Getting sexy. Kayla Perrin

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       OhmyGodtellmeheisn’tpropositioningthebartender!

      “I was thinking something fruity,” I quickly tell Jason. “Maybe with vodka, or rum. Something that will make me think of lazy days on an island beach.”

      “Got ya.”

      Jason spins around and grabs some bottles. If he thought there was anything strange about Adam’s words, he’s chosen to ignore it.

      Thank the Lord.

      I lift my sunglasses and glare at Adam. He flashes me a devilish smile, one that confirms my worst fear.

      What’s happened to you, Adam? I wonder.

      What’s happened to the man I love?

      On Monday, I’m still feeling very weird about what happened on the weekend with the bartender. I could stay home and ruminate by myself, but instead I call An-nelise and see if she wants to get together for dinner. Nothing fancy, just dinner at my place. Lishelle’s working, or I would have invited her, too.

      But maybe it’s good that it’s just me and Annelise. Not only do we have to discuss the wedding photography, I’ve decided to confide in her about my concerns over Adam. Originally, I figured I might broach the subject of Adam’s bizarre sexual appetite with Lishelle, but considering Annelise is in a relationship, she might be the better one to discuss this with. Because I have to talk to someone, or I’m gonna go out of my mind.

      I swallow my bite of Caesar salad, then put down my fork. “Annelise,” I say cautiously.

      She looks up from her salad. “Yeah?”

      I think of how best to phrase what I want to ask, but there’s only one way to say it. I’ve got to say it straight. “Does Charles ever want…really kinky sex?”

      Annelise’s eyes widen in surprise. “Why do you ask that?”

      “I just…” I lean forward and whisper, as though there’s a fly on the wall that could hear us. “Adam is into all kinds of weird stuff lately. I’m hoping it’s a phase. But I’m also wondering…is it me? Am I uncomfortable with it because I’m a prude or something? I know times have changed drastically even in ten years, so maybe it is me. Then again…” I blow out a breath. “I know it’s a personal question, but has Charles ever been into…weird stuff? And if so, did he get over it? I guess I want to hear that it won’t last forever.”

      Annelise clears her throat. “Wow. That was—”

      “A mouthful, I know. And probably too much information. But I need to know if I’m obsessing over this, or if perhaps I need to be more sexually liberated.”

      Annelise’s fork clinks against her plate as she lowers it. “I’m afraid I can’t help you. I have no experience in that department.”

      “Damn,” I mutter. “So Adam is a freak—that’s what you think?”

      “You haven’t said enough for me to form an opinion. Just how ‘kinky’ are we talking?”

      I can’t meet her inquiring gaze. “Anal sex,” I admit shamefully. “Having sex in public places. Not that anyone would see us,” I quickly point out, “but there’s the threat of getting caught. That threat really turns him on. Then on Friday night…” I let out a heavy sigh. “He bought me a strap-on. As a present for me.”

      Annelise’s eyes bulge. “What?”

      “I know. It’s horrible, isn’t it?”

      “But I don’t get—”

      “He said he wants me to do him.” Now I meet Annelise’s blue-eyed gaze. “Can you believe it?”

      Annelise shakes her head. “I’m sorry. Not really.”

      I groan my dissatisfaction. “I knew it. I knew this was over the top.” I push my salad away, no longer hungry. “And please, don’t mention this to Lishelle. I’m embarrassed enough as it is.”

      “Honey, I only wish I had your problem.”

      Now my eyes widen. “What?”

      “Maybe a strap-on is a little freaky, but at least Adam wants to have sex with you. Experience it all with you. I’d love it if I had that in my life.”

      “Okay, I’m a little lost. No, a lot lost.”

      Annelise sighs softly. “I haven’t said anything before because…well, because it’s been too painful. But Charles hasn’t slept with me in over fourteen months.”

      I’m so stunned, I can’t even speak.

      “Yeah, it’s true. My husband doesn’t even want to touch me. It’s a real boost to my self-esteem, let me tell you.”

      “Oh my God.” I reach across the table to cover An-nelise’s hand. “Honey.”

      “It’s driving me nuts. I’m at my wit’s end. I’m trying so hard, but he’s always so tired, so stressed. And when I touch him, it’s like he’s a block of stone.”

      “I had no clue.”

      “I didn’t want to say anything, but since we’re talking about sex. I welcome any suggestions you might have.”

      “You could always borrow my strap-on.”

      That gets a smile from Annelise. We both laugh.

      Then I ask, “What have you tried?”

      “Candles, nice dinners, wine. All that. Stuff to relax him and get him in the mood. But nothing’s been working. So, last week, I went to a…a sex shop. I picked up this slutty French maid’s outfit. It was raunchy, let me tell you.”

      “That didn’t work?” I ask in surprise. I don’t know a man alive who doesn’t get turned on by the French maid fantasy.

      Annelise shakes her head in disappointment. “He completely ignored me. Turned on a soccer game, and I don’t think he even likes soccer.”

      “Wow. This calls for drastic measures.”

      “I know, but what?”

      Going to a swingers’ club… But I don’t dare suggest that because I can’t admit to anyone that I went there with Adam, albeit unwillingly.

      “I don’t know,” I say after a moment. “Let me think about it. In the meantime, I hope his stress level lessens. He is working on that big case.”

      “I know, I know. Believe me, I know. And I feel for all those people who got sick from Kitler’s Cookies. I support all the hard work he’s doing. But isn’t sex supposed to be a great stress reliever?”

      “I thought so. For Adam it definitely is.”

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