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her own desire returning with just as much rising intensity.
    Wanting her on a soft bed so he could pound into her like he was dying to, he grabbed her ass in his hands, holding her tight against him as he quickly stood up, keeping their bodies joined.
    Startled by the abrupt move, she threw her arms around his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist, clinging to him. “What are you doing?” she said, her voice a squeak of surprise.
    He headed toward their bedroom, feeling the slide of his cock inside her every step of the way. “It’s our twentieth anniversary, baby. I’m not done with you yet, especially after that nice comment of yours. Before the night is through, I want you to see fucking fireworks .”
    Husky, playful laughter filled his ears. “You can certainly give it your best shot.”
    Reaching their bed, he laid her down on the mattress, pinned her arms above her head and spent the next few hours making good on his promise.

CHAPTER THREE

    J illian couldn’t remember feeling so excited and nervous at the same time — excited to see what The Players Club was all about, and nervous about what to expect once she and Dean arrived at the massive, sprawling mansion. Ever since accepting her husband’s invitation on their anniversary, her anticipation had grown, and tonight was finally the night they’d step outside the boundaries of their own personal playroom and explore more public, forbidden temptations.
    Exhaling a deep breath to calm the butterflies in her stomach, Jillian glanced in the dresser mirror to check her reflection one last time. Per her husband’s request, she was wearing his favorite “little black dress” — a very form-fitting sheath made of shimmering black material that ended mid-thigh. The front had a high neck and long sleeves, giving the illusion of modesty, but the low-cut, backless design made it impossible for her to wear a bra, and the clinging material molded to her full breasts in a way he loved. The only thing she wore beneath were a pair of black lace panties.
    As she waited for Dean to finish up in the bathroom, she slid her feet into a pair of strappy black stilettos then retrieved a velvet lined jewelry box from the safe in the closet and brought it back to her dresser. She opened the box, a reminiscent smile touching her lips as she viewed the long strand of pink-hued freshwater pearls that Dean had given to her a few months ago — and felt a flush of warmth cascade along her skin when she recalled exactly what he’d done with those pearls when they’d returned from dinner that long ago evening.
    “Don’t put those on,” Dean said from behind her before she could lift the necklace from where it was nestled in black satin.
    She glanced over her shoulder at him, her entire body going soft and warm as she took in her sexy, gorgeous husband in a tailored pair of black slacks and a black silk shirt that enhanced his dark, good looks. “Why not? This necklace goes so well with this dress.”
    “Don’t get me wrong, I love that pearl necklace and its many uses,” he said, the heat in his gray eyes telling her that his memories of that night were just as vivid and erotic as her own. “But I have an anniversary gift for you.”
    She frowned in confusion and turned around to face him. “I thought tonight’s invitation to The Players Club was my gift.”
    “The invitation was for us ,” he clarified, and handed her a flat, square jewelry box with a familiar jeweler’s name imprinted on top. His smile was boyishly charming. “I think after putting up with me for twenty years you deserve something special and just for you . I would have given this to you the night of our anniversary, but I had it custom made and it wasn’t quite ready.”
    She absently caressed her fingers over the soft velvet lining the top of the box, certain he’d paid a small fortune for whatever was inside. “You didn’t have to do this, you know.”
    He pressed his fingers to her lips,