weaving us masterfully through the crowd. Not only did I have the best view in the house from behind her, but I got to watch as nearly every man in the crowd, some probably ten years younger than us, gawked at her as she walked by. Almost every one of them. Some for a second, some for far longer—enough to earn swift elbows to the side from their girlfriends.
It would bother the hell out of some guys to have a wife that garnered this much attention—and it does bother G when the roles are reversed and I’m ever the center of lewd glances—but it doesn’t upset me one bit. She’s stunning. Beautiful, sexy, and masterfully in control of it all. She knows it and works it, even if she doesn’t always believe it deep down. And, she’s mine.
“Two vodka sodas,” she called across the bar, up on her toes and leaning dangerously close to the bartender. Certainly using her breasts to our advantage in an effort to be served before the dozen or so people who were there first.
He gave her a swift once-over and got straight to business as if the other customers didn’t exist. He handed her our drinks, and when she turned to hand me mine, the bartender caught sight of me and his face lit up.
“You’re Regan Kane!” he shouted over the crowd, inevitably drawing attention from some people around us. Ones who didn’t know me quickly took out their phones and, undoubtedly, Googled me.
I nodded, air-toasting him. “I am. Thanks for the drink, man.”
He extended his hand across the bar, and I leaned in to complete the handshake. “My girlfriend is a huge fan of yours. I’m texting her to get her down here. Bet she won’t complain about this job after tonight.”
Georgia opened her mouth wide and let out a full-bellied laugh. “Well when she gets here, we’ll be out there.” She gestured to the dance floor and led me away.
I never had to actually do much when Georgia and I went dancing, since she had enough moves for the both of us. Tonight would have been no different, but I put some effort in. If I couldn’t be making love to my wife in the hotel room, I’d do a PG-13 version on the dance floor.
“Brought your moves tonight, Kane?” she breathed heavily, those high heels of her not tripping her up one bit.
I pulled her close. “I want you, Mrs. Kane. Badly.
She let out a low moan I could only feel with my lips against her throat. “I asked you not to call me that.”
My lips grazed across her neck. “But that’s who you are.”
“Is CJ chasing Nessa?” she asked into my ear.
“How romantic,” I teased.
Georgia rolled her eyes, grinning. “I’m serious.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think so, but I’m not … in charge of anyone. Why? You’re really shaken up about Frankie, huh?”
She nodded, looking lost for a moment. “They’d been doing so well. He’d been doing so well. Do you think he got scared? Cold feet?”
“It’s hard to say with CJ. Frankie was the longest I’d ever seen him with anyone. I didn’t think he did relationships.” Despite our semi-serious conversation, we never lost beat with the music. Georgia turned her back to me, grinding against me and speaking over her shoulder.
“He didn’t. Until her. After they’d been together six months I thought maybe she was a stepping-stone to his budding adulthood, which would have been progress. After two years I figured they were as good as betrothed. I think she did, too.” She faced me again, worry still in her eyes. “Is life on the road that good? To risk an entire relationship?”
I sighed, feeling the weight of her question. Her real question. Would you ever do to me what he’s done to her?
“It’s horrible,” I admitted, half-serious. “The road or you? I’d choose you every time.”
Half her mouth flicked up into a grin. “I’d never make you choose.”
Playfully biting her shoulder, I answered, “And I love you for it.”
With conversation seemingly transitioning away from Frankie,
It would bother the hell out of some guys to have a wife that garnered this much attention—and it does bother G when the roles are reversed and I’m ever the center of lewd glances—but it doesn’t upset me one bit. She’s stunning. Beautiful, sexy, and masterfully in control of it all. She knows it and works it, even if she doesn’t always believe it deep down. And, she’s mine.
“Two vodka sodas,” she called across the bar, up on her toes and leaning dangerously close to the bartender. Certainly using her breasts to our advantage in an effort to be served before the dozen or so people who were there first.
He gave her a swift once-over and got straight to business as if the other customers didn’t exist. He handed her our drinks, and when she turned to hand me mine, the bartender caught sight of me and his face lit up.
“You’re Regan Kane!” he shouted over the crowd, inevitably drawing attention from some people around us. Ones who didn’t know me quickly took out their phones and, undoubtedly, Googled me.
I nodded, air-toasting him. “I am. Thanks for the drink, man.”
He extended his hand across the bar, and I leaned in to complete the handshake. “My girlfriend is a huge fan of yours. I’m texting her to get her down here. Bet she won’t complain about this job after tonight.”
Georgia opened her mouth wide and let out a full-bellied laugh. “Well when she gets here, we’ll be out there.” She gestured to the dance floor and led me away.
I never had to actually do much when Georgia and I went dancing, since she had enough moves for the both of us. Tonight would have been no different, but I put some effort in. If I couldn’t be making love to my wife in the hotel room, I’d do a PG-13 version on the dance floor.
“Brought your moves tonight, Kane?” she breathed heavily, those high heels of her not tripping her up one bit.
I pulled her close. “I want you, Mrs. Kane. Badly.
She let out a low moan I could only feel with my lips against her throat. “I asked you not to call me that.”
My lips grazed across her neck. “But that’s who you are.”
“Is CJ chasing Nessa?” she asked into my ear.
“How romantic,” I teased.
Georgia rolled her eyes, grinning. “I’m serious.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think so, but I’m not … in charge of anyone. Why? You’re really shaken up about Frankie, huh?”
She nodded, looking lost for a moment. “They’d been doing so well. He’d been doing so well. Do you think he got scared? Cold feet?”
“It’s hard to say with CJ. Frankie was the longest I’d ever seen him with anyone. I didn’t think he did relationships.” Despite our semi-serious conversation, we never lost beat with the music. Georgia turned her back to me, grinding against me and speaking over her shoulder.
“He didn’t. Until her. After they’d been together six months I thought maybe she was a stepping-stone to his budding adulthood, which would have been progress. After two years I figured they were as good as betrothed. I think she did, too.” She faced me again, worry still in her eyes. “Is life on the road that good? To risk an entire relationship?”
I sighed, feeling the weight of her question. Her real question. Would you ever do to me what he’s done to her?
“It’s horrible,” I admitted, half-serious. “The road or you? I’d choose you every time.”
Half her mouth flicked up into a grin. “I’d never make you choose.”
Playfully biting her shoulder, I answered, “And I love you for it.”
With conversation seemingly transitioning away from Frankie,
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