SUMMER SWAP // Chapter 30

With three minutes still left on the treadmill’s countdown, Cheyenne found him in the yacht’s gym. Byron felt immediate guilt, like Chey would make fun of him for the obvious: her husband hadn’t worked out in a year, and now, one day into wife swapping, here he was trying to tone up and improve his fitness. It was obvious.

But Chey didn’t bug him right away, didn’t even say anything to him. The machine was set at a high incline and a moderate pace and he was swamped with sweat already. Chey walked past him, between the vacant Soul Cycles, and ducked under the LCD TV mounted at the front of the gym, just above the panoramic view of the level four deck and the lake and sky beyond. Arms crossed, she leaned on the railing below the window and admired the view, looking up and beyond the level five overhang. Bright, cool light spilled in and painted her in happy colors.

Since there was only one other reason she was here and it obviously wasn’t a workout that brought her, it meant Cheyenne wanted to talk. His heart was pounding too hard anyway, and there was no point in pushing yourself too far on your first workout if it meant you were injured or sore and hated the idea of ever doing it again. He set the treadmill’s angle down and slowed his pace to a walk as he muted something on the TV.

Cheyenne waited for him with placid patience, eyes still roaming the view while shaded sunlight played lines on her pretty profile. There was innocence in her figure’s poise; the folded arms, the cocked hip, the casual sweep of her neck, and the angle of her features toward the sun. Cheyenne had sex with another man last night. Cody Weber had his hands all over her, had put his beautiful cock inside her—even going one time without a condom—and according to Sully, Cheyenne’s cries of ecstasy kept them awake for two hours. If Sully knew he and Cody had swapped places, that meant Scarlet did as well. Scarlet had already talked to Chey most likely, and he worried how she would take that. Given her current calm demeanor, he had hope that Scarlet didn’t chastise her or come down on her for such illicit behavior.

Byron joined her, the two of them very close to the angled glass, leaning with their sides to the spectacular view and looking at each other first. The low charm in his wife’s eyes warmed his heart. They’d done a wild thing, and they’d come through. Of course, that sleepy-calm on her face could have come from the incredible sex she had with Cody last night. He smiled.

When he did, Chey smiled too, averting her eyes a moment, but then looking back at him. They both lightly chuckled.

Cheyenne said, “Working out again, are you?”

“I knew you were going to say something.”

She smiled, this time showing her teeth. “Just an observation.”

“I have some bad news,” he said. “Though I have a feeling you already know about it.” She said nothing but studied him, one eyebrow lower than the other. “We were overheard last night.”

No shock, no shriek of terror, just a single nod. “We were.”

“Did you talk to her yet?”

“Scarlet? Yeah. That’s what you meant, right?”

“Sully came up to me, like just bubbling and gushing.”

“Scarlet wasn’t gushing. I think I’m under judgment, but I also think she’s giving the green light.”

“I’m surprised. And happy, too. I’m happy she’s okay with you having . . .”

“And you too.”

He sighed. “I hadn’t even thought of that. There was a chance she could have blamed me. Been mad at me or accused me of luring you into it.”

“I told her how we were lured into it.”

“What did she say?”

“She wasn’t really surprised.”

“And she’s definitely not mad at me?”

“We didn’t talk much about you and, you know, her.”

“Carla. But you told her all about having sex with Cody.”

She shot him a troubled look, bordering on wounded—like he’d accused her of something terrible. She said, “Did you tell Sully about sex with Carla, or did you tell him about me and Cody?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Somehow I picture you gushing how great it was, while my story might not be as spectacular as yours was. Sully says you were gasping and panting for two hours.”

“He’s exaggerating.”

Byron was quiet a moment, looking out at the water. “I’m supposed to be happy. I should be happy. That would be the honorable thing. That’s why we did: to have a wild experience, to do something different. To enjoy it. It hurts a little bit to know you enjoyed it that much.”

Chey looked his way. “Do you think you flubbed it with Carla because of me?”

“I don’t know about flubbing it,” he muttered. “But you were the only thing on my mind, Chey.”

“Are you mad because I didn’t think of you?”

“You didn’t think of me?”

Chey touched his arm, gripped his forearm with tender care. “Not like that, Byron. I didn’t forget you existed. I just mean, I was able to be in the moment, and I wasn’t thinking of you and Carla and being jealous. I woke up really fucking jealous, if it makes you feel any better.”

“It does. I noticed.”

She let her fingers trace to his wrist then wove her fingers between his. “And you liked it?”

“Of course. How would I feel if you were, like, ‘Hey, that was great, let’s do it again.’”

Chey’s lips thinned. She looked away and said, “Is that something you’re thinking about?”

“Jealousy? Yeah.”

Her eyes went back to his, the sun lighting up the lightest shades of blue. “No. Doing it again.”

“Oh,” he said, surprised. Her fingers scissored against his, like she didn’t want him to reel and pull away. He’d wondered when this was going to come up and he hadn’t expected it so abruptly.

“Like, you could get the chance you feel like you missed?”

With her fingers between hers still, he edged back to a treadmill and leaned against it, a sudden weight on his shoulders becoming too much to bear. Chey followed him, a compassionate look on her face, opening her stance so her sneakers were on the outside of his, planted together. “Both of us do it again, you mean.”

She nodded. “I’d consider it, if Cody and Carla were willing.”

“Didn’t sound like you flubbed it, though. You’d want to do it again because the sex was so good.”

“Was it really no good for you?”

Truth was he didn’t know what to make out of his time with Carla. She’d been intimidating and aggressive, and he’d been filled with thoughts of his wife with Carla’s husband. And yet the whole escapade had begun with Carla’s temptation. The putting his dick in a toilet tube, the flashing of her boobies, then the naked sunbathing. He’d come to Chey wanting to float the idea of swinging. Maybe in a way, despite his desire for it to happen, deep in his brain, he’d known Chey would never go for it. Then Chey went for it, and somehow he’d never expected his time with Carla ever truly becoming a reality. It was easy to see in retrospect how the situation overwhelmed him. “It was good, but I guess I’d say it wasn’t what I expected. Or anticipated.”

Chey thought about it a while. She said, “So what do you think, then?”

“You want Cody again, huh?”

Chey smirked. “It’s not Cody. It’s me. Or, I guess, what Cody brings out of me.”

It took great restraint not to roll his eyes in front of her. “Your inner bad girl?”

“Worse than that,” she said, frowning. “I think my inner bad girl would be intimidated by the girl Cody made me.”

The thought twisted his stomach. “Cody made you?”

“No. I made myself. But with Cody. I couldn’t be that girl with you.”

“I’m not sexy enough?”

“Because I’d be embarrassed or something. I wouldn’t want to be like that girl with you. That’s not what you and I have.” She leaned in and lay both her palms on his chest.

“You going to tell me what kind of girl you were with Cody?”

A real struggle waged behind Chey’s beautiful eyes. Mouth firm, brow even, she said, “I will if you want me to.”

The thought of what horror story might pass his wife’s lips raced through him like a crazed ghost released from purgatory. What awful things might she say? “No. I don’t think I’m ready.”

She nodded, relieved, and patted his chest. “I’ll tell you everything when you are ready.”

“So this is it?”

“Is what it?”

“We’re going to do it again?”

Chey looked worried. “If they’re willing, yeah, we should talk about it.”

“What’s there to talk about?”

“Rules, strategies, logistics. We were doing it before we’d got a good chance to think. I know more of what I want.”

The fact his wife had things she wanted, and she knew what they were, suddenly stiffened him. The urge to find out everything she did tugged at him, but he was still too chicken to hear it.

“Okay,” he said and nodded. “I’m not an afterthought. I’m not a non-participant. Just because all I talk about is you, doesn’t mean that this is your experience only.”

“I know. I know it’s your experience, too. I told you I’m jealous, what more do you need from me? I mean it, tell me. I want what we did to be good for us.”

“Talk to me. Talk to me about me. Maybe your time with Cody is prominent in your mind, but talk to me about me. Talk to me about my experience.”

“Even if it makes me uncomfortable?”

“No, I don’t want that. I don’t want you uncomfortable. But you maybe should face down the discomfort. I sure am facing mine down—I’m going toe-to-toe with it. Just standing behind you when you were looking out the window, all I could think about was Cody’s hands on your body.”

“In a bad way? Can you deal with this or not?”

“In a bad way, sure. But also in”—he sighed and raked fingers through his hair—“I don’t know, I guess in an exciting way, too. It definitely gets my heart racing.”

“My heart doesn’t race thinking of you and what’s-her-name, all I get is a funny feeling in my stomach. And I grit my teeth until my temples hurt.”

“It makes you mad?”

“Yeah. It’s not the end of the world. Like you said, I have to face it down.”

“I hate thinking of you with Cody, but this is crazy—I also like to think about it. It hurts my heart, but it does something else to me that’s so fucking wild.”

Cheyenne took that in and considered it. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he admitted. “So. Strategies and logistics?”

“First we have to find out what they want to do. What if they’re done with us?”

“I doubt Cody’s done with you.”

Cheyenne’s mouth tucked to one side like she didn’t like always being attacked. “I’m sure Carlas would turn down one of your foot rubs.”

He couldn’t help laughing. “You’re jealous of a stupid foot rub?”

“It’s not funny, Byron. That’s, like, personal.”

“Chey,” he said, still chuckling, “you might have this skewed.”

Chey made a small fist and lightly punched his arm, her features twisted in mild anger. She thumped him again and again, so soft he barely felt it. She sniffled and wiggled her nose. “Logistics,” she said, her voice a little thick.

“Strategy first, Chey.”

She shook her head no, not smiling. “Can we go out to the other room? I need to sit down. You need to sit down.”

His fingers tingled, and his scalp tightened. No one ever said you need to sit down if there wasn’t some devastating news. The only thing he could think of is that Cody had ejaculated inside her and now Chey had to admit that she had been skipping pills or something and didn’t feel so guaranteed in her paused fertility. The sudden idea of his wife sitting him down to tell him another man impregnated her made his head muzzy and bleached. He leaned on the treadmill to steady himself.

“Please, Byron.” He looked up to see her a few paces away, heading between the treadmills and cycles to go up the ramp to the inner room where there was a lounge.

He smeared a brave expression on his face and followed her out to the lounge, the whole while his ears ringing. Chey picked the couch for two, and cuddled herself in the corner, pulling a pillow into her lap and hugging it. He joined her, the two of them side by side and quarter-turned. to face each other.

Chey sniffled again and wiped her eyes.

“What is it? Is it your pill?”

She looked confused a moment and shook her head no. “No, that’s fine, Byron.”

“So what is it?”

It took her forever to answer, her face in that time a cavalcade of expressions showing doubt and fear and like she wanted any reason not to tell him what she was about to. He put a hand out and took hers.

She said, “Before we decide whether we do this again, I have to be honest.”

“Honest about what?”

Her nails dug into the flesh of his palm. “I got . . . carried away.”

“Okay. More than skipping a condom?”

“Yeah. More than that.”

Whatever it was, it troubled her. His stomach went icy.

Chey licked her lips, her quivering eyes on his. “Cody and I weren’t alone. Philippe joined us.”