Wet Desires:{Erotica Collections}

—•MEGAN•—

The bass from the club thrums in my bones, but the sting in my heart is louder.

I drain the last of my drink, letting the burn settle into something like courage.

Beside me, a handsome stranger lounges against the bar, the strobe lights catching in his dark blue eyes.

I rise from my chair and step closer to him, close enough that my lips brush the shell of his ear just so he can hear me over the music.

“Will you fuck me for a thousand dollars?” I ask.

He just stares at me at first, his eyes widening slightly.

Then he lifts his champagne glass to his lips and takes a sip.

He drops the glass back onto the counter with a sharp click, and a slow smile curves across his lips.

I take a step back, eyes locked on him, holding my breath as I wait for his reaction.

Is he going to curse me out?

Or say no and make me regret every step I took to get here, every nerve I summoned to ask him such a question

“Well, well,” he says.

He lifts a hand and lets his fingers trail down my left arm, his touch sending shivers down my spine.

“Of course, darling. I would gladly do so.”

I stare at him, slightly stunned.

He agrees—he actually agrees.

I let out the breath I’ve been holding with a shaky sigh and whisper, “Okay,” a small, trembling smile curling on my lips.

“But you know,” he says, leaning in closer.

His cologne hits me instantly.

God. It smells so good… so expensive.

“I would have fucked you for free,” he adds.

I meet his gaze, steadying my voice. “The reason I’m asking you to fuck me for a thousand dollars… is that it comes with a condition.”

He arches an eyebrow, curiosity and amusement flickering in his eyes. “What condition?”

“You’ll have to fuck me in front of my husband.

He freezes, staring at me like I’ve lost my mind.

Then a low whistle escapes him. “Wow… didn’t see that coming.”

“Yeah, I know. Not exactly the kind of thing anyone says on a normal day.”

He chuckles. “No, definitely not. But why?”

“I want to get back at my husband,” I say flatly. “I caught him cheating on me last week— in our bedroom. I want to do the same to him.”

“Wow.” His gaze sharpens, drifting over me with new interest.

“You’re bold. And I like it.” He lifts his glass, downs the last of his champagne, and sets it back on the table with a soft click. “Cash or transfer?”

“I’ll give you the payment in full once it’s done.

“When?"

“By this time next week.”

He nods, reaches into his suit jacket, and pulls out a sleek white business card.

Taking my hand, he slips his card into it. “Call me.”

“Alright.”

“Can I get your name?”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “You don’t need to.”

He rises from his seat, a smile forming on his lips as he stares at me. “See you next week.”

And just like that, he walks away, disappearing into the crowd.

I exhale, a shudder running through me, and lift the business card in my hand, my eyes tracing the name and number.

“Christian Harrington. Nice name.”

I slip the business card into my bag, take the seat Christian just vacated, and order another glass of champagne.

As I sip the champagne, my thoughts spin.

Is this really a good idea?

Having sex with a total stranger… and making my husband watch?

I’ve never done anything like this before.

I sigh, trying to calm my racing thoughts.

I’ve already come this far—I might as well go through with it.

Coming straight to the club after my shift at the hospital has become a regular routine lately, a way to keep my mind off the memory I can’t seem to forget.

The memory of my husband, Issac, fucking another woman in our bedroom still burns in my mind.

When I caught him, he begged me, calling it a mistake.

But how can cheating ever be a mistake?

I told him I had forgiven him, but I hadn’t.

I couldn’t.

Every time I look at Isaac, the image of the face he made while his cock was buried deep in that woman’s pussy flashes in my mind.

The memory hits me hard every goddamn time, sending a sharp sting through my chest.

Drinking doesn’t ease the ache.

Nothing does.

My mind keeps dragging me back to that moment.

I try my best to forget that painful memory, but I can’t.

So I make a decision.

I’m going to make Isaac feel exactly the way he made me feel.

Fucking a stranger, just like he did, and making him sit there and watch.

He needs to feel the exact pain tearing me apart.

It’s the only way.

***********

NEXT WEEK

Today is the day I plan to get my revenge on Isaac.

I contacted Christian a few days ago and had him take a full panel of STD tests.

The results all came back negative, and I was glad when I saw them.

I’m going to fuck Christian raw, and I refuse to risk catching an STD.

Prevention is better than cure, after all.

Yesterday, I called Christian and gave him my home address, finalizing every detail of our plan.

I stand in my bedroom, wearing the black-and-white bunny lingerie I ordered.

The sheer white black bra barely covers my breasts, my nipples visible beneath the delicate fabric.

A tiny white G-string and black transparent net leggings hug my hips and a black band with bunny ears perches on my head.

I’m going to seduce my husband with this outfit, tease him, and then break him.

Everything is perfectly planned.

I check the clock on the wall.

It’s 7:49 PM.

Isaac should be home any minute, but Christian is supposed to arrive first.

We planned for him to get here before Isaac.

I press a hand to my chest, feeling my heart race.

I can’t lie—I’m nervous as hell.

This is the first time I’ll be fucking another man besides Issac.

I married him as a virgin.

Ding-dong!

Ding-dong!

The doorbell rings.

I bolt to the front door, hoping it’s Christian.

I glance through the peephole.

It’s him.

He’s wearing a plain white polo and grey sweatpants.

Letting out a sigh, I open the door.

“Damn,” Christian breathes, his eyes roaming my body. He bites his lower lip. “You look so fucking sexy.”

I roll my eyes. “Come in before someone sees you.”

I grab his arm and pull him inside, shutting the door quickly.

As I lead him upstairs to our bedroom, his eyes stay glued to my ass.

“Damn, look at that fucking ass,” he groans. “I can’t wait to fuck it. I’m gonna make a mess of it.”

His words send a shiver straight down my spine.

I smile and glance back at him over my shoulder.

When we reach my bedroom, I pull Christian inside and lead him straight to the ensuite bathroom.

“Stay in here,” I say. “When everything is in place, I’ll call you out.”

“Why do I have to stay in the bathroom?” he asks, frowning. “Can’t I wait in another room or something?”

“This is the best place. Don’t worry Issac won’t come in here.”

“This wasn’t part of the deal,” he says, leaning against the doorframe.

“Yeah, well. Sorry.”

Christian looks at me, his gaze darkening.

“Kiss me.”

I freeze. “What?”

“Kiss me. That’s the only way I’m letting this go and staying in here.”

I stare at him, shocked.

“Don’t give me that face, darling,” he says, a sly grin curling his lips. “Besides, we’re going to kiss and fuck anyway. No difference doing it now.”

“We… we can’t kiss, now—”

But he doesn’t let me finish.

In an instant, he closes the distance and crashes his mouth against mine.