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“The Sybian Club is not illegal,” she insisted, hoping her stiffened spine and haughty demeanor belied any of her sudden doubts. “And even if you wanted to tell the authorities about it, I’m sure they’d be interested to hear that you made a visit to my little basement with your wife and had a great old time.”

Ray held his hands up in a warding-off gesture, chuckling. “Hey, I’m not threatening anything here…”

“No?” Tasha softened a little but her eyes pinned him narrowly still, watchful, waiting.

“No… see… I was just wondering…” His smile turned up at the corners, his gaze dropping again, this time to her short hemline and the tall boots she wore. “If you and your girlfriend wanted a little company in the afternoons?”

She couldn’t believe his arrogance. “If we do, I’ll let you know.” She turned back to the house, ignoring his last remark.

“You do that!”

Her cheeks felt hot as she set the bottle of champagne down on the table and she was glad Max wasn’t in the kitchen. She needed a few moments to compose herself. It was the camera that had made her forget all about her neighbor, she realized. Ashley had known right away who that camera belonged to.

“Your husband’s been watching us,” Ashley had whispered as they left the room. They both whispered, at Tasha’s insistence-she didn’t know if the camera picked up audio or not.

The thought hadn’t even occurred to Tasha before the words were out, but there it was, and she knew it must be true. Who else?

“I don’t-” Tasha wanted to deny it but found she couldn’t.

They sat at this very kitchen table that night, she remembered, each of them ironically wearing one of Max’s t-shirts which Tasha had retrieved from his drawer, and talked.

“Are you mad?” That was the first question Tasha asked her and she couldn’t believe the relief that pulsed through her when Ashley shook her head. She said her next question more to the air than to Ashley, “Why hasn’t he said anything?”

“I think he’s scared to tell you he knows.” Ashley sighed over her mug. Tasha had made orange tea, partly because she knew Ashley loved it, partly because she was incredibly restless and it gave her something to do, but more because she loved watching her girlfriend warm her hands around mug. They looked so small and delicate.

“You really think… he’s been watching us?” Tasha rested her chin in her palm, her eyes searching, intent on the window, as if she could see through it to Max in his hotel room. There was only darkness there and a faint glimmer of her own reflection. Was he trying to catch her at something? Was he just curious about what went on in the Sybian room when he wasn’t there? The latter she wouldn’t put past him… but the former? Max was a straightforward sort of guy. If he knew something, if he felt slighted by her, she knew he would say something. So why hadn’t he?

“I know he knows.” Ashley’s words were almost swallowed by the mug at her lips, her eyes downcast to the table. “He told me so.”

Tasha stared at her, open-mouthed. “He… what?”

Her girlfriend tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear and cleared her throat. “A few weeks ago… remember when we were working on the site?”

Tasha nodded, feeling as if she was doing so in slow motion. Ashley had mad computer skills, she discovered, and had re-vamped the original Sybian Club web site. They had chat rooms, forums, a blog, all sorts of interesting toys to play with now in the cyber collection. They were even applying to be a Sybian dealer.

“He stopped me on my way out to my car that night.” Ashley’s eyes still stayed focused on the table, where she traced her finger around the wet ring her mug had made. “And he told me he knew about us.”

Tasha stared at her. Max knew? Max knew, and he had approached Ashley instead of her?

“Was he mad?”

Ashley shook her head, spreading the wetness on the table in a back and forth pattern now. “He told me he was okay with it… he said… he said he could see how much we… cared about each other.”

Tasha considered this, weighing it against what she knew about her husband. It was true, he didn’t have a possessive bone in his body. They’d talked about opening up their marriage in some sort of polyamorous capacity, had even taken steps toward doing it, putting ads on adult sites looking for another woman. It was a whole other world, they discovered, and bi-women who wanted to be with couples were apparently very rare – so rare, everyone wondered if they really existed and sardonically dubbed them “unicorns”. It was either laugh or cry, she supposed. When they didn’t have any luck finding someone, and Max’s job had begun to take more of his time, and Tasha found her new interest – Sybian porn – the idea had just sort of dropped off the radar.

Ashley had said more that night, Tasha remembered. Much more. She and Max had stood outside talking for quite a while, leaving Tasha to play on the computer with the new web site, losing track of time entirely.

Now, staring at the bottle of champagne on the table, she wondered at herself, how she had missed the signs?

When Max came back from his talk with Ashley, she’d been oblivious. He’d taken her to bed, and they’d had incredible sex, and even when he brought the fantasy of another woman into their hot little session (which happened often – that was nothing unusual) and then, afterward, asked her more about Ashley – what did she do? Where did she live? Was she straight? Gay? Bi? Instead of getting a clue, Tasha had sleepily answered all his questions and then drifted off to sleep.

Max knew. He’d apparently known for a while, and whether he had set the camera up to get “proof” (which she doubted) or he had put it in because the thought of watching women getting off on the Sybian in his own basement while he couldn’t even watch was too much bear, it didn’t matter.

She had asked Ashley that night the very thought that went through her head now. What am I going to say to him?

Part of her was furious at him for putting the camera in. Lord knows, if any of her clients knew they were being taped, there would be major consequences. But she rarely ever got truly mad at Max – she was very indulgent with him, and she couldn’t blame him, in a way, for wanting to watch.

Then there was the subject of Ashley… how to bring that up? She just didn’t know.

“Tash?” Max’s call brought her out of her reverie and she picked up the champagne, turning toward the sound of his voice.

“In here!”

Max stopped in the doorway, raising his eyebrows at the bottle. “What’s this?”

“I’ve got good news.”

“So I gathered!” He leaned against the door frame, smiling. “And?”

Tasha held up the bottle and grinned back at him. “The Sybian Club is officially in the black!”

“You’re kidding?”

Tasha grinned even broader. “We’ve paid for all the new equipment plus the renovations to the basement!”

“Damn girl!” Max grabbed her around the waist and Tasha laughed as he hugged her close. She held the bottle of champagne out of harm’s way. “Let’s get some glasses and celebrate!”

She let Max uncork the bottle while she got two champagne flutes down from the top cupboard and gave them a good rinsing out – they didn’t have cause to drink like this very often.

Max poured for them both and lifted his glass to her. “To my incredibly beautiful, smart, talented and inventive wife…”

Tasha flushed with pleasure, clinking her glass with his. “And to my tolerant, open-minded husband.” Sipping, she mmm-ed at the taste, light and fresh. “I forgot strawberries. That would have been perfect.”

Max put his glass down on the table. “Want to go downstairs and celebrate some more?”

Tasha smiled as he slipped his arms around her, this time holding her glass out of the way as they embraced. “What did you have in mind?”

She shivered as he began to nuzzle and kiss her throat and groaned out loud when his hand moved to her breast and his thumb found her nipple.