While Violet let out a drunken giggle, Max had to control the urge to rip his wife from the man’s arms, right before he ripped the man’s arms from his body.
What the hell is wrong with me? We’ve been enjoying these two for three days, and now I get jealous?
Was it jealousy? Was it possessiveness? Had he had enough?
It was his anniversary after all, and maybe Max was just ready to have his wife back. Only his wife.
He could see Dan had slipped a hand beneath Violet’s dress, and by the way her head was leaning back against Dan, her mouth parted, her body twisting, he was pleasuring her. Again, Max had the uncontrollable urge to spring up and get the man’s hands away from what was his.
Before another thought entered his mind, Tara was in front of him, blocking his view of Violet in Dan’s lap. “You are wound entirely too tight, Max,” she cooed.
Only this time the sound of her voice suddenly began to grate on him. He tried to relax and offer a polite smile, but knew he was failing. When she hiked up her dress and straddled his lap, her bare pussy flashed as the material bunched at her waist. He sat passively back while her hands landed on his shoulders and began massaging down his chest.
As she reached his shorts, all while staring into his eyes, smiling with what she obviously thought was seduction, she worked them loose and grabbed his dick. A flash of disappointment passed in her eyes as she found him soft. On a mission to change that, she fisted him and stroked, trying to entice an erection.
Only it wasn’t happening. Max had no desire at the moment, no urge to engage in anything sexual with this woman. He looked beyond Tara’s shoulder and saw Dan releasing his own erection. He was trying to lift Violet’s leg and position it between them, clearly intent on fucking her. And by Violet’s reaction, it was clear she was trying to stave off his advances.
Dan barely held himself in control; reigning in his fury before he went ballistic. He grabbed Tara’s wrists and halted her movements before gently lifting her off his lap. Ignoring her confused stare, he pushed past her and went to his wife. He leaned over her and took her offered hands while whispering, “I think I’ll take it from here.” Flashing a knowing look at Dan, as if to say, I don’t fucking think so, he lifted his wife from the man’s lap.
Max pulled Violet into his side, noticing the relieved look she gave only him.
“Sorry, easy to get carried away.” Dan tried to smooth over his actions. Tara had joined her husband’s side, placing her hand on his shoulder. Dan’s hand came up to cover it and looked up at her with the same desire he’d just shown another man’s wife.
Max stopped himself from shaking his head, unable to believe where the night had suddenly gone. He thought he’d been looking forward to sexual pleasure, but now all he could think about was getting himself and his wife away from here and back into their own cabana. Just as he was about to say something lame and makes excuses to leave, Violet spoke out.
“This is going to sound really cliché, but I’ve just developed the worst headache. I’m not used to so much champagne, I guess.” She looked to Max then back to Tara and Dan, toggling between the couple. “I can’t thank you enough for tonight; for all these days, really. It’s been so wonderful. But…”
“But you’d probably prefer to just go rest with your husband,” Tara politely offered. “It is your anniversary, after all.”
Tara walked to Violet and gave her a hug, then repeated the gesture with Max. He returned the act with as much friendliness as he could. When she pulled back, he held one of her hands. “Thank you, Tara. It, it—” As much as he wanted to leave, he didn’t want to end this on a sour note with the couple. They knew nothing of his inner turmoil, and they really didn’t deserve his anger.
Tara simply nodded as she gave his hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it. “Go enjoy your night.”
Dan stood behind his wife, wrapping an arm around her waist, smiling. “It’s been a pleasure. You know where we’ll be this time next year if you think you want to return.”
“Something to keep in mind,” Max simply offered before looking down at Violet. “Ready?”
“Yes.” She went to the Hardys, giving each another hug before exchanging more pleasantries. “Safe travels home.”
“You as well,” Tara offered.
Max nodded to them before steering Violet out of the cabana and toward their own.
****
Once inside, Violet plopped on the bed with her eyes closed while she heard Max lock the door. The bed depressed as he joined her, lightly running a finger across her forehead.
“Need something for that headache?”
She opened her eyes and turned to look at her husband. “Only you.” Lifting her hand, she ran her thumb across his strong jaw before cupping his cheek. “Would you think me terrible if I told you I really don’t have a headache?”
His mouth curved in a smile as his eyes lit up and he laughed. “Hell, no. I was trying to come up with excuses for us to leave when you said you had the headache.”
“Really?” She sat up. “You didn’t want to be there, either?”
“No, I really didn’t. I mean, prior to going, sure, I thought I was looking forward to the evening. But as soon as we stepped through the door, maybe even before, I just wanted to turn around, come back, and have you all to myself.”
She grabbed his hands and held them between hers. “Oh, Max, why didn’t you say something? I would’ve understood.”
“Because I thought you wanted it. I mean, you’ve been opening yourself up, and these experiences have been fuckin’ fantastic, and I—”
“You’re my husband, and you’re all that matters.”
“No, Violet. You matter, too.”
