He walked away. She watched him go in her rearview mirror. Emotions warred within her—disappointment, guilt, and something else. Something she’d fought so hard to keep concealed from him—anticipation. This was what she’d been waiting for.

She stayed until he disappeared into the crowd gathered around the airport shuttle, then drove away. If he noticed, she didn’t know. It seemed he was already a million miles away. He’d been so preoccupied lately, working on his big project that was taking him on an overnight to Chicago.

This did little to assuage her guilt. The secrets she’d kept from him about the plans she’d made—what would he say if he knew all the illicit details? If he knew the pleasures that awaited her even now in the bed they had shared for years? Her heart beat furiously at the thought.

‘He’ll never know,’ she vowed. ‘One time. No more.’

And as she whispered it, her lips quirked of their own volition. She’d been waiting months for this night. Her day had been spent at the salon, and soaking in a warm, sudsy bath. She felt like a new woman already.

The house was dark and quiet when she arrived. With every step up the stairs, her courage faltered.

‘You can do it,’ she told herself. ‘You know you want this.’

She did. She’d thought of little else. Fantasized about every aspect.

Outside her bedroom door, she halted. She listened, but heard no sounds. She turned the knob and pushed the door open slowly.

There he was.

Beautiful.

Big.

Back-support equipped, pillow-topped perfection decked in high thread count duds. It was enough to make any girl swoon.

A smile stole across her face as she launched herself on the object of her desire and landed like a sunbathing starfish.

“Mine,” she laughed. “All mine!”