They Paid Me to Fix Their Marriage, So I Took Over Their Bed novel · Chapter 2 of 24

Chapter 2: After Hours

On her office armchair Signe has Hana undress her with her mouth while Dane is ordered to watch with his hands on the arms of the loveseat.

"Take off your sweater," I said to Hana.

I sat back down in my own chair, crossed my legs and watched her do it.

She stood up from the loveseat and pulled the gray sweater over her head in one motion.

Her short hair stood up in the static.

Under it she wore a plain black bra and a faint line of clay dust along one collarbone.

"Slowly," I said.

She slowed.

She unhooked the bra, let it drop and stood there in the lamplight with her arms at her sides.

Her breasts were small and round, with dark nipples that tightened in the cool air of the office.

She had a long pale scar on her right forearm from a kiln door, and burns in a line on her left wrist.

"Jeans," I said.

"Dane," I said, without turning my head. "Hands on the arms of the loveseat. Flat. I want to see them the whole time."

He put them there.

They were huge, with freckles across the backs and rope calluses at the base of every finger.

They gripped the upholstery hard enough to pucker it.

"You don't touch her," I said. "You don't touch yourself. You watch."

"Yes, Doctor."

His voice was rough.

Hana unbuttoned her jeans and pushed them down with her underwear, stepped out of them and kicked them away.

She was shaved, and she was already glistening on the inside of one thigh.

I had heard every kind of desire described in that room for six years, and I had never once been in the middle of it.

I was in the middle of it now.

"Come here," I said.

She crossed the rug and stopped in front of my chair.

She was very close, and I could smell her skin, warm and a little sweet, with the mineral smell of clay under it.

"Take off my skirt."

She went down on her knees.

She found the zipper at the side, drew it open and slid the skirt down my legs while I lifted my hips for her.

Then she took the waist of my tights in both hands and peeled them down, and my underwear with them.

I was wet.

I had been wet since she put her hand on my knee.

The dark patch on the cotton was there for both of them to see.

She saw it, and she looked up at me, flushed to the throat.

"Tell me to stop," I said. "Go on. It's a dare."

"No," Hana said.

"Then use your mouth."

I opened my knees and slid forward in the chair until my backside was on the edge of it.

Hana set her hands on my thighs.

She kissed the inside of my left knee, and then higher, slow.

Her lips were parted, and the tip of her tongue just touched the skin.

She kissed the crease where my thigh met my hip.

She was making me wait, and I let her for exactly as long as I could stand it.

"Higher," I said.

She put her mouth on me.

The first stroke of her tongue was flat and warm, and it went the whole way up.

I made a sound I had never made in that room.

"Again."

She did it again.

She licked me slowly, with the wide flat of her tongue, from my entrance up to my clit.

Then she closed her lips around the top of it and sucked, very lightly.

My head went back against the chair.

"Good," I said. "Like that. Don't stop that."

She did not stop.

She moaned against me, and the sound went through me from the inside.

She was patient.

She found the exact spot and stayed on it, and she changed the pressure only when my hips told her to.

"Dane," I said. "What do you see?"

He cleared his throat.

"I see her back."

"More."

"I see her..." His breath shook. "Her ass, in the light. Her hands on your legs. She's soaked, Doctor. She's dripping on your rug."

Hana moaned again, louder, and pushed her face harder against me.

"Tell her she's good," I said.

There was a silence.

"You're good, Hana," Dane said.

His voice cracked on her name.

She went still for a second against my thigh, and I felt her shake.

Then she moaned and went back to work with her tongue, faster, hungrier.

I understood that nobody had said that to her in a long time.

I put my fingers in her short hair and held her head.

"Your hand," I said to her. "Your right hand. Between your own legs."

She hesitated for the length of a breath.

Then I felt her arm move, and I heard the small wet sound of her touching herself.

A shudder ran through her and into my thigh.

"Dane," I said. "Watch what she does."

"I'm watching."

"She's touching herself because I told her to. Not because of you."

"I know." He swallowed. "I know that, Doctor."

"Does it bother you?"

"No," he said. "It's the best thing I've ever seen."

Hana whimpered against me, and her hips began to roll.

She was close.

I could feel it in how her mouth lost its rhythm, how she gasped into me, and I tightened my fingers in her hair.

"Not yet," I said. "Not before me. You wait."

She whined and slowed, and her tongue went soft and careful again.

"Good girl," I said.

She shook all over.

"Lower now," I said. "Inside. Use your tongue."

She dipped it into me and fucked me with it in shallow, quick strokes, and slid back up to my clit.

I started to lose the thread of what I was telling her.

"Two fingers," I said. "Now."

She pushed two fingers into me, slow, up to the knuckle.

I clenched around her and cursed.

She curled them forward, against the front wall, and her tongue never left my clit.

I looked down my own body at the top of her black head moving between my thighs.

I looked across the room at her husband, rigid on the loveseat.

His jaw was set, there was sweat on his temple, and the front of his trousers strained.

He was watching her mouth on me.

He had not looked away once.

"Don't look at me," I said. "Look at her. That's your wife's tongue."

"I know," he said. "God, I know."

The sound of it filled the office, wet and quick.

Rain drummed on the roof.

"Faster," I said to Hana. "Just there. Don't change anything."

She did not change anything.

The pressure built low and tight, and I got my heels onto the edge of the chair and pushed up against her mouth.

My thighs shook.

"Hana," I said. "Hana, I'm going to"

I came.

It broke over me hard and long, in pulses that I felt in my toes and in the roots of my teeth.

I heard myself cry out into the quiet room.

She kept her mouth on me through all of it, gentle now, slow, her fingers still pressing up inside.

She drew out the last of it until I had to push her head back with both hands.

I sat there with my chest heaving.

My glasses had slid down out of my hair onto the carpet.

Hana knelt back on her heels with her chin and lips shining.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her wrist, and she laughed at herself, breathless, and put her head down on my knee.

"Oh my God," she said.

"Up," I said.

She came up.

I took her by the back of the neck and kissed her, deep, and tasted myself on her tongue.

She moaned into my mouth and clutched at my blouse.

Over her shoulder, Dane made a low broken sound.

I let her go, and I looked at him.

"Stand up," I said.

He stood.

He had to use the arm of the loveseat to do it.

"Take your belt off. Leave your hands at your sides afterward."

He undid the belt and drew it out of the loops.

He dropped it on the floor.

Then he stood with his arms by his sides and his shirt half open and the shape of his erection pushing hard against his zipper.

He was trembling.

I stood, naked from the waist down, and I stepped up close to him.

I was tall, and our eyes were nearly level.

I put my hand flat on the front of his trousers.

He was hot through the cloth, thick and heavy, and he groaned and shut his eyes.

I squeezed once, and drew my hand the length of him, once.

"Doctor," he said. "Please."

"You haven't earned it."

"I'll earn it. Tell me how."

"You'll wait," I said.

I took my hand away.

He flinched, and a raw sound came out of him.

Hana had pulled my cardigan from the back of the chair and was holding it against her bare chest.

She looked from his face to mine with her whole body flushed.

She wanted to speak and did not.

I walked to my desk and picked up a pen and a card, and wrote my address on the card in capitals.

I held it out to Hana.

"Friday," I said. "Eight o'clock. My house."

"Don't touch yourselves before then. Either of you. I'll know."

Dane stared at me.

"How?" he said.

"I'm very good at my job," I said, and I unlocked the door.

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