Read What Wendy Wants for Free Online Page A

when the sun went down.
    Frank blinked when Wendy drew her long, lovely legs
inside the car. What exactly was she wearing? His eyes narrowed with
concentration. Her stockings appeared to be sheer silk. "Those aren't panty
hose, are they?" he asked.
    She gave him a sultry smile and a mischievous wink.
"If you're lucky, you'll find out later exactly what they are."
    Holy shit. The image of his wife
naked, in high heels, and wearing a garter belt almost made his eyes cross.
    Frank cleared his throat. "Keep teasing me like that
and you won't be making it to the restaurant," he growled. "I might
just do you in the car right now."
    Wendy giggled happily at his warning, and the sound of it
made his heart soar. Frank shut the car door and went around to the driver's
seat.
    Service in The Penrose Room was impeccable and the place
was packed. When their waiter escorted them to their table, Frank waved the man
off when he pulled out a chair for Wendy. With fleeting confusion, and then a
smile of understanding, the waiter nodded and left.
    Frank wanted to seat his wife himself.
    As Wendy sat down, he ran a hand along her bare arm in
the process. Frank pushed the palm of his hand under her hair and possessively
wrapped his fingers around her nape. Wendy gave a little shiver and slight
flush in response. Were those goose bumps?
    Neck/ nape 55%, Frank
thought feeling extraordinarily smug. Definitely an erogenous zone.
Demonstrating possession is an alpha male trait, like in all those erotic
stories she's been reading. It should turn her on.
    Frank sat beside Wendy, rather than across from her. They
both ordered the Acapulco Shrimp Ceviche, a house special for the night, with a
chilled white wine that tasted of pears and peaches. The entire dinner they
chatted and laughed, and Frank flirted outrageously, openly undressing her with
his eyes, while imagining what he planned to do to her later.
    His wife seemed self-conscious under his intent and
carnal gaze. Wendy was a little out of her element. Frank was intentionally putting
her off balance. That was part of the plan. Wendy had to let go - she had to
let him guide her. And his intended result? Frank smiled. Multiple orgasms.
    Yet for him to take control, first she had to lose it.
    When they finished the meal he asked, "Desert?"
    "Not for me," she said.
    "Me neither." Frank flagged down his waiter and
paid the bill. "Then let's go dancing, but first," he said, bringing
his wine glass up for a toast. "To the most beautiful woman in this
room," he said with complete sincerity, "my stunning and absolutely gorgeous
wife."
    Wendy's lips curved in an uncertain, almost shy smile and
they both drank. Other than today, when was the last time he complimented her
on her looks? Had it been so long ago that she didn't even know how to react to
such praise?
    I've been taking her for granted, he realized. Wendy deserves so much more.
    Frank wanted to make up for his thoughtless disregard. Reaching
for her hand, he brought her knuckles to his lips, giving them a soft caress and
a sexy little nibble.
    "I mean it, you know," he said quietly.
"No other woman compares to you."
    Wendy gave him a wry half-smile, shook her head, and
cleared her throat. "If you're trying to put me in the mood, Frank,"
she murmured. "I'm here to tell you that it's working."
    Yes! Desire begins in a woman's mind, he
reminded himself.
    Standing up, he moved behind her chair. He leaned over
and said in a low voice, seductively whispering into her ear, "Tonight I'm
not going to simply put you in the mood. I'm going to make you scream - over
and over again."
    Wendy's face reddened, but not with embarrassment. Frank watched
that blush travel to her arms and neck. Was this that sex flush that he had
read about? She opened her mouth and then closed it again. Had he actually made
her speechless? Wendy stood up on somewhat shaky legs and Frank draped her
shawl around her.
    He placed his palm low on her back, intentionally
pressing his fingers