SpiceMeUp

Renee
Field

A book in the Spice Rack series.

After a decade of marriage, Tasha is longing for a wild weekend
of adult fun with her alpha husband, Mack. When her mother takes the kids for
the weekend, the timing is perfect for her night of seduction but a no-show
from her police officer hubby hurts.

Mack is determined to make it up to his wife but an
unexpected visit by his buddy Sawyer throws a wrench in his plans. Or does it?
Would Tasha be up for a threesome? When Mack brings up the idea of a ménage,
his shy wife quickly disappears to be replaced by a wild sex kitten. Even
though Mack knows he’s controlling their weekend of fun, it’s Tasha who teaches
him the real meaning of the word.

A
Romantica®
contemporary menage erotic romance
from Ellora’s Cave

Disappointment pooled through Tasha like spilled red wine.
She tried in vain to ignore the stain it cast on her heart and mind but failed.
And just like the wine she’d accidentally tipped over in her haste to ensure
all was perfect for her dinner of seduction, the mark ran deep within her.

She read the text again from her hubby saying he’d be at
work late and sighed. “Why tonight?” No one answered back and the silence spoke
volumes. Instead of rejoicing that the two children had been scooped up by her
mother she felt oddly lonely. And how dare she feel that way. After all, didn’t
she have the perfect life—married to a hardworking man, two healthy, beautiful
and often very loud boys and a career that was finally taking off? Yes, she’d
tell her friends if any asked, but something, some spark of passion, had seeped
out of her marriage. She wanted that rush and tingle back. The one she used to
get when her man walked through the door. Tonight had been about reclaiming
that passion. As usual, their lack of communication, which lately consisted of
texting and not actually speaking, overshadowed everything.

After a bubble bath, two glasses of wine and devouring three
chapters in the latest erotic romance novel she was reading, Tasha crawled into
her large king-sized bed. Her comfort, the stray sleek black cat she’d taken in
over two weeks ago, had religiously claimed the foot of the bed as her own
special place. The poor thing looked a lot better than that day Tasha had found
her dripping wet and unconscious on the side of the road. In fact, her fur positively
gleamed thanks to the vitamins the vet had given her.

“Just you and me, Kitty. Guess I should finally name you as
I don’t think anyone but us wants you.” The cat ignored her and purred contently
in her sleep.

“Let me see…how about Blackie. No that sucks. You need
something more exotic. How about Ebony? Naw, that doesn’t sound right. You look
more regal than a black rock. What about Cleopatra?”

That cat swiveled its head and blinked nice and slow at
Tasha. “Well that settles it, my queen, you are now from this day forth called Cleopatra.
Welcome to the Mackenzie household. Hope you don’t mind cold winters because
that’s usually what we get in Nova Scotia.”

Tasha crawled under her blankets, feeling slightly better.
At least she’d accomplished something today—she’d named the cat. Mumbling as
she went to sleep, Tasha remained oblivious to the cat getting up gracefully
from the foot of the bed to jump down to the floor and sit still as a statue.
But unbeknownst to Tasha the cat had finally come awake.

Cleopatra. How fitting. The goddess within
the body of the cat had finally clawed herself to the forefront. If that maniac
driver had had his way she’d be dead. Thanks to the sweet kindness of Tasha
she’d had time to heal and that was a gift in itself. Two weeks to dream, and slowly,
without the constant dim of the other gods and goddesses seeking her out for
this and that, she’d discovered something. This woman, as many working mothers,
deserved a little spice in her life. And now that Hathor’s powers were once
again in full form, she was going to receive a very special package. And with
that Hathor, who enjoyed her sleek feline form, walked with her tail straight
and proud out of the bedroom to put things into motion. With each step she
purred louder.

Mack tiptoed through the house trying to be quiet. Evidence
of the special night his wife had worked hard to create for them silhouetted
the dark room but the house still smelled of vanilla from the melted candles
and the bottle of wine still sat on the table. He cursed silently. The boys
were with her mother and he’d had every intention of getting home early but the
double murder in the North End had overshadowed everything. When his boss had
told him of his assigment as lead detective on the case he’d jumped at the
chance but maybe his leap had been misplaced. Lately it seemed as if Tasha were
slipping from him. The children, as young as they were—eight and ten—demanded
their attention. And what little time they had together was often spent on other
things, like trying to get some basic repairs finished around the house they’d
bought a year ago. What he wouldn’t give for those early carefree days of his
marriage when it was him and Tasha and they could have wild monkey sex whenever
they wanted.

Slipping off his clothes in the bathroom, he folded them out
of habit. Padding across the floor, he tripped on that damn cat his wife, who
had a heart as big as Texas, had brought home. His knee bumped the side of the
door hard and with a muffled curse he barely resisted kicking the cat.

“You okay?” Tasha’s sleep-induced, husky voice stroked
through him.

Getting into bed, he snuggled close to her, enjoying her
body heat and the feel of her ass tucked tight to him. “Sorry to wake you, hon.
I’m okay. Tripped over that damn cat.”

“Cleopatra.”

“What?”

“I named the cat Cleopatra.”

“Fitting,” said Mack, resisting the urge to run his hands
across his wife’s breasts. Spooned as they were, it would be so easy to fill
one of his hands with their weight. He loved his wife’s figure, but lately she bemoaned
how big they’d become after the last baby. They could never be too big if you
asked him. Then again he was a hot-blooded male. She turned to face him and the
sweet smell of her lilac perfume hit him. She didn’t usually wear perfume and
knowing she’d gone the extra mile to entice him made his cock stir.

“Is it okay if we keep her?”

Tasha turned over to snuggle closer to him. “Keep
who?” asked Mack, his mind drifting to the image of him tucking Tasha
underneath him. She moved her rump and wiggled against him and he made damn
sure she felt his erection press into her back.

“The cat. We’re keeping her.”

“I figured that out the day you brought her home.”

Tasha giggled and then bless his wife, she took matters into
her own hands. Bringing his arm around her side, she laid his hand on her
breast and after twelve years together if that wasn’t an invitation for sex he
was flat-out stupid.

Through the black silky teddy she wore, he teased her nipple,
wishing he could see her dusty-rose-colored bud. She moaned and then turned
into his arms, and Mack was more than ready for those sweet lips of hers. But
instead of kissing him as he anticipated, she pulled back the blankets, and sat
up.

“I read this book earlier and the writer talked all about
anticipation.”

“What?” he asked, as both hands cupped her breasts.

She leaned over him and he waited once again for her kiss.
Kisses he loved. His wife could literally make him come just from those
deep-throated kisses that robbed him of breath but made everything else in him
come alive and kicking.

“The writer said anticipation, like good foreplay, is magic
in itself when it comes to adding some spice to a relationship.”

Mack wasn’t sure what to say to that. It sounded like a lot
of woman-talk for no-sex and that didn’t sound good to him. “Listen, honey,
about tonight. I’m really sorry I was late.”

“I know.”

“So you’re not mad.”

“Just disappointed but I’m okay with it. I’m glad you’re
home now. But I want to try something different.”

With only the full moon shining through the crack of the
bedroom curtains Tasha couldn’t see Mack raise his eyebrows.
Different could
be good.
A few wicked ideas jumped to mind but he quickly dismissed them.
Tasha, his wife of over a decade, was and always would be sweet and pure. She
wasn’t the type of woman to play it wild and that had been her appeal to the
once-wild Mack who’d been known to play the field with more than one woman at a
time. Tasha wasn’t like that. Worry and a bit of excitement nudged into Mack.
Maybe Tasha wanted something more. More worry wormed its way through Mack’s
heart.
Shit, maybe I’ve messed up big-time.

“What do you have in mind?” asked Mack,
flicking on the small electronic candle on his side table. His fingers by this
time had tweaked both her nipples into tight points. More than anything he
longed for her to lean closer so he could suckle her senseless. Mack debated
taking matters into his own hands to flip her over on the bed so he could have
his wicked way with her. He groaned with longing when she finally placed both
hands flat on his chest. She was now panting with desire and her cheeks had
taken on that cute pink flush they did when passion reared its head. He yearned
to sink a finger inside her to see if she was as wet as he anticipated. As a
cop he’d been told often his skill was listening to people, and if there was
one thing Mack realized, his wife was broadcasting a silent protest that said
she was pissed at him.

“Well, can tonight just be about touching and no kissing and
no—”

“No sex.” God, just saying the word made him ache.

“It’s just an experiment, Mack. Tomorrow we’ll move to
something different.”

“Like sex,” he said, moving a hand to claim his wife’s ass.

She laughed and then said, “Maybe.”

“Tasha, this is our one weekend without the kids. I’m dying
for sex.”

She leaned over him, her ample breasts all but begging for
his mouth. An inch more and they’d be his.

“Me too, but like the author said, anticipation will make it
all the better.”

“So let me understand this. Tonight we get to touch. Am I
allowed to make you come?”

“Nope. Just touching and then tomorrow we’ll move it to the
next level. You game?”

“Oh, honey, let the games begin,” said Mack. Sweet anticipation
curled hot and hard through him, because if Mack knew one thing, it was how to
make the best of any game.

Sawyer hoped to hell his friend had gotten his text. The bus
he’d been planning to take from the Halifax Airport to Cape Breton had broken
down and wouldn’t be ready until Monday. That meant he had a weekend to kill in
Halifax and Mack, his longtime buddy, had always said to drop by anytime.
Sawyer had been thrilled he’d been able to hitch a ride from the airport thanks
to a friendly driver, which meant at 7 a.m. he was at his friend’s door. He was
about to ring the bell when two things happened at once—the door opened and the
woman wearing the sexy-as-hell black teddy, which barely concealed her assets,
jumped into his arms.

“Sawyer, it’s
sooo
good to see you.” Tasha hugged him
a little tighter than he remembered, not that he minded as she pressed her
breasts against his chest. She smelled of warm coffee and light perfume and he
had to remind himself Mack was the one who’d married Tasha and not him.

“Ah, good to see you too, Tasha. Is Mack home?”

“Oh, silly me. Come in. Yup, he’s in the shower. I planned
to make more coffee. Come in. I can’t wait to see the expression on his face
when he sees you. I’m so glad you stopped by.”

The way Tasha looked at him made Sawyer feel a bit like a
schoolboy.
And why the hell isn’t she running to get an ugly housecoat or
something to cover up?

“I’m on leave for two weeks and thought I’d
visit the old homestead in Cape Breton but the bus broke down and I’m stuck
until Monday.”

“You’re not stuck at all. You can stay with us. It’s perfect
timing. My mom came yesterday to take the boys for the weekend and I’m a little
at loose ends.”

“Tasha, are you now talking to yourself?” said Mack, walking
into the kitchen wearing only his jeans. His hair was wet but the smile
greeting Sawyer felt like old times. “Sweet Jesus, look what the cat dragged
in.”

Tasha watched Mack embrace Sawyer like a long-lost brother
and a daring plan she’d thought of more than once since she’d known the two
handsome men began to hatch. Thinking it and voicing her desires though were
two different things.

“Sawyer’s going to stay with us for the weekend, until the
bus to Cape Breton gets fixed,” said Tasha, pouring coffee into three mugs.
“You still like it sweet?” she asked Sawyer, turning her head to give him a
once-over.

Laughing, Sawyer took the sugar spoon from her and filled
his mug with three large scoops of the sweet nectar.

“The sweeter the better,” he said, grinning as he pulled her
in for a friendly hug. “I sent a text, Mack. Did you get it?”

“No, but I’m thrilled you’re here.”

Sawyer kept his arm around Tasha’s waist. That was
Sawyer—always touchy-feely—but this time she didn’t protest. Knowing she
flirted on purpose and that her hubby was keenly aware of what she wore, Tasha playfully
turned into Sawyer’s arms. “Still the flirt I remember.”

“And you are even more gorgeous than I remember.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” said Tasha with a wide
grin as she maneuvered herself out of Sawyer’s arms.

“Everywhere. A man can only dream.”

“That’s enough, you two.”

“Mack you are one lucky man to have such a sexy wife. Let me
enjoy the fantasy for a moment longer,” said Sawyer.

“Only for a moment, but remember she’s my wife, not yours.”

Tasha giggled and her heart skipped a beat. “Well this wife
of yours has to get dressed. I’ll let you two he-men work it out.”

“Can’t I just share you for the weekend?” teased Sawyer.

“I’m okay with sharing as long as you help Mack with the
front deck,” said Tasha, taking a sip of coffee as she eyed both men with a
long appreciative look. Then before her blush got any brighter she turned and
sauntered out of the kitchen, enjoying the whistle she knew came from Sawyer.

“Hot damn, she’s hotter than I remember. You are one lucky
man, Mack.”

“You’re starting to repeat yourself, and I know it, but—”

“But what?”

Mack didn’t like the look his wife had thrown at Sawyer. The
three of them went way back but he’d been the one to snag Tasha. Why then was
she practically throwing herself at his friend?