I had met Donna and Mandy for drinks at the corner bar, like we always do at least once a month for our girls’ night out.

I often flirt with guys while I’m there — even though I’m married. Occasionally, I have a little make-out session in the parking lot with a hot stud. And even more rarely, I want more.

On this particular night, I wanted more, and I knew right away who I wanted it from: the six-foot-tall, dark-haired guy with broad shoulders and a handsome face who was sitting at the bar. I’d caught him looking at me once or twice and flashed him a smile.

It was hard to concentrate on my two best friends because I was staring at the guy’s hands on his beer bottle, wondering what his big mitts would look like on my thighs. I tried to imagine what they’d feel... Read More