LOGINDenver’s hands trembled as he poured black coffee into Marcus’s mug the next morning, the familiar clink and hiss of the kitchen somehow grounding him. The sun was barely up, but the night’s events pressed on his chest like a weight he couldn’t shake.Marcus eyed his friend over the rim of his mug. “You look like you got hit by a truck, man. Didn’t you have a date night with India?”Denver rubbed at his face, the lines of exhaustion deepening. “I thought I did. But it wasn’t India who sent that message. It was my mother. She set me up, Marcus. She wanted me to meet Leah in a hotel room.”He let the words spill out—how Sharon had texted him pretending to be India, how Leah was waiting in lingerie, how everything unraveled in a tangle of old wounds and new betrayal.Marcus’s jaw dropped. “Wait. Ms. Kincaid did what? Your mom set you up to cheat on your wife—with Leah?”Denver nodded miserably. “Leah said she thought I wanted to see her. But the whole thing was Mom’s idea. She’s been try
Denver’s phone buzzed as he pulled into the driveway, the evening sky streaked with the last hints of gold. He’d been looking forward to a quiet night at home with India, maybe some takeout and a movie. But the message glowing on his screen changed his plans.Room 613. The Westview Hotel. I want tonight to be just us. Come to me. — IA thrill ran through him. India could be spontaneous, and their relationship always thrived on little surprises. Maybe after the run-in at the mall—after the way Sharon had been—India wanted to do something special, something just for them. He smiled, texted her a quick “On my way,” and headed downtown, anticipation building.The Westview was swanky and discreet, with plush carpets and gilded elevators. Denver’s heart raced as he rode up, picturing India waiting for him, maybe wearing something that would drive him wild. The thought made his pulse quicken. He knocked softly on the door, then tried the handle. It was unlocked.Inside, the lights were dimme
The mall’s air was cool and scented with the faint perfume haze of a hundred cosmetics counters, but the atmosphere between Sharon and Leah as they strolled arm in arm was warm, cozy—almost conspiratorial. Their laughter echoed off the marble floors as they zigzagged between stores, their shopping bags swinging with each step.“Sharon, you have to let me do this,” Leah insisted, holding up a gleaming designer purse. The buttery leather caught the light, a soft blush pink, sophisticated and unmistakably expensive. “You’ve done so much for me. I want you to have it.”Sharon put a hand to her chest, eyes wide in mock protest, but it took only a moment before she relented, her lips curving in a pleased, grateful smile. “You spoil me, Leah. You know you don’t have to do all this, but I can’t say no. It’s beautiful.”They laughed again, tucking the bag into one of Sharon’s arms, and continued their leisurely pace. The closeness between them was obvious—Sharon’s hand resting lightly on Leah’
How much alcohol had it taken to get Denver to the point where he couldn't entirely lift his head off the pillow? It was a good starter question. Something like this has never happened to him before. A perfectly shaped warm body was sleeping next to him? The feel of soft flesh made him smile in his sleep. This whole scene was a great reminder of just how much fun he had last night. Vanessa rounded buns pressing up against his thigh. She's making his (rod) rise, asking for more! Then, as his thoughts battle with Charlie, it is taking place. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees an incredible image as the young lady slides out of bed. So Marcus spoke up, clearing his throat. "Good...good morning, Miss Monroe," Vanessa tilted her head up, her voice playful and sultry. “Good morning back to you, So… did you enjoy your surprise?” Marcus grinned, his eyes warm. “It was perfect. You’re perfect.”She fully turned her nude body around, facing him. Marcus' eyes expanded. For sure, she was
It had taken a month of whispered planning, secret Pinterest boards, and late-night calls. India and Vanessa wanted this night to be unforgettable—a declaration that love, no matter how tested, could still be celebrated.The city glittered as dusk fell, lights twinkling beneath the glassy skyline. At the heart of it all, inside the crown jewel of downtown hotels, a private penthouse was transformed into a romantic haven. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the city’s heartbeat. Candlelight shimmered on every surface, casting gold over white linen and crystal. A string quartet played soft, dreamy songs, and roses adorned every table. The room was set for only four, a world apart from the rest.The ladies had gone all out. Two pearl colored, gleaming Rolls-Royces waited at their respective homes, chauffeurs in crisp uniforms at the ready. India wore a deep sapphire gown that hugged her waist and fluttered at her ankles, her hair was swept into soft waves, and her lips were painted in a bold
The kitchen was quiet except for the faint hum of the refrigerator and the scratch of India’s pen as she bent over her notebook. She’d spread out her planning across the table—menus, playlist ideas, scribbled hearts, and notes about candlelight and Marcus’s favorite wine. Her face was soft in the low light, eyes narrowed with purpose. She was halfway lost in imagining how she could make Denver fall in love all over again when the sound of a key turning in the lock jolted her.In a practiced motion, India swept the notebook off the table and tucked it under her thigh, smoothing her skirt over it just as Denver walked in. He paused in the doorway, his gaze scanning the scene. India felt her heart jump. Did she look guilty? Was her smile too forced?“Hey,” he said, his voice tired, his smile brief.“Hey,” she replied, casually brushing a hand over her lap. She could sense him noticing the tension in her shoulders, but he seemed too preoccupied to care. Denver’s face was pale and drawn, h
The knock at the door was thunderous, shaking the picture frames on Denver’s walls. You would have thought it was the police. India stiffened, eyes wide and red from hours of silent tears. Denver pressed his palm to her shoulder, steadying her—steadying himself. He’d been preparing for this moment
Denver had risen early, thinking about the way she kissed him. His thoughts seemed clearer than ever before. “I’m a married man. This isn’t a joke. Maybe it's temporary, but at this moment, I’m someone’s husband in real life. And that someone is India.” As their honeymoon days came and went, Denve
India had to admit, it wasn't that Denver made it terribly uncomfortable for her. She realized that the kiss, with that glass of wine, made it feel like more than just being friends was happening between them. But she kept in mind that drinking always made her relax, but she wondered if she was l
"I've got to be honest, I feel nervous," India said, looking at him sincerely. "Okay, red or white?""Red is as good as any," India said.Denver walked away feeling relieved that he wasn't the only one nervous about all of this. He picked up two glasses. She needed a drink too. Denver took a seat







