A/N: Takes place between Chapters Six and Seven of Unintended. Stop now if you don't want to read about Angela sleeping with anyone other than Tony!

Chapter One: Come Sail Away

Sunday, October 21, 1990

"Tony? I'm going sailing with Andy. See you later!" Angela was practically out the front door before he entered the living room. He did see a glimpse of her purse, a rarely-used navy leather shopper. What really caught his attention was the bit of lace sticking out of it. He recognized it as the trim of her baby blue silk chemise, an article acquired during the Geoffrey-with-a-G era. Her agreement to hand wash her own unmentionables had lasted approximately three months. They didn't talk about it, though.

Andy walked Angela out and held the passenger door of his car open. She dropped her bag on the seat before turning to give him a peck on the lips. "I'm so glad we're doing this," she said in a high, breathy voice.

He responded by pinning her against the door frame and kissing her a bit harder. "Me too," he said, sliding a hand under her sweater and pressing his fingers into the side of her waist. Tony watched from behind the curtain in the entryway.

On the drive to the marina, Angela reached over and rested her left hand on Andy's knee. She moved it up his thigh in teasingly gradual increments. By the time they parked, he was ready to jump the center console. She unbuckled her seatbelt and reached for his zipper.

"Hold on, Angela." He pulled her hands off him and placed them back in her own lap. She looked out the windshield, realizing it was broad daylight. "Let's finish this on the boat." He leaned over and pressed his lips to her neck. Her heartbeat raced, not with desire, but with nervous energy. She needed to follow through before the impulse faded.

Within a few minutes, they were onboard, alone at last. Andy pulled Angela to him by her wrists and pressed his thigh between her legs. She began unbuttoning his shirt as they kissed. He countered by putting his hands under her sweater and reaching around her back to unclasp her bra. She touched his chest and stomach, finding his body pleasantly soft. He slid one hand around her bare lower back and the other up her side, grazing her breast with his thumb. She pulled his shirt out of his pants and pushed it off his shoulders. Then she shocked him by unfastening his belt, unzipping his pants, and dropping to her knees.

Andy sat down on the bed and threaded his fingers through Angela's loose waves as she worked him over. He grabbed at the neck and shoulders of her sweater and pulled up. She cooperated to shed herself of the sweater and shook off her red lace bra, then set back to the task of pleasuring him. Her tongue slid across the delicate flesh, and her hands tested different positions and levels of pressure. After a few minutes, he pulled her up by the armpits and unbuttoned her pants, simultaneously toeing off his shoes and socks. She kicked off her own shoes and rid herself of all remaining fabric, other than a red lace g-string.

"My turn." He guided her to straddle him on the bed, his member brushing against the lace, then leaned back on his elbows, prompting her to scoot forward. He wound his arms around her hips and squeezed her rear. With his nose, he pushed the loose strip of fabric aside and fastened his mouth to her. Her hips rocked, pressing her most sensitive parts against his tongue and lips. The sensation reawakened long dormant feelings. She looked down to admire her own body, finding her flat stomach and lean thighs appealing for a change. Her breasts bounced as Andy adjusted his position slightly, and she drew a curious hand across both of her erect nipples.

Seeing this, Andy suddenly decided to flip her onto her back and drag the g-string down her long legs, stopping to lap at her most intimate area along the way. He straddled her left thigh, and she could feel him rocking his hips in search of friction. He thrust his manicured middle and ring fingers into her wetness and started rubbing at her clit with thumb. They kissed sloppily, both too turned on to hold anything back. When he moved his mouth down across her chest and over her right breast, sucking and nipping gently, she threw her head back and called his name. Her breathing was shallow and fast, and she was ready to let him take her over the finish line. He skipped to the left breast, and she arched her back. "Harder. Use your teeth." She could hear squelching and feel the wetness spreading down her thighs. His thumb slid across her clit, back and forth, and she bore into it. And then, finally it happened.

"Andy…Fuck!" she groaned. She couldn't remember the last time she had come so hard. Not with Geoffrey, that was for sure. Not with Grant. It had to be with Michael. Before they had married, or maybe after they had separated, when he was willing to work harder to please her.

Andy eased off, and when Angela collapsed against the bed, he pulled away. She looked like she was on cloud nine. "Get my bag," she drawled. He retrieved it from near the door and placed it on the bed next to her. "Let's see what we can do about that," she teased, lightly running the back of her fingernail along the length of his erection as it twitched.

When Angela pulled an entire box of condoms out of her purse, Andy couldn't believe his luck. He had put one in his wallet after the previous night's call, but evidently, that wasn't going to be enough.

After the two consummated their relationship, Angela freshened up and changed into the blue chemise. They joined together repeatedly that afternoon, stopping only for champagne and fruit from the mini fridge.

When Angela woke up from their post-coital nap, it was past 9pm. Andy felt sober enough to drive, so they dressed and returned to Oak Hills Drive. Angela attempted to brush her hair in the car, but it was useless. She drifted into the front door of her home to find Tony standing in the entryway.

"What have you been doing?" he accused.

"None of your business," she responded, defiant.

In a calm, detached tone, he said "Well, I can guess that you never left the dock." He appraised her misshapen sweater and wrinkled pants before his gaze landed on her swollen lips and slight beard rash. "Your hair is a mess. Your makeup is worn off." He stepped closer. Inappropriately close for an employee. "And you smell like sweat and latex, among other things." He curled his lip.

"You're just jealous!"

"Jealous? Why would I be jealous?"

"Because Andy is man enough to tell me he wants me," she hissed, "And I let him have me, over and over again." She ran up the stairs to her room and slammed the door.

Tony turned off the lights, locked the front door, and picked up the purse Angela had left behind. In his locked bedroom, he pulled out her blue chemise and inhaled the scent of her. There were two condoms left in the six-count box. He hardly slept that night, with the cool, smooth silk spread across his abdomen, thinking of all the things Andy had done to Angela. He could tell she had been satisfied. That's what pissed him off so much. He wondered how she had sounded at the moment of peak pleasure. He wanted to watch her come. He wanted to feel her and know he was the one responsible for bringing her that release.

In the morning, he got up early and returned the bag to where Angela had left it. She was none the wiser when she retrieved it before going into the kitchen for coffee and juice.