Katya

I pulled the spoon out of the ‘gravy’. It was so thick it reminded me of hummus. He had put far too much flour into it. When I put my finger into the warm paste and brought it towards my lips, Seth grabbed my wrist.

“Don’t do it, baby. I need you alive,” he said with so much intensity that I paused.

How bad could it be?

I leaned in, licked my fingertip, and winced. Whatever this was, it was not salvageable. When I glanced at Seth, he looked ashamed of himself and quickly looked away.

“I wanted tonight to be perfect,” he muttered, still clutching my wrist.

“Why don't you grab me a glass of wine, and I can show you how to fix dinner? It was almost there. Well, not this,” I said, waving the spoon. “This would need to be destroyed as toxic waste in a hazmat suit.”

His dark eyes softened, and he released my wrist to take the spoon from me. He had trimmed his beard down and had a haircut since this morning's yoga fiasco. Every dirty little bitch in my class had been looking at my husband's dick. There was no denying the size of his package. I was too angry at them to be angry at him for flaunting his goods around.

The whole experience gave me an inkling of why Seth chased that guy away in the nightclub. I was ready to scratch out Jessica’s eyes, and she hadn't even touched him. She had been eyeing him up like a piece of meat, which was accurate but unacceptable.

“Teach me your ways,” he said with a grin before he kissed my cheek and went to get the wine glasses.

I watched him as he poured us some wine. He was excited at the prospect of me teaching him cooking tips. This was nothing like the old Seth. At best, he would grudgingly help with menial tasks in the kitchen, but most of the time, he was never home when I cooked.

Once, I had a glass of wine in my hand. I instructed him on how to assemble the meat and vegetables on a rack to pressure cook it all in the large Instant Pot. He was like my students firing a million questions. With the seasoning and herbs he’d used on the food, dinner was perfect. Neither of us missed the ‘gravy’.

I initially hesitated when we proceeded into the dining room, but his whispered apology and kiss softened the blow. The amount of times I’d sat and ate alone in the room was a stark reminder of why I’d left. It took me a few moments to shake it off before we enjoyed one another's company for the evening.

∞∞∞

He was attentive all night, like the perfect host. He had removed his jacket to reveal a plain white T-shirt, like the one he had worn this morning. We sat in the living room, and Seth had the fire burning. He held my hand against his chest.

“It feels good to have you home, Kat. Thank you for coming,” he said softly, breaking the silence.

“You're welcome,” I sighed and rested my head on his shoulder. Fear was the only thing stopping me from moving back in permanently. “It’s been nice dating and spending more time with you.”

His hand tightened around mine. We weren’t there yet, no matter how badly I needed his dick.

∞∞∞

I smiled at the selfie Seth put on his profile picture and hit like. We both looked like a normal couple in love. He tagged me on a post with the same image. The caption on it read, ‘My Queen and I’. He rarely posted on his social media. It was pointless for him to have it. I noticed a DM from him, and I opened it up.

My smile vanished when I saw the thirst trap grey shorts, only this time his dick was fully erect. I could see every detail from the curved tip to his balls because the loose material was bunched up between his thighs. I swallowed when I saw he was in bed.

Seth: I woke up like this.

??

Me: That looks painful. You should get it looked at or rub some of last night's toxic waste on it . ??

I replied before I zoomed into the picture when his message popped up to ruin my inspection.

Seth: You're the cause of it. I think you should come by and take care of it . ??

It was a tempting booty call, and it didn ’ t matter that it was with my husband because it felt like the build-up to a dirty hookup.

I lay on my side and yanked my vest top down to get a clear shot of my cleavage. The picture looked okay, and there were no identifying features, not that Seth would share it with anyone. We had never done this before.

Me: That’s the only form of relief I can send you at the moment .

Seth: Pretty, but not a nipple in sight . ??

Me: I’m too classy for a nip slip .

Seth: What if I paid you for your services? I’m a very wealthy man. You can look me up if you want .

I sat up to stare at my phone because that sounded like a hot fantasy.

Me: My prices aren't cheap like fuckboy’s, and I would expect a five-star hotel as a minimum requirement .

God, what was I doing?

I nervously waited for his reply.

What was taking him so long?

Then it dawned on me he was rubbing one out. I was about to reach for my vibrator when another message popped up.

Seth: Tonight at 8 pm. The Kensington Hotel. Meet me in the Knightsbridge Suite. A keycard will be at reception, and a car will pick you up .

Surprised at how quickly he arranged everything, I covered my mouth with my fingers. Last night made me sad being back home, but this was neutral territory, as I’d suggested a few weeks ago.

Me: I looked you up, and you have a wife .

I grinned at my phone.

Seth: Do you want me to bring her?

Me: No, three is a crowd. I only take cash, and it’s ￡20 per minute.

Seth : That isn't a problem.

Well, that escalated quickly.

I giggled at my ridiculous request and his response, but I felt excited at the same time. The thought of pretending to be a high-end prostitute for Seth made me reach for my vibrator. There was no way I could last until tonight.