Yes: A Hotwife Romance Read Online Free PDF

chef who the real boss was.
    Now he was pulling out his cock. It was thick and just as veiny as his hands.
    I could see Angie, staring at it, too. She was mesmerized, spreading her legs wider, begging for it to be inside her.
    My lusty rage boiled over and I sprang to life.
    I pulled open drawers, frantically searching for my wallet. When I couldn't find it, I raced upstairs and grabbed a wad of cash from the envelope in the dresser.
    I thundered back down the stairs, my hands gliding along the wall. I didn't know where my phone was, either. I started planning. Run out to Ninth Street, catch a cab. Tell him to take the tunnel because the bridge was always solid this time of day...
    In between every motion, every step down the stairs, visions of their bodies entwined filled my mind not leaving room to think.
    I caught another glimpse of myself in the mirror. Seeing myself dulled the angry tableau.
    I shook my head. What the hell was I doing? What the hell was I thinking? Angeline was going to work. She wasn't going to fuck her sous-chef. She was going to work. I leaned back against the wall. In the rush to get her out the door I hadn't even had a coffee.
    Maybe I would start with that.

Chapter 7

    She scared the shit out of me when she got home. It was late. I hadn't noticed how late because I'd been working, trying to catch up for the time I'd lost sleeping in that morning. I had my head phones on and she tapped me on the shoulder. I screamed. Hopefully not too much like a girl.
    "Holy shit!" she yelled, jumping backwards and almost falling over.
    My heart was pounding in my chest. I took the scene in. She was...overdressed somehow. And holding flowers. With one hand on my chest, I reached out to her with the other.
    "I'm sorry. It's these new noise-cancelling headphones," I explained.
    "It's okay," she laughed and waved it away. Her "s" sounded very sibilant. I stepped towards her, leaned in for a kiss. Was that whisky on her breath?
    "What's up with the flowers?" I asked.
    "They're for you," she explained.
    "For me?"
    "For you." She smiled and kissed my cheek. This was strange.
    "For what?"
    "For being a bitch."
    "Um...thanks?"
    "Oh shit," she giggled, putting a hand over her mouth. Yup. Definitely drunk. "I mean for
me
being a cunt. This morning. For you putting up with me being a cunt. Right? Is that right?"
    Nervous energy sizzled through me. Why was she drunk? I didn't want to start a fight.
    "Right. Or something. You been drinking?"
    "Maybe a teeny bit." She put her thumb and finger together and squinted her eyes, trying to peer at me in between them.
    I couldn't help the frown that crawled across my brow. "That's unusual."
    She sighed, not noticing, or maybe ignoring the irritation in my voice. "Shit was crazy tonight. Will and I needed a stiff one after work. No big deal."
    A surge of jealous electricity ran through me, tickling my toes. Calm down.
    She threw her massive purse on the chair in the office, then set the flower down next to my keyboard on the desk and began peeling off her coat.
    "I didn't know you guys were that buddy-buddy," I mused, hoping I didn't sound too worried.
    If I did, she didn't notice. "Ah, you know. We have a drink every now and again. He's a real good kid."
    So I gathered. From that thing she'd said about his hands.
    She stopped, suddenly. Her coat half-on, half-off. She looked up at me and tilted her head to one side, smiling.
    "Wait. Are you...jealous?" The corner of her lip turned up even more when she said that last word.
    My stomach tightened into a knot. What to say? I guess I was.
    "Nah," I lied, trying to wave the question away. I turned to take the flowers off of my desk.
    "Wait," she said and I felt her hand on my wrist. I didn't want to look at her. It felt like she could read exactly what I was thinking. "You are, aren't you?"
    When I did look at her, she was delighted that she'd guessed right."I'm not," I answered, trying not to sound cranky. "Did you drive?"
    She shook her