My Wife's Best Friend Road Trip

The interstate stretched ahead in a shimmer of late-afternoon heat, the rental sedan humming beneath them like a held breath. Elena kept both hands on the wheel at ten and two, the way she always did when she needed something solid to grip. Beside her, Tessa had kicked off her sandals and propped bare feet on the dash, toes painted a wicked coral that matched the thin straps of her sundress. The fabric had ridden high on her thighs; every time the car hit a seam in the asphalt those thighs shifted, soft and freckled, and Elena’s gaze snagged before she forced it back to the road.

“You’re quiet,” Tessa said, voice low and amused. She twisted in the passenger seat so her shoulder pressed the leather, studying Elena with open hunger. “Usually by now you’d be lecturing me about gas mileage or the proper way to pack a cooler. Instead you’re white-knuckling the steering wheel like it might run away.”

Elena’s laugh came out thinner than she meant. “Just concentrating. Long drive.”

“Uh-huh.” Tessa reached over and traced a single fingernail down the outside of Elena’s bare arm, from the edge of her sleeveless blouse to the delicate bone of her wrist. The touch was light, almost idle, but it left a trail of goosebumps that made Elena’s nipples tighten against the thin cotton of her bra. “Or maybe you’re thinking about the fact that Sarah’s stuck in Chicago for three whole days, and it’s just you and me and a cabin that looks out over nothing but ocean. No interruptions. No polite excuses to go to separate rooms.”

Sarah. Elena’s wife. The woman who had kissed her goodbye that morning with a distracted peck and an apology about the emergency client call, who had then shoved Tessa’s overnight bag into the trunk and told them both to have fun, drink wine, don’t burn the place down. Sarah, who had known Tessa since college, who laughed whenever Tessa flirted with Elena at dinner parties and said, “She’s harmless, babe. She flirts with everyone.”

But Tessa had never looked at anyone the way she was looking at Elena right now.

Elena swallowed. The air-conditioning whispered across her collarbones; she could feel the heat of Tessa’s stare like a second sun. “We’ve always joked around. That’s all it is.”

“Is it?” Tessa’s fingers stayed on Elena’s wrist, circling the pulse point. “Because I’ve watched you for two years, El. The way your eyes linger when I stretch after yoga. The way you blush when I tell you your ass looks fucking criminal in those jeans. Sarah thinks it’s cute. I think you’ve been dying to know what it would feel like if I stopped teasing and just… took.”

Elena’s thighs pressed together of their own accord. She could smell Tessa’s sunscreen—coconut and something sharper, like salt—and underneath it the warm animal scent of skin. The confined space of the car suddenly felt smaller, the leather seats sticky against the backs of her knees. She had worn a simple linen skirt that ended mid-thigh; she regretted it now, because every shift of her legs made the fabric whisper higher.

“I’m married,” she said, but the words lacked conviction even to her own ears.

“I know.” Tessa’s smile was slow, wicked. “Married and curious. There’s a difference. I’ve seen the way you look at my mouth when I talk. Like you’re wondering how it would feel between your legs.”

Elena’s breath hitched. A truck roared past in the left lane; she barely noticed. In her mind she was already somewhere else—Tessa’s mouth, wet and open, the wet drag of a tongue that wasn’t Sarah’s. Guilt fluttered, hot and useless. Sarah had given them this weekend. Sarah trusted them. And still Elena’s clit pulsed once, hard, against the seam of her panties.

Tessa leaned closer. The sundress gaped; Elena caught a flash of bare breast, the dark circle of an areola, no bra. Of course no bra. Tessa never wore one when she didn’t have to. “Pull over at the next rest stop,” Tessa murmured. “I want to stretch my legs. And I want you to watch me do it.”

Elena’s knuckles went bloodless on the wheel. “Tessa—”

“I’m not going to jump you in a parking lot. Not yet.” A soft laugh. “I just want you to look. Really look. And then I want you to tell me, honestly, whether the idea of three nights alone with me makes you wet.”

The exit sign appeared like a dare. Elena took it. Gravel crunched under the tires as she rolled into the nearly empty rest area, parked beneath a scraggly pine. The engine ticked as it cooled. Outside, cicadas screamed in the heat. Inside, the silence thickened until Elena could hear her own heartbeat in her ears.

Tessa opened her door and stepped out, stretching luxuriously, arms overhead. The sundress lifted with the motion, baring the undersides of her ass—smooth, pale, the shadow of a thong disappearing between cheeks that flexed when she rose onto her toes. She turned, catching Elena still seated, staring through the open passenger door.