Authors: Kenny Wright
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Leap © 2012 Kenny Wright
Edited by Lucy V. Morgan
Cover design by Kenny Wright
Image licensed from istockphoto.com
First digital edition electronically published by Kenny Wright, August 2012
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without explicit written permission of the copyright holder.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events, or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
As Sarah emerged from the shower and felt Jack’s eyes on her, she knew something was up. She pulled her towel tighter, aware of how little it covered—not that she minded those eyes. She liked the way he looked at her, tingling wherever they swept. But there was something in that half-smile of his. Ten years of marriage and she could sense these things.
“You’re still in bed,” Sarah said with a half-smile. Jack stretched his arms behind his head and his thick arms flexed. She liked the ripple where his pecs and delts met at his broad shoulders.
He cleared his throat. “It’s Leap Day. You know what they say...”
“That there’s one more day to process pay checks?” Sarah turned away from her husband and dropped her towel. She was already thinking of the day ahead and all the paperwork that came with the end of the month.
“On February 29, all rules are off,” he went on.
Sarah fastened a bra and turned, raking her fingers through her still-wet dark blonde hair. “That so?” Her tone was dry. “That’s a new one.”
“It makes sense though, right? Leap Day: the day that doesn’t exist. So nothing that happens on it exists, either.” Jack finally climbed from the bed. This time, it was Sarah’s turn to watch him cross the room. His swollen cock swung between his thighs. They’d both made a New Year resolution to visit the gym more, and so far, they’d stayed true to it.
“What’s your point, dear?”
He paused at the door to the bathroom, where steam still clouded the mirrors, and shrugged. “Just that today, we can do things that we normally wouldn’t.”
Sarah’s face flushed. He was talking about his fantasy—
fantasy. He disappeared into the bathroom with the bounce of his brows.
Sarah had been shocked when he’d first confessed the fantasy. She wanted to hate it. To be disgusted by it. It went against every fiber of her upbringing. She loved Jack more than she’d ever thought possible. She loved the comfortable life they led. She loved the children they had. Yet like Jack, she found herself loving the idea, too.
Her little office flirtation with David had been harmless. Jack knew about it, after all. It never led anywhere—it was never meant to. But it was inevitable that her attractive coworker made it into their bedroom fantasy.
Sarah had felt remorseful afterwards, despite Jack’s encouragement. He’d told her to imagine she was with David—to close her eyes and feel the younger man’s powerful body driving into her. She saw David’s beautiful face, his shaggy brown hair clinging damply to the hard-set cut of his jaw. He had beautiful eyes, almond-shaped and almost Asian, despite his otherwise All-American good looks. She’d imagined them filled with hunger, the way he sometimes looked at her when he thought she wasn’t looking. She’d cum hard that night.
When Sarah had learned David was relocating across the country, she was both sad and relieved—and felt guilty for feeling either. She told herself that it was a good thing for him. He was advancing his career with a new company he could grow at. But she’d just miss their friendship and their banter. Even after just two days of no David, things felt quiet—and that was fine. He was gone and that was
But he isn’t gone yet,
a little voice reminded. The same voice that kept echoing Jack’s silly statement:
All rules are off.
If David hadn’t quit—if she went into work today and he was there—and he asked her to happy hour today, would she have accepted after turning him down again and again? Would she have had the guts?
It didn’t matter. David was gone. Almost.
Jack’s cock hit full extension as he stepped beneath the shower spray. His imagination was going wild. Jack had brought it up first, although he’d harbored the secret for years before admitting it:
I want you to fuck another man
. Just thinking it sent a jolt up his soapy length. That was the kicker. He had no idea why it turned him on. Rationally, it was idiotic. Rationally, it was a really bad idea. But rational or not, it made him hard—every single time.
Jack pumped his cock, knowing that the suggestion was working its way through Sarah’s normally proper mind. He thought about the first time she’d mentioned David. She’d been so carefully casual. When Jack had teased her—called David her office crush—her face turned five shades of red.
Too bad David had decided to move. Jack was only a little more disappointed than Sarah, although they both knew it was for the best.
Not that anything would ever happen between the two of them. Despite the fantasy, Jack and Sarah were a normal couple leading safe, secure lives. They had a routine involving kids and dinners together and television at night—it was a routine they enjoyed.
Only this day was different. Their son was with the rest of the school band in Disney World and their daughter was skiing with a friend’s family for Winter Week. He didn’t believe in fate—a man made his own—but this was almost too good to be true. When he emerged from the billowing steam of the shower to an empty bedroom and saw their matching iPhones sitting on twin chargers, he knew what he was going to do. “Leap Day,” he reminded himself.
When he made it downstairs, Sarah was sitting on a bar stool at the kitchen counter, sipping coffee and reading the paper. He registered the black hose and heels and the way her hair fell in golden waves around her face and shoulders. She always looked good, but today, she looked extraordinary.
“I packed you a lunch,” Sarah said without looking up from the newspaper. Judging by the way she uncrossed, then recrossed her toned legs, she must have known she was looking.
“Thanks, but I think I’m going to eat out today, since all the rules are off.”
Sarah finally looked up. “That the way it works? Maybe I should book a few hours at the day spa.”
Jack kissed his wife on the side of her neck. She smelled spicy—a scent she normally saved for date nights. “If you do, make sure you book a waxing.”
Sarah laughed at Jack’s one-track mind. “So Leap Day isn’t just about the rules being off, but the hair, too?”
He bowed down to look her in the eyes. His brown irises didn’t waver. “It means that you should push your boundaries. Get a little crazy.” He kissed her on the nose and stood, crooked smile back in place. Their day was just beginning.
Sarah couldn’t shake Jack’s suggestion, and damn him for putting it there. Her husband knew exactly what he was doing. She spent the ride to work trying to force herself to think of all kinds of “off-limit” activities that didn’t involve the thing Jack wanted her thinking about. A day spa. New shoes. Skipping the gym. Eating ice cream for lunch.
But by the time she arrived at the office, she gave up. Only one thing kept returning: David. David and his long hair and square jaw. David and the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn’t looking. It was so, so fucking wrong.
Nothing had happened between them outside of a lingering hug, but if she closed her eyes, she could still feel it. They’d said goodbye just last week. The office was taking him out to happy hour, but she’d declined. She had to help the kids get ready for their trips. And besides, she wasn’t about to become a cliché at the end of a night filled with alcohol and emotion. So they’d shared a hug—probably their last.
But it doesn’t have to be,
the naughty voice reminded. She could call him right now. See if he was free. She got as far as pulling out her cell phone before tossing it back into her purse. “Damn you, Jack.”
A half hour passed with Sarah’s head spinning and spinning. She was glad that she’d done most of payroll yesterday because she was next to useless now. By 10, she gave up completely and called Tranquility to book an 11 o’clock manicure. She considered a massage—it had been too long since her last, but figured it was too much of a splurge.
Sarah processed the last of payroll, handed the stubs off to her assistant, and took off.
Jack had accepted the futility of concentrating at work before he even arrived. He called in and told them he wouldn’t make it, then headed to the neighborhood coffee shop.
Like cutting class,
he thought as he settled into a plush armchair, a latte in one hand, folded newspaper in the other. He felt giddy. His office responsibilities would be there tomorrow. Deadlines to make. Reports to write. It all faded under the sound of the indy rock playing over the speakers.
He read the paper from front to back, something he hadn’t done in years. As he waited for his second latte at the barista bar, he had to laugh.
This is your idea of getting a little crazy?
Jack glanced at the iPhone sitting on the table where he’d left his bag and newspaper. Not his iPhone. Sarah’s. His heart raced as he returned to his seat. The caffeine was part of it. That phone was the rest.
He pressed the home button and the lock screen lit up, showing a picture of Jack and their two kids. That was a pretty good portrait of their life together. He looked at his face in the photo: wide, toothy, and harmless. He was about to change all of that.
This was a bad idea. He knew it. But that didn’t stop his fingers from unlocking the phone and navigating to her contacts. There were privacy implications, the reasonable side if his brain pleaded as he navigated her address book. He found David’s contact info, including his personal phone number.
Of course she had his personal number.
It rankled him, but he didn’t dwell. Jack tapped up their text history and his hand shook. This was worse than looking into her diary, but he was here and he couldn’t
Besides, he needed to know the style of their exchanges if he was going to get this next part right. When he realized they were mostly work related—with the odd exception of some personal yet innocent details—he breathed a little easier.
With a draw from the hot coffee to steady his nerves, he thumbed a message into the phone. Sarah’s phone to David. He read it over. Then read it again. Then checked that the recipient was the right David and that this really was Sarah’s phone. And even then, he hesitated, his finger lingering above the send button.
A man made his own fate, he reminded himself.
Then he did.
Sarah was in the middle of having her French tips done when she heard an unfamiliar chime issue from her purse. Pulling the phone out with her free hand, she checked the message.
–hon, i have your phone and you have mine
She started to fumble a reply when it chimed again.
–oh, and i pretended to be you and texted david. he wants to know if you’d like to have dinner tonight
Sarah blinked at the screen, barely comprehending the words. This had to be a trick—part of his game. Right?
Still uncertain, she added:
The manicurist held out her hand to finish applying lacquer to her nails and she reluctantly set it face up on the counter.
–not joking. i told him i (jack) was out of town. he suggested dinner. i told him i (you) need to think about it
Sarah was almost too shocked to be angry. Almost. How could he do that? He took her phone? He pretended to be her? To bring David into their bedroom fantasies was one thing, but to bring him into real life? That was taking it too far.
Sarah glanced at the woman doing her nails. She was a pretty Asian about her age who’d made small talk until the text came in. She thought of why she was here and suddenly the manicure annoyed her. Jack’s doing. He probably made up everything about today. She asked the woman doing her nails, “Did you know that on Leap Day, supposedly you can do anything you want and it ‘doesn’t count?’”
The aesthetician shook her head. “Sounds like something a man would come up with.”
She had the hint of an accent and a twinkle in her eye. “Sounds fun though.”
That was the thing. Behind the anger, something else quivered. It made her breath come up short.
“So what would you do if you decided to observe Leap Day like that?” she asked as the woman finished her last nail.
Sarah watched the woman blush and avert her eyes. That brought heat to Sarah’s. Why did everyone’s thoughts immediately go to something sexual?
When the woman finally spoke, she just said, “I’d have fun with it.”
Sarah nodded. She looked at her phone. Jack had texted again:
–want to meet for lunch and talk?
With her free hand, she carefully typed out:
–coast in a couple hours. i’m getting a massage
Not everything “fun“ had to be about sex.
The late lunch crowd at Coast Seafood & Grill was light. Jack arrived first and requested a seat in the upstairs loft. The host was hesitant since they’d just shut that section off to prep for dinner, but he slipped her a couple twenties and she made an exception.
He marveled at the sight of his wife as she joined him, walking up the stairs with an extra sway in her hips. He’d been worried about how she’d take the whole phone switch thing, but she didn’t appear mad. If anything, coming straight from the spa, she glowed.
“You look great,” Jack said as Sarah held out her hand.
Okay, he revised, so maybe she hadn’t completely calmed down.
“How about a kiss, first?” Jack’s confidence grew with her annoyance. He stood and held his arms wide.
“My phone, Jack.”
She wasn’t going to back down. Jack let her stew a moment longer. He thought she was sexy all bristly with anger. “Fine. Then my kiss.” He fished it out of his pocket and handed it to her, but didn’t let go immediately. He reeled her in with it until her body brushed against him and he could lean in for a kiss. She turned her head away, yielding just her cheek. He took the exposed nape of her neck instead, his warm lips drawing a sigh and a shiver from her.
“I love you.”
She pulled back, fixing him with a look that tried to be cold but melted into a smile. “You didn’t really text David, did you?”
He settled back into the horseshoe-shaped booth and spread his arms along the back of it. “See for yourself.”
Sarah took her seat. Jack watched her squirm. He could sense the knots that had been massaged out beginning to reform as she checked the phone. It was all there, just as he’d said. The “how’s it going” text from “her,” a casual drop that she was bored because Jack was out of town, then the dinner invitation from David. The last text was an outgoing one:
–let me think about it. i’ll get back to you later
Sarah’s mouth drew tight, her brow furrowed, but there was also a softness. A silent sigh escaped her lips. She was as turned on as he.
He cozied up and kissed her neck again. “Aren’t you going to answer him? He’s been waiting so patiently.”
Sarah shot him a look. “Damn you, Jack. You know what you did, right? The longer I take to get back to him, the more he’ll read into my reply. And you sent that—” She checked the time stamp on the text. “—two hours ago!”
“You’re the one who wanted a massage.”
He hadn’t intended the gap in time to be so wide, but she was right. David was probably at home, checking his phone with OCD regularity.
“So what am I supposed to say to him?”
The air between them was heavy and pressurized, a conversation being held at the bottom of a pool. “What do you want to say?” His words came out thick. His tongue felt swollen.
Sarah picked up the phone. Her fingers shook as she typed out her reply.
–dinner would be great
She showed it to Jack without pressing send.
Is this really a good idea?
she said with that look. His hand slid up the inside of her thighs, skimming the silk surface of her hose. She spread her legs as his fingers arrived at the lace at the top of her stockings. Jack nodded. She jabbed the send button and their mouths crashed together in a hungry, desperate kiss. This was new and scary territory for them both.
Jack’s knuckles brushed along the gusset of Sarah’s thong and found the satin moist. She drew back from the kiss.
Just in time, too. Their server glided up the stairs, looked across the empty booths, and found Sarah and Jack cuddled together. Jack didn’t take his hand out from between her thighs.
The server was cute—a petite redhead who wore her hair in a high ponytail and a crooked smile across her freckled face.
“Hi, my name’s Autumn. Are you two ready to order, or should I give you more time?”
Jack squeezed the arm he had draped over Sarah’s shoulder and assured himself that they just looked like they were an affectionate couple. “Nice to meet you, Autumn. I think we’ll need a couple more minutes.”
Autumn nodded and left them with a coy smile. Jack didn’t even wait for the jaunty ponytail to disappear down the stairs before his lips returned to Sarah’s neck and his knuckles pushed against the rise of her mound.
“Jack, not here.” She pushed on his chest, but the pressure was limp. She looked to the menu and cleared her throat. “So, what’s good here?”
“I know what I’d like to snack on...” His knuckle passed across her clit and found it swollen. Sarah groaned and opened her legs wider. Jack grinned to himself. Just where he wanted her: at the brink of acting reckless.
“I hear they do a great vodka and oyster pairing,” he said, pulling his hand away from her sex and pointing at something on the menu. He unwrapped his other arm and slid to a more reasonable distance. The look on her face was priceless.
“Vodka and oysters. How am I supposed to work after a lunch like that?”
“You’re going back to work?”
“And what am I supposed to do for the rest of the afternoon?”
Jack glanced at her phone, sitting on the table. “Getting ready for your dinner date.” A new text from David had appeared on the screen.
–how about bistro claude’s?
Jack nodded to himself at the man’s choice. The upscale bistro was a popular venue for couples, but was casual enough that the evening could be interpreted as harmless. There was no way to misread his intentions. “French. Very nice.”
“It’s nothing.” He knew Sarah saw the same craftiness in David’s choice; she just decided to buy into the harmlessness anyway.
Jack was about to call her on it when Autumn returned to save her. “You two look more prepared for me. Know what you want?”
Jack glanced at Sarah and said, “I do. The Manhattan Brunch Platter.”
A smile split Autumn’s face. “You two are fun.” She scribbled the order into her notebook. “Anything else?” They shook their heads.
“You think she’s cute?” Sarah asked when the redhead was gone.
“Yeah, she is.” No point in lying to Sarah, she’d know just as surely as he knew where this was headed. He let it play out.
“You want her?”
Jack cracked a smile. “Maybe in another life. Or before you.”
“Sweet talker. But seriously, this is Leap Day. Doesn’t that mean you can... you know...” Sarah always got embarrassed by dirty words.
Sarah’s eyes canted down and away, only to return to his. “Yeah.”
Jack scratched his cheek. He’d already begun to grow stubble, despite his morning shave. “And if I fucked her, would you be cool with it?”
He watched the jealousy tighten in her brow and pinch her eyes. Her reply was a cool no.
“And how about tomorrow? Would you forget all about it tomorrow?”
“Of course not.”
“Then it doesn’t work.”
“But I thought that was the point of your little tradition. To do whatever you wanted.”
Jack laughed. As much as it sounded like his own “little tradition,” it wasn’t. “Sounds like every man’s fantasy, but this isn’t a fantasy.” He laid his hands over the top of Sarah’s and caressed her soft skin with his thumb. “The way I see it, Leap Day gives us an excuse to be a little crazy.” He glanced at her phone and both of their hearts skipped a beat.
“How is me...” She still couldn’t bring herself to use the F word, “and David any different than you and what’s-her-name. Autumn.”
“The difference is that I’m cool with you and David.” And his cock was hard.
“Really.” The answer was more complicated than that. The thought alone turned him on. The fantasy was right up there with watching Sarah with another woman. But there were other emotions mingling with all the excitement. Uncertainty was there. Guilt. A reckless thrill he’d only ever felt when doing something he knew was stupid.