Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
“Exactly,” he confirms, returning her smile with a fondness that prickles my protective instincts. “No Morris. He only comes for the real parties.” He gestures to the couples dancing. “Tonight’s more about feeling things out, seeing if people mesh.”
I bite back the irritation rising in my gut. If Morris isn’t even here, what the hell are we supposed to learn tonight? I toss a glance at Isabel, who’s keeping her composure, though I can practically sense the disappointment rolling off her.
We excuse ourselves politely, drifting to the edge of the dance floor, trying to figure out our next move. The slow, pulsing music, the clink of champagne glasses, the hush of private conversations—it’s all a heady mix, but none of it leads us to Rolfe.
Just as I’m about to suggest we try another group, a couple materializes from the far side of the couches. They’re dressed to the nines: the man in a tailored navy suit, the woman in a shimmering gold gown that plunges low at the neckline. They’re both attractive in that polished, upper-echelon kind of way, and they approach us with curious smiles.
“You two look new,” the woman says, crossing her arms under her chest, her posture clearly confident. The man offers an easy grin, eyes flicking between me and Isabel like he’s sizing us up.
I slip an arm around Isabel’s waist, pulling her closer. “Yeah, newish,” I say, letting a hint of a playful drawl creep into my tone. “We’re exploring the lifestyle… seeing what it’s all about.”
Isabel nods in agreement, her cheek brushing my shoulder as she nestles in. The effect is immediate—those two sets of eyes widen with keen interest.
The woman extends a hand, her voice taking on a sultry warmth. “I’m Vera, and this is Trey. So… are you two swingers, or just curious?”
There it is—the question we knew might come, but still feels a little jarring to hear out loud. Isabel shifts slightly, but her composure is impressive. She slides a look my way, batting her lashes in a show of wifely affection. “We’re more of the watching type,” she says, letting her lips curl in a slow smile, “but we’re keeping an open mind.”
A part of me admires how smoothly she slips into the role. We’ve prepared for scenarios like this—scenarios that require us to adopt a persona that lets us blend into the crowd without raising suspicion. Still, hearing Isabel imply that we’re watchers in the scene sends a flicker of need through my veins, remembering just how close we’ve gotten these past few nights.
Trey chuckles. “Watching can be fun.” He slides a glance at Vera, who nods with an amused smirk. “So, you came to see if Morris was here?”
My stomach clenches. Bingo. “We heard he might show,” I say, carefully nonchalant. “We’re… what’s the word? Big admirers. We’ve heard he throws the best parties.”
Vera’s face lights up with an indulgent smile. “Oh, he does. Morris is a close friend of ours.” Her eyes glimmer, pride evident. “But he’s not in town tonight—must be on business.”
Isabel arches a brow, pitching her voice just loud enough to be heard over the music. “You two are that close with him?”
Trey gives a small shrug, sipping his champagne. “We’ve known him a few years. Helped him organize a couple of private gatherings. He’s a busy man, but we catch him when we can.”
My pulse kicks up. If these two are real friends of Morris, maybe they can lead us to him eventually. I take a moment to play the role further, letting my hand slide from Isabel’s waist to rest on the small of her back, pressing her lightly against me. “Well, we’d love to meet him.”
Vera sets down her glass on a nearby table. “I’m sure we can arrange that. But in the meantime, why don’t you relax, enjoy yourselves?” She steps in closer, eyeing the swirl of couples behind us. “We can show you around if you like.”
“We were hoping for something a bit more… private,” Isabel says, leaning into my side. Her voice stays airy, but I catch the tension in her eyes. She’s trying to push them to talk more about Morris, but not too aggressively.
Trey and Vera exchange knowing looks. “Well,” Trey says, “we can take you to a quieter area. If you’re watchers, I’m sure you’ll find a good vantage point.”
“Sounds great,” I say, keeping my tone light.
They lead us past the mini-ballroom, around to a tucked-away alcove behind an ornate screen. The lighting here is softer, tinted rose and gold, with a low table in the center and a plush white couch that looks like it belongs in a high-end boudoir. The faint chatter of the party fades, and my heart gives a small jump. We’re definitely pushing deeper into the scene.
Vera gestures for us to sit. “Make yourselves comfortable.” A teasing smile curves her lips as she eyes Isabel. “Or, better yet, get cozy with each other.”