SUMMER SWAP // Chapter 17

Sullivan drained the main vein, shook it off, flushed, washed his hands, and checked his reflection in the mirror. Light switched off, he was headed back into the dim hallway when he saw across the way Byron’s cabin door open. He swung back the door but didn’t close it completely. With the light off in the bathroom, he peeped through the crack, waiting to see who was coming.

For over an hour and a half, Byron and Cheyenne had been having all kinds of sex. Practically nonstop. Cheyenne was vocal. V-O-C-A-L. It’d kept him and Scarlet awake. He’d thumped on the wall once, and it’d encouraged Cheyenne and Byron to keep it down for a while, but before too long Cheyenne was really shouting again. So Byron’s punishment was for him to hide in the dark bathroom like a trapdoor spider and when Byron opened the door, he would jump out and scare the living shit out of his friend. But he had to make sure . . . If it was Cheyenne coming, and not Byron, he’d feel terrible scaring her like that (even though she was the most egregious noisemaker). So he hid and waited.

Byron’s door opened, a figure emerged, closed the door behind it very quietly. A figure in a robe. A male figure. Definitely not Cheyenne. He smiled in anticipation. Practically tingling with excitement, unable to contain himself in the face of this glorious moment, a gleeful thought racing through his mind: he could actually get Byron to pee his pants. Coming out of the bedroom, needing to pee, someone jumps out of the shadows . . . It would serve Byron right.

The figure crossed toward the bathroom door, headed right his way, and as it got closer, he realized that it wasn’t Byron. And the figure wasn’t headed to the bathroom. Moonlight reflected from the hallway wall onto the face of . . . Cody?

His mouth closed and his eyes widened. Cody returned to his bedroom, opened the door, closed himself in there.

Sullivan stood for a long moment, his scalp tingling. That was Cody in Byron and Cheyenne’s cabin. Was that Cheyenne making that noise? Had they swapped bedrooms, Cody and Carla in next to him and Scarlet, and nobody told him . . .? But then why would Cody return to the other bedroom? His own bedroom . . .

He shook his head, smiled a moment, then the smile faded. Still contemplating.

As he pushed open the bathroom door, Carla’s bedroom door opened again. He swung his door closed and further spied.

Now a figure was backing out of Carla’s bedroom. Standing there with a robe in its arms (the robe Cody’d worn?). Looking around, a little bewildered. It was Byron. Byron had been in that bedroom with Carla, he supposed. And Cody had been in the bedroom with Cheyenne . . .?

He watched.

Byron tiptoed across the hall, down two doors, stood for a moment with his hand on the bedroom door lever, took a deep breath, opened it and entered. The door closed behind him.

Well, holy fucking shit.

He palmed his forehead, contemplating. Chuckled, then wondered if it was funny at all.

What the fuck?

He waited another minute and when he figured the coast was clear, slipped out of the bathroom, tiptoed across and returned to his bedroom on the other side of the hall. Opened the door, closed it behind him. Stood in the dark.

Scarlett’s shape humped out the bedding. He tiptoed, went to the wall sconce light, and pulled the dangling cord that turned it on. It was shaded, so not too bright, but still Scarlet complained. “What the hell are you doing? Turn the light off . . .”

He stayed stone quiet, crossing to the bed now, and sitting on it. He sat there waiting for her to turn, his weight on one hand. She looked over her shoulder, agitated. “Am I not going to get any fucking sleep tonight?”

“I don’t think you are,” he said.

She rolled a little further until their eyes met. “What do you mean?”

He palmed his forehead again, and then the chuckles returned.

“What’s so funny?”

Now he laughed harder, falling until his head rested on his wife’s hip.

Scarlet rolled, sat up. “What’s going on?” She was already engaged in some of the glee, smiling, excited to hear what the news might be.

“Oh my God, Scarlet,” he said.

“Would you stop it—just tell me what you’re laughing at. Why am I not going to sleep? What is it?”

“I was just in the bathroom,” he said, pointing in the general area of the bathroom with his thumb, “and Byron’s door opens. Byron’s coming out, so I hide in the dark like I’m going to jump out at him . . .”

“Yeah,” she said, thinking the story was ending like how he intended: him scaring the absolute shit out of Byron as punishment for keeping them up with sex noises for almost two hours, and Byron had pissed his pants.

He said, “Only it wasn’t Byron.” He looked into her eyes.

Her mouth fell open. “Did you scare Cheyenne by accident?”

“You’re not following me, Scarlet,” he said.

“What am I not following?”

He was pointing at her, tapping her knee now. “I think you’re right. No—I know you’re right.”

She liked that, smiling. “About what?”

“Cody and Carla . . . being . . .” He whispered: “Swingers.”

She gasped, “No way . . .”

He nodded rapidly. “It was Cody coming out of there . . . Cody coming out of Cheyenne’s bedroom. That was Cody and Cheyenne having sex for two fucking hours.”

Scarlet’s mouth circled into the shape of a howl and then she covered her face with both hands, eyes widening.

“Can you fucking believe that? And get this—Cody goes back to his bedroom, and a minute later Byron comes out of there. So Byron was in there with Carla.”

Scarlet threw herself back on the pillows with her hands still on her face.

“You were fucking right,” he said, grabbing her wrists, “and I called you an idiot.”

“You’re the one that’s the idiot, you couldn’t see it,” she said, her hands pulled away now, lips peeled back in laughter.

“They just swung with Cheyenne and Byron. Byron—can you believe it?”

“It’s Cheyenne I can’t believe.” Her face scrunched up, picturing it. “Cheyenne with Cody . . .?”

“Cody’s hot,” he said.

“Yeah, he’s super hot, but . . .”

She fell for his trap. He pointed at her. “Really? Super hot? And you can’t believe Cheyenne would sleep with him . . . Like you’re jealous? Now I’m thinking it’s you I gotta keep my eye on.”

Scarlet laughed, shook her head, color coming to her cheeks. “No way,” she said and laughed. “No way.”

His heart thudded. The laughter, the faraway look in her eyes . . . though she was saying “No way,” she was right now considering it, putting herself in Cheyenne’s position with hunky Cody. Only in her mind, but still . . .

The taunt that he had to keep an eye on her was a joke. But there was something in the way Scarlet thought it was so cute and funny to say “No way” over and over again (after just having said Cody was super hot) that bothered him.

Scarlet saw the worry in his face and she leaned close and cupped his cheeks. “You’re the only man for me,” she said, and kissed his lips.

He held her neck and kissed her eagerly in return. An erection had grown quite hard in his underwear and he couldn’t wait to show it to her. Maybe they would keep Byron and Cheyenne up for the next little while.

* * *

Scarlet knew it. Cody and Cheyenne. Holy shit.

She’d watched Chey today from her lounger, and from the couch, and peering over the railing, and spying from the kitchen. One woman hanging out with two men. Skinny dipping. Her husband napping.

And Sullivan said she was crazy for thinking it.

“I told you,” she scolded him as he got under the sheets with her and began shimmying down her underwear.

“I can’t believe it,” he said and laughed, the sound muffled as he began kissing around her navel.

Truth was: it was kind of hot watching Cheyenne flirt with Cody and Philippe. Sure, she’d shook her head at Cheyenne in secret admonishment, but she’d continued watching, always seeking out new angles, doing it in hiding in hopes of catching something really dirty.

And as much as she spied on Cheyenne, she was also getting unshielded looks at the naked bodies of the two hottest guys on the yacht. Cody with his strong and lean body, his tanned skin and blond hair. And what a good-looking dick the guy had. Philippe with his bulk and his big manly hands. God, his penis was unreal. A gnarly looking monster that would frighten a woman. No wonder Cheyenne came back to the card table with those red cheeks after toilet-tubing him.

Sullivan loomed above her with the bedsheet over his shoulders and got her attention. He pushed down his underwear and his erection popped up and bounced. She laughed and squeezed her thighs on him. Then they rolled around on the bed while Sullivan got his underpants off and they were both naked, side by side and face to face, her back against the wall under the window that showed the view of the black lake, the horizon, and the starry night beyond. Sully kissed her and their bodies mashed together. He felt good pressed against her and the sudden flux of wet horniness between her legs shocked her. The sheer taboo of what Chey and Byron had done tonight was wildly intoxicating. Definitely not for her and Sully—she’d never let him anywhere near Carla—but the erotic charge she got just from thinking of it was overwhelming. It was her writhing against Sully, tilting her hips to him and dipping her pelvis and seeking his hardness inside her.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he growled and pushed inside her. She grunted and moaned, pulled her hubby to get on top of her. She liked him on top and her knees against his sides. But she closed her eyes a little and thought of Chey. Thought how she must have felt tonight when Cody got on top of her. Those noises Cody conjured out of her were crazy. And he did it to her for two hours.

As Sully thrusted his hardness in and out, she raked her nails on his back and let her mind wander. Thought of what it would be like to have Cody on her, and wondered what his penis would be like hard. What. would it feel like inside her? It was really big. How big would it get when he was hard? And, oh fuck, Philippe. Cody on top of her and Philippe’s muscular hand stroking his monstrous cock while he waited his turn to get in on sweet little Scarlet once Cody had ejaculated deep inside her—

She jolted and gasped, and Sully huffed as she squeezed his ribs with her thighs.

He whispered, “Did you just come already?”

A wet heat raced from her core, razing across her arms and cheeks and neck.

“No,” she lied, and licked her lips.