Missing Him

Erin doesn’t want to enjoy the night of pleasure her husband, Shane, has planned. With their partner, Carter, out of town on a dangerous assignment, she just isn’t in the mood to celebrate the trio’s anniversary, especially with a stranger taking their third’s place for the night.

Except…there’s something familiar about the man Shane brings to their bed. Is it Carter? Unable to see, Erin relies on her other senses, but are they telling her the truth, or is she just missing him?


All light was cut off and the soft snick of the lock echoed through the room. Erin couldn’t see a thing. In spite of her initial reluctance, anticipation surged, warming her muscles and clutching her clit. Shane was with her, his excitement contagious, and she’d always loved being touched in the dark, the lack of sight heightening her other senses Already, her nerves were stretching and becoming sensitized to the air, and soon they’d be imprinted with the texture of a man’s skin, his hair, his muscles. His body’s heat and his unique scent…

A familiar fragrance reached her, drifting over her nose with a luscious tug of memory. Though too faint to be certain she’d smelled it before, the warmth and spiciness of it relaxed her, leading Erin deeper into her own surrender.

Shane’s palm weighted her chest. She would know his touch anywhere, especially with his long fingers sliding up to wrap around her throat, resting against her pulse. He did that even when he could see her, always telling her how much he loved to feel the beat grow erratic against his fingertips. But the stranger’s big, hot hands wrapping her ankles stole her focus.

Erin’s skin prickled, but she tried to dismiss the sensation coursing up her calves. While one part of her hoped she’d feel pleasure throughout the night’s interlude, another part of her tried to hold firm against a sensory betrayal of her need for Carter.

The heat from their third’s palms burned her, striking at her conscience, tempting her as only two other men could. She fell into the touch, squirming, seeking more, even as she tried to deny the knowledge springing to life in the deepest recesses of her mind.

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