William stared at the door. Waiting for Buffy to emerge. To explain it all. But nothing happened. Instead, the door remained shut. Stubbornly.
What happened? William thought. What the fuck just happened?
William couldn't understand. It had all happened so fast. One minute they were having dinner. And the next…
He'd been left in the living room. All by himself. While Buffy and Xander had ended up in the bedroom. Together.
William kept wondering how events had all spiralled out of his control. So quickly. So irrevocably.
He forced himself to remembered. What had happened tonight. How things had slowly escalated. Xander had begun by the evening flirting with Buffy. Which William had expected.
Then, he'd contrived a reason to send him away. To be alone with Buffy. William had expected this as well. But what threw him off was his wife going along with it.
Then he'd returned to find Xander kissing Buffy. Worse, Buffy had kissed him back. Which threw William for a complete loop. Then, Xander's words in the kitchen and Buffy's confession on the sofa. Finally, the billionaire and his wife had slow danced together. Right in front of him. By this time, William was all at sea.
And then, the coup de grace. Xander and Buffy had gone into the Master Bedroom. Together. To view a painting. At least that was the thinly-veiled excuse.
William wondered how long it had been since the door shut.
He looked at his watch. And couldn't believe it. It had been 10 minutes since Buffy and Xander went inside.
Ten full minutes.
Now, William found only thought running through his mind.
Xander and Buffy are going to fuck. Again. And it's all my fault.
The thought of it left Willliam on the verge of tears. And as hard as a rock.
Oh Christ, William thought. His eyes filling with tears. Christ help me. What's wrong with me?
Just then, William's phone buzzed. He retrieved it from his pants. And stared at the screen. It was an alert. From Buffy's Instagram account.
William opened it with trembling hands. It was a photo of his wife.
Holy shit, he thought.
Buffy was standing at the balcony. Her hands were on the railing. She was leaning slightly forward. Her back was to the camera. Which was a couple of feet away. His wife was admiring the spectacular skyline of Las Vegas. From the balcony of the Penthouse's Master Bedroom.
But William's attention was focused on two things. First, Buffy's shoulders and back. The dress, which he now remembered was backless, was putting an ungodly amount of his wife's flesh on display. Skin that was as golden as her dress.
"Jesus," William whispered.
Then, William's eyes ran all the way down Buffy's bare back. To her heart-shaped bottom. His wife's ass looked incredible in the outfit. Spectacular even. Positively succulent.
Then, William read the caption that accompanied the post.
Guess all those Yoga lessons really paid off. Love from Sin City.
A moment later, William saw that Buffy's post had already racked up hundreds of likes. And a flood of comments salivating over her. Mostly from strangers. But also a few men who knew the couple socially.
As beautiful as ever xxxx, Angel, her high school boyfriend wrote.
Trop belle , Riley, a fellow art dealer, added.
Absolutely beautiful. How do you not age? Giles, an older gentleman and a patron of her gallery, enquired.
William had long had his suspicions about some of these men. They'd hung around his wife for years. Playing the long game. Patiently waiting for something – the slightest sliver of an opportunity – to get into Buffy's pants.
William refreshed the post. By now, it had thousands of likes. And even more men were drooling over his wife in the comments section.
Just then, William got another alert. His wife had posted another picture to Instagram.
This time, Buffy was in the corner of the balcony. His wife was delicately poised on a plush chair. She was leaning back. Her dress was hiked up again. Putting on display her long, athletic legs. Buffy's perfect face was turned away from the camera. As if she were deliberately ignoring it.
Again, William's eyes fell on the caption.
You can look. But you can't…
Again, the post had received hundreds of likes. Within seconds. And people in the comments section, particularly the men, were going crazy.
Then, it occurred to William. Buffy's posts were public. Available to anyone who cared to see. Their friends. Their families. It was as if she were putting herself on display. For the world to see.
What the hell is she playing at? William wondered.
Moments later, William received another Instagram alert.
This time, it was a picture of Buffy's golden dress. It was thrown over the chair in the balcony. William now read the accompanying caption. Gonna be a long night. See you all tomorrow. XOXO
William stared at the dress. Wondering how it had come to be thrown over the couch. Had his wife shrugged it off? With a knowing smile? Or had the billionaire slowly stripped it off her?
Was Xander carrying Buffy to bed this very moment? Or perhaps they were already abed? In the early stages of foreplay?
I can still stop it, he told himself. Stop them.
But even to himself he sounded unconvincing. A moment later, William was on his feet. And walking towards the door of the master bedroom. The door was getting bigger and bigger. Until he was finally in front of it.
William moved to knock on the door. But stopped himself. Suddenly, he felt like an idiot. How would that help? Xander wouldn't open it. Neither would Buffy. If anything, it would only embarrass him further.
William now withdrew his hand. Now, he carefully put his ear to the door. Trying to listen. He held his breath. Tried to focus. Concentrate.
Nothing. Not a peep. Or a whisper. William now examined the door. It looked solid as an oak tree. And twice as heavy. Not likely to give way even if William put his shoulder into it a hundred times.
Then, something occurred to William. Xander had shut the door. But had he locked it?
Then, his hand was moved to the hotel room door handle.
Try it, William thought.
William took a deep, shaky breath.
But before he could push down on the handle, his phone buzzed again.
It was another Instagram alert. But this time, it was a private message. From Buffy. William stared at his phone. Which was trembling in his hands. A moment later, he'd clicked on it. And a picture of his wife filled his phone screen.
Buffy was lying across the King-size bed. She'd struck a seductive pose. In black lingerie and high heels. Her left hand was lying flat on the bed. Supporting her weight. Her right hand was on her hip.
Holy fuck, William thought.
Then, William read the accompanying message.
For Your Eyes Only.
It barely registered with William. He couldn't take his eyes off his wife. Buffy looked absolutely stunning. Sensational. Her breasts were high and firm. Her legs shiny and smooth. Every inch of her was golden tanned. Her eyes were flirtatious. Her expression was sultry.
Jesus, William thought.
Then, another private message arrived. Again, from Buffy.
Again, William clicked on it.
This picture was taken from closer to the bed. This time, Buffy had placed both hands on the bed. Her face was bowed slightly, but she was still staring into the camera. This time, her expression was serious. Her gorgeous eyes were burning. It was as if she was peering into the very depth of his soul.
William could see it in his wife's eyes. Could practically hear his wife's voice in her head.
I wanna get fucked Will, Buffy's voice said. Right here. Right now. I need it baby. More than anything.
William's legs nearly buckled. When he found himself holding onto the door for support, his hand inadvertently pushed down on the handle. William heard a soft click. The latch of door had retracted.
"Oh fuck," William whispered.
Now, with the greatest of care, William opened the door. Just a sliver. And, taking a shaky breath, looked inside.
