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“Ross,” I said. “Look at me.”
He looked.
“I want this. She wants this. You want this. Nobody’s getting decked.” I swallowed. “Take her dress off, mate.”
Fiona let out a shaky laugh. Ross let out a long breath, like he’d been holding it for three weeks. Then he turned back to my wife and pulled the tie on her dress.
It fell open. Black lace underneath, sheer, her nipples dark and hard through it. Ross stared at her like he’d never seen a woman before.
“Fuck, Fi,” he whispered. “Nineteen years I’ve been not looking at you.”
“Look now.”
He did more than look. His mouth went to her neck, her collarbone, her breast through the lace. She arched into him with a moan and dragged his shirt over his head. Within a minute her bra was on the floor, his jeans were open, and her hand was wrapped around his cock, stroking it slow while she kissed him.
She lay back on the sofa and pulled him down on top of her. He slid her knickers down her legs. Then he hesitated, his cock pressed against her thigh.
“Condom,” he said. “I’ve, uh. I’ve got one. In my wallet.”
Fiona looked past him at me, flushed and wide-eyed, and said quietly, “Or we don’t. He’s been tested. I’m on the pill.” She bit her lip. “It’s up to Cal.”
Ross froze, looking at me too.