Sarah
I tug at the thin red straps, adjusting them over my shoulders. The mirror reflects a woman I barely recognize - eyes too bright, skin bronzed. The Aruba sun seems to be in my favor. I smooth my hands over the bikini, wondering if it is too revealing.
A prickle runs down my spine. I don't need to turn to know Matthew's eyes are on me, watching me. His gaze burns, a physical weight against my skin.
"Planning a show, Sarah?" His voice cuts through the silence, cold and sharp.
I force myself to meet his eyes in the mirror. He's sprawled across the bed, deceptively relaxed, but I see the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers grip the sheets.
"We are going to the beach," I say, aiming for nonchalance. "This is what people wear to the beach."
A humorless chuckle. "People that are attractive, perhaps. But you?"
I spin to face him, anger flaring. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Trying a little hard, aren't we? That swimsuit leaves little to the imagination. Though I suppose when there's not much to show off, one has to resort to… desperate measures."
The words slice through me, but I refuse to let him see how deeply they hurt. I turn, meeting his cold stare with a brittle smile.
"Oh, Matthew," I say, my voice dripping with false sweetness, "I'm so sorry I can't compare to Amanda's perfection."
The mention of Amanda's name ignites something primal in Matthew's eyes. His entire demeanor shifts, the cold disdain morphing into white-hot rage. He moves with a speed that catches me off guard, closing the distance between us in two long strides.
"You have no right," he snarls, his face contorted with fury.
Before I can react, his hands are on my shoulders, and I'm slammed against the wall. The impact knocks the breath from my lungs, but it's not painful - just jarring. My heart pounds wildly as I find myself pinned, Matthew's face mere inches from mine.
I can feel the heat radiating off his body, smell the faint scent of his cologne. It's intoxicating, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe.
"Listen to me very carefully," Matthew says, his voice low and dangerous. Each word is carefully enunciated, dripping with menace. "You will not speak her name again. Do you understand me?"
I should be terrified. But something in me refuses to back down.
My voice comes out steadier than I feel when I ask, "Or what, Matthew?"
Matthew's grip on my shoulders tightens, his fingers digging into my skin. I can see the muscle in his jaw twitching, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He's so close I can count his eyelashes.
I hold his gaze, refusing to look away. My heart thunders in my chest, but I won't let him see how he affects me. I won't give him that satisfaction.
"You don't want to find out," he growls, his breath hot against my face.
I swallow hard, fighting to keep my voice from trembling. "I think I do."
The silence that follows is deafening. It stretches between us, thick and heavy with unspoken words and suppressed emotions. I can almost hear the gears turning in Matthew's head as he struggles with himself.
His eyes flicker to my lips for a split second, and I stop breathing. Is he going to kiss me? Is he going to push me against the wall and fuck me?
The messed up part of me wishes he did.
"Why are you all dressed up anyway?" Matthew's voice is low, accusatory. His eyes flick down to my red bikini, then back to my face. "Trying to trap Mark like you trapped me?"
I force myself not to flinch. Instead, I roll my eyes, mustering all the nonchalance I can. "Don't be ridiculous, Matthew."
"Am I?" He leans in closer, if that's even possible. "You have a talent for manipulation, Sarah. Those big green eyes, that innocent act."
"He is married to Vanessa, and I am married to you, Matthew," I state the obvious.
His jaw clenches, and for a moment, I think he might kiss me. Or maybe he wants to strangle me. With Matthew, it's hard to tell the difference sometimes.
But the tension in his shoulders eases slightly, and he takes a step back. I can breathe again, but the air between us remains charged.
"We should go," he says, his voice clipped. "Mark and Vanessa are waiting."
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. As we make our way down to the beach, I can feel Matthew's presence behind me, like a storm cloud following in my wake.
We round a bend, and there they are. Mark and Vanessa sit on a blanket, surrounded by softly glowing lanterns. The scene is picturesque, romantic even.
"Hey, you two!" Mark calls out, waving us over.
Vanessa holds up a bottle of wine. "We've got plenty to share."
"Great," Matthew says as he flops down on the blanket.
"Is everything okay? Did you two fight?" Vanessa asks as she hands me a glass of wine.
I take the glass of wine. "Everything's fine," I say quickly, plastering a smile on my face. "Just a little… disagreement."
Matthew grunts in response, clearly not interested in engaging, and leans back on the blanket, stretching his long legs out. His eyes are distant, his posture stiff.
"Well, we should just relax now! The ocean is beautiful at night, and the wine helps too." She takes a sip from her own glass, leaning against Mark as she watches the waves crash softly under the moonlight.
Mark smiles, his eyes twinkling. "Exactly. No reason to stress. It's a perfect evening, right?"
I nod, taking a tentative sip of wine, trying to steady my nerves. "Yeah, it's nice."
"You look great, Sarah. That bikini is super sexy," Vanessa says in an almost flirtatious tone.
"Um…thanks," I murmur.
Matthew doesn't say anything, his gaze fixed on the horizon. I try not to let his silence get to me.
I glance at Mark and Vanessa, wondering if they can sense the uneasiness between Matthew and Me. But seem to be in their own world, oblivious to the drama between us. I almost envy them.
I take another sip of wine, feeling its warmth spread through me, but it doesn't seem to reach the cold pit in my stomach. Earlier during the safari, it seemed like Matthew was warming up to me, but now it looks like we are back to square one.
Vanessa stretches her legs out and sighs contentedly. "You know, Mark and I have been talking. It's been a while since we've done something… different."
Mark grins, wrapping his arm around her waist. "Yeah, you know, like… sharing the experience. It's all about trust and enjoying the moment, right?"
I look at them quizzically. "What kind of experience?"
Vanessa's gaze flickers over to me. "Mark and I love each other, but sometimes we like mixing things up. You know what I am saying?"
Mark laughs out loud, startling me. "Sweetheart, I don't think Sarah understands what you are talking about. Your wife is quite the innocent little thing, isn't she, Matthew?"
Matthew's eyes snap toward him. "Trust me, she is not," he says curtly.
Vanessa's smile is sly, her eyes gleaming mischievously. "I am talking about spicing up our marriage," she says.
"You two are swingers," Matthew says. He looks amused.
Vanessa shrugs, unbothered by Matthew's bluntness. "If you must put a label on it," she says with a playful smile. "We believe in keeping things interesting."
Mark chuckles, clearly enjoying the tension he's created.
I shift uncomfortably, suddenly feeling like the walls are closing in. This conversation is getting too personal, and I have no idea how to handle it. "Well," I say, forcing a smile, "Why are you telling us this?"
Mark leans forward, his grin widening. "Well, Sarah, we were thinking… maybe you and Matthew might be interested in joining us tonight. You know, a little couples' fun."
What the fuck?
Vanessa nods, her eyes locked on mine. "We think you both are so attractive. There's just something electric between you two. We thought it could be an incredible experience to share."
I feel my cheeks flush, my heart pounding in my chest. I can't believe what I'm hearing.
Swinging? With Mark and Vanessa?
The idea is so shocking, so taboo, I don't even know how to respond.
I glance at Matthew, trying to see his reaction, but his expression is unreadable. He takes a sip of his wine, his eyes dark and intense as they meet mine.
Is he not going to say something? Maybe tell them no?
"I… I don't know," I stammer. "That's not something I…" I don't finish my sentence. I don't know what to say.
Vanessa slides closer to me, her hand resting lightly on my thigh. "It's okay, Sarah. We'll take it slow. Just think about how good it could feel, all of us together, skin on skin…"
I feel a flush of heat spread through my body.
Mark moves closer to Matthew, his voice low and conspiratorial. "I think this could be a lot of fun. Watching Vanessa and Sarah together? It will be like every man's fantasy."
Matthew's jaw clenches. He looks at me with narrowed eyes. "Sarah?" His voice is rough.
I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry.
This is insane. We shouldn't even be considering this.
"I… I don't know," I breathe.
Vanessa smiles, her hand sliding higher on my thigh. "Just think about it, Sarah."
Mark moves behind me, his hands resting on my shoulders. I can feel the heat of his body. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his lips brushing against my ear. "Let us worship you tonight."
Beautiful? I know he is lying, but it still makes me blush.
Matthew is watching us, his gaze intense, as Mark's hand lowers a bit, resting right above my breasts.
My fist tightens on the blanket. Is Matthew not going to stop him? Does he not care that someone is touching his wife?
Of course, he does not care. Who am I kidding? Matthew hates me.
"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try something new," I say through gritted teeth. My heart hammers in my chest.
What am I doing? This isn't me. I don't engage in wild sexual escapades with virtual strangers. But I am angry at Matthew and the words just slipped out.
Matthew's eyes flash dangerously, his grip on his wine glass tightening. For a moment, I think he might shatter it. "Is that right?" he says, his voice low and controlled, but I can hear the undercurrent of rage. "You want to do this?"
I lift my chin defiantly, meeting his gaze head-on. "Why not? It could be fun."
Vanessa giggles. "That's the spirit, Sarah! We're going to have such a good time."
Mark grins, his hands starting to massage my shoulders. "I can't wait to get my hands on you," he murmurs, his breath hot against my skin.
I shiver, but not from desire. It's the prickling sense of unease, the feeling that I'm stepping into dangerous territory. But I can't back down now. Not with Matthew watching me like a hawk, waiting for me to crack.
"Well then," Matthew says, setting his glass down with a sharp clink. "I guess we're doing this." He stands abruptly, towering over us. "Where to?"
Vanessa stands as well, her smile wicked. "Our room."