi’s smile was wicked. “Sounds like someone’s marriage just got a serious spark rekindled.”

“God, Madi, he was so different. More... primal? The way he looked at me, touched me... it’s like he couldn’t get enough.” Jess’s smile faltered slightly. “Of course, then yesterday he came home late again. After all that connection over the weekend, he still got stuck at work.”

“Typical,” Madi rolled her eyes. “Men always revert to form.”

“It’s not entirely his fault,” Jess sighed. “This project is huge for his career.”

“Wait, back up.” Madi said, changing the subject. “Tom got turned on from Bob watching you pose?”

“Not just that. Remember how I told you about Brandon at the gym?”

“My Brandon? Mr. nine inches of pure pleasure Brandon?”

“Madi!” Jess laughed. “Yes, that Brandon. When I told Tom about him flirting with me... let’s just say it had an effect.”

Their laughter filled the fitting room, the kind of joy only possible between friends who’d seen each other through everything.

“He’s discovering his kinky side,” Madi grinned. “And Bob? How does he act around you now?”

“Professional. Like nothing happened.” Jess stepped out in a crimson dress. “This one?”

“Stunning,” Madi declared. “But back to Bob. Does he make you uncomfortable?”

“No,” Jess admitted, studying her reflection. “He’s just... intense. He’s already fixing things around the house. He’s planning all these renovations, offering amazing discounts through his ‘connections’...”

“How convenient,” Madi observed.

Their conversation paused as Jess spotted it, an emerald green dress that seemed to glow under the boutique’s lighting.

“Oh my god,” Madi breathed. “That’s the one. That’s absolutely the one.”

Jess slipped the dress over her head. When she emerged, Madi’s sharp intake of breath confirmed what the mirror showed. The dress was perfect.

“Tom won’t know what hit him,” Madi declared. “And speaking of hitting... turn around.” She whistled when Jess complied. “Girl, your ass looks incredible.”

Jess studied her reflection. The dress made her feel powerful, sexy, like the model she used to be. “You don’t think it’s too much?”

“There’s no such thing as too much when you look like that,” Madi insisted. “Besides, with everything you told me about this weekend...”

The price tag made Jess wince, but as she changed back into her clothes, she knew she’d regret leaving without it. Some dresses weren’t just clothes, they were weapons of mass distraction.

At the register, Madi grinned. “I can’t wait to hear about Tom’s face when he sees you in that. Hell, I can’t wait to hear about everyone’s faces at the party.”

They moved to the café next door, shopping bag in hand, settling into a quiet corner. “Oh god, I almost forgot to tell you about Sunday morning,” Jess whispered, leaning forward. She described how she’d woken Tom, her voice dropping even lower. “I just couldn’t resist him lying there all vulnerable...”

“Damn girl!” Madi grinned. “Look who’s embracing her inner vixen!” She wrapped her hands around her cappuccino. “Okay, let me get this straight,” she began. “First you send your workaholic husband some naughty office pictures that get him so worked up he fucks you senseless. Then Mr. nice inches himself eye fucks you at the gym, you tell hubby about it, and the next thing you know, you’re doing a swimsuit photo shoot for your new tenant? Which apparently unleashes your husband’s inner caveman so hard he fills you up raw?”

“When you put it that way...” Jess fidgeted with her coffee cup.

“Oh honey, I’m just getting started,” Madi’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “And then, because apparently that wasn’t enough, you wake him up with that talented mouth of yours and then at night you pull that panty stunt, which by the way, I’m incredibly proud of, and then he breeds you again! Now there might be a baby Marshall in the works?” She took a sip of her cappuccino. “Girl, who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

“It sounds crazy when you list it all out like that.”

“Oh honey, it is crazy. The good kind.” Madi’s grin turned wicked. “Speaking of crazy good... Brandon was over last night.”

“Again?” Jess raised an eyebrow.

Madi smiled. “My thighs are still trembling. That man knows exactly what he’s doing.”

“Madi!” Jess glanced around, but their corner was private enough.

“What? Like you haven’t wondered.” Madi leaned closer. “He wonders about you too, you know. Talks about you sometimes...”

“Stop it,” Jess protested, but her voice lacked conviction.

“Actually,” Madi continued, “he told me all about your little gym encounter. Said you looked, and I quote, ‘absolutely fucking edible.’ Had me bent over not twenty minutes later, describing exactly what he’d do to you.”

“Oh god,” Jess groaned, remembering how Brandon’s eyes had practically undressed her. “He’s impossible.”

“You know, he’s been obsessed with you since the day he met you?”

Jess nearly choked on her coffee. “What? No he hasn’t.”

“Oh please. The way he looks at you? The constant flirting? He always jokes that pushing Tom towards you at that party was his biggest mistake. Says he should have saved you for himself.”

Jess rolled her eyes, though a faint blush colored her cheeks. “I know, he always tells me that. And I always thank him for introducing me to my husband.”

“Yeah, well, the way he looks at you? Trust me, if you weren’t married...”

“Can we please change the subject?”

“Fine, fine.” Madi raised her hands in surrender though her smile remained. “You know, sometimes I think moving to Austin was the best decision we ever made. Remember how scared we were? You and Tom following his job, me following you because I couldn’t stand the thought of losing my best friend...”

“God, those first few months were terrifying,” Jess agreed. “If Brandon hadn’t already been here, showing Tom around, convincing him Austin was perfect...”

“Now look at us. You’re killing it with your design career, I’ve got my event planning business, the boys are successful...” Madi paused. “But I miss having more friends around sometimes. Don’t get me wrong, I love our Austin crew, but it’s not the same as growing up with people.”

“I know what you mean. All our closest friends are back home...”

“Speaking of,” Madi brightened. “We haven’t all done anything together in forever. We should plan something! Double date maybe?”

“With you and Brandon?” Jess laughed. “That’s asking for trouble.”

“Why? Because Brandon can’t keep his eyes off you? Because Tom gets all possessive when Brandon flirts?” Madi smiled. “After what you just told me about this weekend, aren’t you curious about how Tom would react?”

“It’s not... I mean...” Jess stumbled over her words.

“No? Then why are you blushing?” Madi squeezed her hand. “I’m not suggesting anything wild. Just dinner, drinks, dancing. Like old times, before everyone got so busy.”

“I’ll think about it,” she promised.

“That’s my girl.” Madi sat back, satisfied, victory written in her face.

---

When she got home, Jess hung the dress in their walk-in closet. She’d splurged, yes, but after this weekend’s passion, after everything shifting between them, it felt right. Besides, Tom’s promotion would soon make these kinds of purchases easier.

7:30 PM arrived with the sound of Tom’s key in the lock. Something in his footsteps, heavier than usual, made Jess’s hand pause as she stirred the sauce. When he appeared in the kitchen doorway, his suit wrinkled and tie loosened, she knew immediately. Whatever was coming, she wouldn’t like it.

“Hey beautiful,” he said, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Rough day?” Jess kept her voice light, buying time before whatever bomb he was about to drop.

Tom’s briefcase hit the floor with a soft thud. He loosened his tie further, like it was choking him. “Davis called me in this afternoon. The Meridian implementation... there are problems. Critical ones.”

Jess’s wooden spoon scraped the bottom of the pot. “How critical?”

“They need someone on-site in San Diego. Tomorrow morning.” The words landed between them like stones in still water, ripples of implications spreading outward. “I’ll be back Saturday morning.”

The sauce bubbled. “Tomorrow morning,” Jess repeated, her voice carefully neutral. “As in, you’re missing the party Friday night.”

“The flight’s already booked,” Tom said, running a hand through his hair. “Davis made the arrangements himself. This is huge, Jess. If I can fix this, the promotion’s practically guaranteed.”

The wooden spoon clattered against the stovetop as Jess set it down. She gripped the counter’s edge. “When were you planning to tell me? Or did you think I wouldn’t notice you were gone?”

“I’m telling you now,” Tom replied, a defensive edge creeping into his voice.

“And you couldn’t text? Call?” Jess turned to face him fully. “I was shopping with Madi, picking out...” She stopped herself, the dress hanging in their closet now feeling like a joke at her expense. “Never mind.”

Tom stepped closer, reaching for her, but Jess moved away. The movement was subtle but devastating. “Babe, you know how important this is. After the crypto thing, we need this promotion. The extra income, the stability...” His hand gestured vaguely toward her stomach.

Low blow, Jess thought, her hand unconsciously moving to her flat belly. Using their dreams of starting a family to justify another broken promise. But wasn’t that exactly what he’d been doing all along? Working late, missing events, always with the excuse about their future?

“What time’s your flight?” she asked instead of voicing her thoughts.

“6 AM,” Tom replied, relief evident in his voice as she shifted to practical matters. “I need to leave here by 4:30.”

“I’ll drive you,” Jess said, turning back to the stove. The sauce had started to stick to the bottom of the pot, burning slightly.

“You don’t have to-”

“I said I’ll drive you.” Her tone left no room for argument.

Tom hovered uncertainly before moving to the fridge, probably searching for a beer.

“You should eat,” Jess said, her voice softer now. “Then we need to pack.”

Tom’s arms slid around her waist from behind, his chest pressing against her back. “I’m sorry,” he murmured against her hair. “I know this isn’t what we planned.”

Jess didn’t lean back against him but remembered how different his touch had felt this weekend, how desperate and demanding he’d been, like a man starving for her. Now his embrace felt like an apology, and she was tired of accepting those.

“The pasta’s ready,” she said, pulling away. “I’ll go get your suitcase while you eat.”

In their walk-in closet, Jess selected shirts and slacks while Tom ate alone in the kitchen. The dress watched her like an accusation, its perfect drape now useless. She fought the urge to stuff it in the back of the closet, to hide this evidence of her naivety.

Her fingers moved across Tom’s clothes, selecting pieces with careful consideration despite her hurt. The blue shirt that brought out his eyes. The gray slacks fit him perfectly. Even now, hurt and disappointed, she couldn’t help but take care of him.

A text from Madi lit up her phone: “Did you show him the dress yet???”

Jess stared at the message, throat tight. How could she explain that within mere hours, everything had shifted again, that the weekend’s passion already felt like a fading dream? She left the text unanswered and focused on packing.

The suitcase lay open on their bed as Jess folded another shirt. The sound of Tom eating drifted from the kitchen, fork against plate, ice clicking in his glass. Such ordinary sounds for such an extraordinary disappointment.

Minutes later, Tom appeared in the doorway, plate in hand. “I can do that.”

“Almost done,” Jess replied, not looking up. “Did you check your email for the flight details?”

“Yeah, everything’s confirmed.” He set his plate on the dresser, moved closer. “Babe, talk to me. I know you’re upset.”

Jess continued folding. “I’m not upset. I understand. The project needs you. The promotion’s important.”

“But?”

“But nothing.” She zipped the suitcase with more force than necessary. “We both know how this works. Something comes up, plans change, life goes on. I’m used to it.”

“That’s not fair,” Tom protested, but his voice carried a hint of guilt. “This isn’t just another late night at the office. This is different.”

“Is it?” Jess finally turned to face him. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks exactly the same. You making decisions that affect us both without even a phone call. Me rearranging my life to accommodate your career. Again.”

“After this weekend, after everything...” Tom ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “I thought you understood how important this is for our future.”

“I do understand. That’s the problem.” Jess moved past him toward the bathroom. “I always understand. I’m the understanding wife who stays home while you chase promotions. Who smiles and says it’s fine when you miss events.”

The bathroom counter became her new fortress as she began her nighttime routine.

Tom leaned against the doorframe. “You know that’s not true. Babe, this promotion means everything. Better pay, more stability. We could start our family sooner...”

“Don’t.” Jess’s hand tightened around her moisturizer. “Don’t use our future baby to justify this. Not when I might already be...” She couldn’t finish the sentence, couldn’t voice the possibility that had seemed so exciting just hours ago. “I need to shower,” Jess said finally. “Early morning tomorrow.”

Tom hesitated, clearly wanting to say more, to fix this somehow. But what could he say? The flight was booked. The decision made.

“I’ll set the alarm,” he said finally.

Under the hot water, Jess let tears mix with the water, the invisible evidence of her disappointment washing down the drain. She pressed her forehead against the cool tile, allowing herself this private moment of weakness.

She thought about the dress, about Madi’s excitement, her own excitement. The Skyline launch wasn’t just another corporate event. It was her moment, the public unveiling of the project that could cement her reputation in the company. Chris Webb would be there with his investors. Margaret had already hinted that several other potential clients were attending specifically to meet the designers.

How many mind-numbing company dinners had she attended, smiling through Tom’s colleagues’ boring stories? How many times had she rearranged her schedule for his work events, nodding politely while corporate wives discussed recipes and vacation homes? She’d worn uncomfortable heels and laughed at unfunny jokes, all to support his career. And now, when she finally had something worth celebrating, something that was entirely hers, he was flying to San Diego.

When she slipped into bed, she maintained careful distance between their bodies. The same bed where they’d made love so passionately just two nights ago now felt vast and cold.

“Goodnight,” Tom murmured into the darkness.

“Goodnight,” Jess replied, staring at the ceiling.

---

The alarm hadn’t gone off yet when Jess opened her eyes. 4:00 AM glowed red on the bedside clock. She’d barely slept while Tom’s breathing remained deep and even beside her. She slipped from beneath the covers, careful not to wake him for these last precious minutes of rest.

The hardwood was cold beneath her bare feet as she padded to the bathroom. In the mirror, she splashed cold water on her face, the shock helping to ground her in this surreal hour where night bled into morning.

The kitchen felt foreign in pre-dawn darkness. Jess moved through familiar motions, measuring coffee, cracking eggs, buttering toast. The coffee maker’s gentle gurgle filled the silence.

She was plating eggs when Tom appeared, suit jacket draped over his arm. He looked polished and professional, every inch the rising star consultant. Only the shadows under his eyes showed any hint of their tension.

“You didn’t have to cook,” he said softly.

Jess kept her eyes on the plates. “You need to eat before the flight.”

They settled at the kitchen island, the granite cold beneath her forearms. Tom’s fork scraped against ceramic. Neither spoke. The silence felt heavy with all the things they weren’t saying, with the ghost of their weekend’s passion, with the reality of his imminent departure.

“The big meeting’s at ten,” Tom said finally. “I should be done by four their time, if you want to FaceTime...”

“I have client meetings,” Jess replied.

More silence. More coffee growing cold. More pretending this was just another morning, just another business trip, just another necessary sacrifice for their future.

“We should go soon,” Jess said, glancing at the clock. “Traffic might be bad.”

Tom nodded, standing to rinse his mostly full plate. The sound of running water seemed obscenely loud in their quiet kitchen. Jess watched his back, remembering the scratches she’d left there during their passionate reunion. Now the marks were hidden beneath crisp cotton and silk tie, like their weekend never happened.

The suitcase waited by the door. Tom grabbed it while Jess collected her keys and phone. The pre-dawn air hit them as they stepped outside, carrying the promise of another scorching Austin day. But for now, everything was shadow and silence.

Movement caught Jess’s eye. Bob’s kitchen light was on, his broad silhouette visible through the blinds as he moved around his space.

They drove through empty streets, traffic lights cycling for phantom cars. Tom’s hand rested on the center console, palm up in silent invitation, but Jess kept both hands firmly on the steering wheel.

“I really am sorry,” Tom said as they merged onto the highway. “About the party, about everything.”

Jess kept her eyes forward. “I know.”

“When I get back Sat-”

“Let’s just focus on getting you to the airport,” Jess cut him off.

The airport approached too quickly. Jess pulled into short-term parking rather than the departure drop-off. Some masochistic part of her needed to see this through properly, to walk him to security like a dutiful wife should.

Tom’s hand found the small of her back as they walked through sliding doors into fluorescent brightness. Jess allowed it, even as her spine remained rigid beneath his palm.

The check-in counter was nearly empty. They stood in silence as Tom’s bag disappeared down the conveyor belt. All around them, other travelers moved with purpose, business people clutching briefcases, families corralling sleepy children, couples sharing early morning kisses goodbye. Jess felt disconnected from all of it, like she was watching a movie about someone else’s life.

“Security’s not too bad,” Tom observed, gesturing at the short line. “I should probably...”

“Yeah,” Jess agreed quickly. “You don’t want to miss your flight.”

Tom turned to face her fully, his hands finding her shoulders. “I love you,” he said softly. “You know that, right?”

Jess nodded, not trusting her voice.

“I’ll call when I land,” he promised.

“Okay.”

He hesitated, clearly wanting more, a real kiss, a proper goodbye, some acknowledgment of their connection. But Jess remained still, arms crossed over her chest. Finally, Tom pressed a quick kiss to her forehead and stepped back.

“Drive safe,” he said.

Jess watched him join the security line. He turned back once, raising his hand in farewell. She managed a small wave before turning away, her composure finally cracking.

She made it halfway to the parking garage before the tears started.

The Tesla’s interior still held Tom’s scent, his cologne mixing with the leather seats. Jess sat in the parking garage, hands gripping the steering wheel as tears blurred her vision.

Her phone buzzed: “Made it through security. Love you.”

The screen blurred as fresh tears fell. She didn’t reply. What could she say? That she missed him already? That she might be carrying their child while he chased promotions across the country?

The sun was rising by the time she pulled into their driveway. The house looked different somehow, as if Tom’s absence had already changed its character.

Inside, their bedroom still held evidence of their morning rush. The sheets were tangled, her pajamas discarded on the floor. Tom’s side of the bed remained slightly indented. Jess stripped the sheets.

She was loading the washer when she heard muffled sounds in Bob’s apartment. The sound made her intensely aware of her state, wearing only Tom’s t-shirt, legs bare, eyes probably red from crying. She exited the room and closed the door quietly, not wanting him to know she was there.

Back in their bedroom, Jess stood in front of the closet mirror. The emerald green dress caught her eye, still hanging where she’d placed it yesterday. She touched the fabric, remembering her excitement while shopping with Madi. Such a stupid, naive purchase. When would she even wear it now? The office party was Friday, but without Tom there...

Her phone buzzed again: “Boarding soon. Gate’s packed. Wish you were here.”

She replied: “Have a safe flight.”

Simple. Practical. Nothing about how their bed felt too big or how the house seemed to echo with his absence. Nothing about the possibility growing inside her or the way their passionate weekend already felt like a fading dream.

Cannot wait for part 4 this is brilliant

Oh yes hot story, love the various threads with Brandon and Bob and…