Page 81 of Insta Bride
Holding her open with my thumbs, I licked her walls. I plunged and sucked and teased until her hips started to buck. As she screamed my name, I massaged her clit—rubbing it until she gushed. I didn’t stop, sucking as second orgasm from her, only stopping when her legs squeezed together, and she begged me to bring her down.
I carried my wife to our shower and cleaned away the workday. Gently soaping her until the water ran cold.
All night, I showed her how much I loved her, without saying the words.
But I couldn’t help feeling like Elena had started building a wall between us. Each time social media did a number on me, or on our relationship, she’d become more guarded.
Someone was intentionally trying to sabotage my marriage. My only defence was the truth—I hadn’t lied to or cheated on my wife.
Elena
“Do you think he did it?”
Tash was my voice of reason. After our exes had dumped us for other women, she’d been my rock and I’d been hers.
Olivia answered for me, “Of course, he didn’t do it. Have you even seen the way he looks at Elena?”
“We’ve all seen the way he looks at her,” Tash continued as if I wasn’t in the room. “Maybe he looks at any woman he’s with as if she’s the only woman in the universe. Maybe that’s his special gift. Every cheater has a superpower—some can lie.”
“He’s not a liar,” I confirmed, wishing my friends could find another hobby other than stalking my husband on social media.
“Agreed. He talks too much to be a liar.” Tash spoke with the authority of a smashed heart. “If he talks that much, eventually he’d trip himself over.”
“Look,” I said, getting sick of defending the indefensible. “Kye told me he knew all of these women back in the day. They are old photos rehashed for click bait.”
“So, tell us about last weekend?” Olivia poured us each a glass of bubbles and we curled up on sunbeds around her pool. Hunter had lashed out on the perfect home, complete with pool house for guests, and a gardener who was total eye-candy and on Jess’ To Be Raked list.
“Kye wanted us to go away. No fan fair and no publicity.”
“Sounds heavenly.” Tash sighed. “Go on and pretend I’m not thinking about your hot man naked and getting back to nature.”
“My city slicker husband,” I emphasised to remind Tash she could only have my husband in her dreams, “Organised for a weekend at the Southern Highlands. A friend of his has a brother who owns a property. They usually use it as a recording studio, but they were willing to let us crash. They often have musicians and actors stay, so they made sure we weren’t bothered by media.”
“You’re saying those photos couldn’t have been of Kye?”
“They were of Kye, but not last weekend. Saturday night, we were sitting around a campfire down at the back paddock. Kye cooked a bar-b-que over the flames and then killed so many songs trying to play a guitar, that the band who’d finished recording up at the house, came down and joined in. Kye cooked, they sang and it was the best night since we left the island.”
I showed my friends photos from the weekend, and shrugged when they recognised the band. We’d only seen them for those few hours and they’d left before Kye and I woke the next day.
“Keep it up.” Olivia warned. “Make sure you go off the radar and out of sight. Not all the time, but enough so you know the photos are fake. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter if you win the money or not—but you deserve to know when your husband is being set up.”
“What do you mean, you’ve never been bowling before?”
I couldn’t believe my normally unflappable husband seemed almost fearful at the idea of going ten-pin bowling with my friends.
At first, I’d thought he didn’t want to spend time with my girlfriends, Hunter, Caleb and Pete. We’d invited Dawson and Randi from the show, but they had a paid nightclub event they couldn’t afford to miss.
But no, Kye had offered almost a dozen other suggestions for a night out with friends—all to avoid putting his ability to handle balls on display.
“Bowling’s never been my thing,” he said, smoothing back his hair into a baby man bun. Damn, he kept getting better looking the more I saw him.
It didn’t hurt that we were currently in a good place, marriage-wise. I got to see my husband in all his naked glory, any time of the day or night I felt in the mood.
Sometimes there were flowers and candles. No man could romance the dishes off the table like my husband. At the same time, he was also a threat to the stability of any furniture.
Other times, if one of us were tired or pressed for time, there was a no-nonsense fuck. Yes, there were kisses and foreplay. I always collapsed in utter satisfaction. But, Kye knew when to take his time or when not to waste time.
My husband walked through life with a confident arrogance normally reserved for old-money. He wore his off the rack clothes as if they were designer made.