In Too Deep, Book 2, Part 1

 [image: VitalikRadko]

The moment you've all been waiting for—book two of Amanda and Davi'd adventure. If you haven't read it already, please go back and start from the beginning. This will make little to no sense.

Chapter 10: Setting Expectations

Amanda and I started dating towards the end of our first year in law school, although I had a crush on her long before that. It wasn’t just that she was this smart, confident hot chick. Even in law school, most of us were still figuring out how to be adults. Not Amanda. She always seemed to have everything already figured out.

As far as I could tell, she didn’t date. She shut Ty down pretty hard early on, and the three of us fell into a comfortable friendship. She was just one of the boys. Ty speculated that she was a lesbian, but I didn’t think so. She was just driven. School came first.

I didn’t want to mess up the friendship we had. It also took the pressure off, thinking that we would forever remain friends. I saw a few girls here and there, but nothing had the same spark. Honestly, I was just comparing each of them to Amanda.

Then, in the spring semester, after one of these totally failed dates, I was out at a bar, commiserating with Amanda. Ty wasn’t around, off banging someone new, no doubt. We were drinking. I remember telling her how I wasn’t sure what I was looking for in a relationship, but I hadn’t found it yet.

Amanda listened and commiserated, but seemed reserved. Later, I’d learn that she was jealous, hated that she was jealous, and was doing her best to keep those emotions in check.

“You’re a great guy, David,” she said. “Have patience. You’ll find her.”

“How about you?” I’d meant it to mean, Who are you looking for? or Who are you seeing? Amanda interpreted differently.

She studied me with those amazing blue eyes, cocked her head to the side, and said, “Are you asking me out?”

I immediately understood the confusion, and if I was a little more sober, I would have set the record straight. Instead, I said, “If I was, would you say yes?”

I still think of that smile to this day. For one moment, her always-in-control demeanor fell away, giving me a glimpse of the girl beneath. “I’d give you a chance, sure.”

We dated through the next year, then moved to DC for our Department of Justice internships. We moved into a small one-bedroom up in Adams Morgan and commuted to work together. It was during this time that I realized that law enforcement wasn’t for me. 

Amanda never wavered, though. She knew exactly what she wanted to do. After the internship, she got accepted into the FBI while I went to work for a private firm doing governmental contract law. It was convenient. Quantico wasn’t far away. We found a new place over the river, in Virginia, halfway between Quantico and my office. It was larger, in the suburbs. We had a balcony that looked out over trees, and it felt like we were making a home.

To celebrate, and still living out of boxes, we went out to dinner at an upscale restaurant near our new apartment. The waiting list was 45 minutes, but we weren’t in a rush and went to the bar to wait. 

We ordered expensive cocktails that went quickly to our heads. I got up and went to the bathroom, and when I returned, some guy was hitting on Amanda. 

Amanda was gorgeous, even when she tried to downplay it. Lean and tall, with dark hair, light eyes, and pale, smooth skin, she didn’t need makeup or tight dresses to be noticed. Her confidence more than made up for it, and I was used to seeing her draw the attention of men everywhere she went. This wasn’t the first time I’d watched someone hit on her. Hell, there was a time, back before we’d started dating, where I’d had to watch Ty flirt with her all the time. I’d learned to cope.

Only that night felt different. Amanda wasn’t downplaying anything. We were celebrating, so she’d put on a short sundress and makeup and looked breathtaking.

The jealousy that rose through me was like an ache, tightening deep in my gut. The man was good looking in a way that suited her—older than us, but fit and confident. Where I still felt like a boy, even at 26 and working as a lawyer, this guy was an adult, and as he stood there beside Amanda in her dress, they just looked right. 

She was shaking her head at whatever he was saying, her posture far from receptive. She wasn’t one of those naive women who didn’t notice when a man hit on her. 

Despair descended on me. How could I compete with this? If she wasn’t with me, she’d be here, in that dress, flirting with that man. They’d banter, as they were doing now, but they both knew where it was headed. They’d discuss whose place was closer—hers, since it was just around the block. They’d settle the tab, leave together, making out in doorways, his hands all over her body, and she wouldn’t stop him. In the apartment, her dress would come off, his shirt would open. Their kisses would be more passionate, their groping hands more direct. He’d slide a hand into her panties, finding her so wet. He’d kiss her neck, just the way she likes it, as he fingered her and she moaned and—

“David?”

And Amanda was there before me. The man was gone. She didn’t look guilty, although I wanted her to. She didn’t stammer to explain who the guy was, and when I looked, I found him chatting with his friends, I assumed. They didn’t pay Amanda any mind.

“Hey. Sorry, zoned out there.”

“Our table’s ready,” she said, a crease forming between her brows. “You okay?”

Yes, now that you’re here. No, because one day you’ll leave me. I don’t know! “I’m good,” I said. “Hungry though.”

Amanda smiled, putting her hands around my arm. “Me too. Come on, let’s eat.”

We did just that. We talked about her basic field training schedule and what she’d have to do. She was nervous, despite her time in Afghanistan and how her whole life had been building to this moment, and her nervousness reminded me that she was still a girl, just like I was a boy. She could be vulnerable, but would only show that side to the people she was closest with.

We talked about my job, although I was less excited by it. We talked about the new neighborhood, and how there was so much to explore, and how we’d explore it together.

As we talked, I saw a future with her. More than that, I couldn’t imagine one without her. That’s why, somewhere between the main course and our dessert menus arriving, I did something incredibly impulsive. 

Overcome with emotion, I took her hands in mine, admiring her long, slender fingers, already slightly callused from all the hours she spent in the gym and at the shooting range. She wasn’t wearing any nail polish, but then she never did. My pulse thudded between my ears. My heart was going crazy. I had to force myself to look up from her hands to meet her eyes—those large, expressive blue eyes. Her dark hair was loose that night, and shorter back then than it was now, curling in around her pointed chin.

“Will you marry me?” I said before I lost my nerve. No question in my life had felt so right. I still wasn’t sure what I wanted to do, career-wise. I didn’t know where I wanted to live. I didn’t know if I wanted a family or not. But I knew one thing: I wanted to marry Amanda.

Her eyes shimmered. There were very few times in our lives when I’d seen Amanda overcome with emotion—when we’d graduated from Columbia, seeing her father break down when we’d all gone to leave flowers at her mother’s grave, getting offered a job with the FBI. 

“Oh, David…” She turned her hands in mine, squeezing them right back. 

I wasn’t expecting anything sappy. Amanda wasn't romantic, and I never thought that she’d start crying and shouting, ‘Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!’

But I also wasn’t expecting what she did say. I wasn’t expecting the frown that tugged at the edges of her mouth, or the deepening crease between those knitted brows. My heart sank.

“Can I think about it?” she eventually asked. She knew it was the wrong way to answer a marriage proposal, but it seemed to be the only one that she could give. 

I tried to play it off, of course. “Sure, of course,” I said, even as I felt my insides crumbling. Had I read the situation all wrong? We’d been together for two years. We were living together. We were happy. 

I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Instead, the dessert menus arrived and I ordered the key lime pie.

Some would say, in hindsight, that this was a sign of a future to come. That when she did eventually go undercover as a stripper, I should have looked back on this lack of commitment and not been surprised when she didn’t put me first.

But like so many things in life, it wasn’t that straightforward.

***

“Uh! Uh! Uhhh!” I grunted with each thrust, fucking her like I had something to prove. I had one leg up over my shoulder, opening her up wide as I thrust deep. My abs and butt burned. My balls swung full and ready to burst.

“Oh, David!” Amanda gasped beneath me. “David!”

She said my name, but her eyes were closed. Was she thinking of the guy earlier in the bar? Behind those tightly shut eyes, was she fantasizing about a handsome stranger taking her to new and exciting heights? It only made me fuck her harder, faster.

“Ah! Ah!” she moaned.

My imagination took over, twisting my earlier daydream. This time, we were at the bar, only Amanda wasn’t single. I’d asked her to marry me, and instead, this guy came over, put a hand on her shoulder, and smirked at me. They didn’t say anything. They just got up and left together. The rest played out much the same as before—kissing in doorways, fingering her just inside the apartment. They’d tumble into bed and he’d go down on her, burying his face in her trimmed bush.

“Ngh! Uhn!” Amanda’s gasps rose higher and higher. I fucked still harder, more muscles burning, my breathing ragged and desperate.

The nightmarish fantasy continued. The man would climb over Amanda, naked now, his cock substantial. ‘Yes,’ she’d hiss. ‘Do it.’ Nothing more was said. He’d ram home, and she’d cry out—

“Oh! Ohhh!”

And she’d come hard as she felt a real man fill her.

“Come!” she cried.

I gasped. Suddenly I was back in the moment. The man was gone, and it was me fucking into Amanda, my left hand laced in Amanda’s right, her body slick and alive beneath me.

“David,” she moaned. Her voice was husky. “David, come… please…”

I didn’t wilt. I didn’t soften. If anything, thinking of that other man, that imagined rival, set me ablaze. I rutted, pounding into her as I barreled towards my own climax. It was like this was the last time I’d fuck her. It was like, now that she’d rejected my proposal, we were on borrowed time. Tomorrow, we’d go our separate ways, but I wanted her to remember tonight.

“I’m… I’m…” I couldn’t even form the words. “Uhhh!” I groaned, my balls swelling, my cock starting to pulse as I blasted deep into her. She seemed to come again, rocking her body up against me, head back, chest forward. She cried out, throaty and raw, only sound, no meaning.

I collapsed onto her. She disentangled from me, reclaiming the leg that was over her shoulder. I rolled onto my side, and she shifted until she was facing me. Suddenly, I wished that I’d rolled the other way, so I didn’t have to face the shame of her rejection.

“That was vigorous,” she said with a contented smile.

I didn’t smile back. I was already disengaging, thinking about what came next—all those messy logistics. Who would keep the apartment? How would we split up the silverware?

“David, we need to talk.”

The dreaded words. I wanted to die. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that. I just kind of got caught up in the night. In everything.”

Amanda touched my face, her hand soft and loving. “That’s what I love about you, honey. I love your impulsiveness. I wish I could be more like that sometimes. I’m trying to be better, but it’s hard.”

I nodded. She was as Type A as it got. Everything was planned. Everything was carefully considered before it was done.

She went on. “When you asked me to marry you, you know what my first thought was?”

I had no idea, and I wasn’t sure that I wanted to know.

“I thought: how would having a husband get in the way of my career? And then I hated myself for thinking that. You don’t deserve someone who thinks that.”

“You’re ambitious. I get that—”

“It’s not just that. It’s not just ambition. I never told you why I’ve wanted to be FBI. I never told you about my mom, and how she died.”

That was true. Amanda kept a lot of her past guarded. I knew that she was an only child, and that she’d lost her mom when she was just fourteen. She was raised by her dad, a cop, and he never remarried. I always figured that she got into law enforcement because of her dad.

She took a deep breath. “When I was fourteen, my mom was murdered. She was a journalist, and was working on this story about a local crime spree when she was killed. The police believed it was a robbery gone wrong, but my dad never believed it. Everyone else just wanted the case closed. It… broke Dad. He was never the same after that. I vowed that I’d never let something like that happen on my watch. That I’d go into law enforcement and make things right.”

A lot of things fell into place as I listened. I caught a glimpse of what drove her, but also, for the first time, saw that this woman, who I was so deeply in love with and who always seemed right about everything, could be wrong.

“You don’t need to choose,” I said. “You know that you can have both things. You’re an amazing person. Don’t shut yourself off to being happy.”

“Oh, David…” The emotion was back in her eyes. Her lower lip quivered. “I love you so much. I’m sorry… about earlier—”

“Don’t apologize. I get it. I do. It was too early—”

“No, it’s not. I can’t imagine a better man than you. I can’t imagine a future that doesn’t have you in it. I’m just scared. I’m scared of hurting you. I’m scared of wrecking what we have. I’m scared of losing myself in the job and cutting you off from the happiness that you deserve, and—”

“And you don’t have to worry about that,” I said. “I’m going into this with my eyes open.”

For the first time in our dating life, they were open. I saw all the anxiety that she carried around with her. I could see her insecurity.

“I love you, Amanda. I accept you. I don’t want you to change. I’m not asking you to choose me over your career.”

“But one day, you may regret that,” she said.

“Maybe. But I’m willing to take that risk. Let me take that risk. I just want to share my life with you, bumps and all. And we’ll figure it out together.”

Amanda took a long, deep breath. She reached for me, pulling me in for a tight embrace. She was crying, sniffling into my shoulder. I’d never seen her actually cry, yet here she was, the tears streaming down her cheeks, her lip quivering—crying because I’d asked her to marry me. Not how I’d anticipated that night to go.

“We don’t have to talk about it anymore—” I began, but Amanda pulled back and stopped me.

She was smiling. Her tears weren’t ones of sadness or regret. “Yes,” she said.

“What?”

“Yes, I’ll marry you.”

It was like hearing a choir of angels. I went from the depths of despair to being lifted up to the heavens. Tears sprang to my own eyes. “Really?”

Amanda had gotten herself under control. She wiped her tears away and fixed her eyes on me. “Really, if you’re really sure.”

“I will always support you, Amanda. I will always be there for you.”

“You know what?” She sniffled and laughed all at once. “I believe you. That’s what scares me.”

“Don’t be scared.” I smiled, kissing her lips. “Like I said, you can be happy…”

***

Three years later, I sat before my computer, having just watched my wife give a POV blowjob to some stranger on video, and I thought back to our history. Amanda had warned me, and I’d gone into our future knowing that one day, she might choose her career over us. At the time, I’d told her that she could have both. I’d told her that I’d be there for her, that I’d support her. Did I still believe that now?

I wasn’t so sure anymore. I wasn’t sure about anything anymore.

Chapter 11: Our Roles

‘Did you send this, Julia?’ I responded to the email, pounding at the keyboard like I wanted to punish it. Frustratingly, after sending it, I got no immediate response despite obsessively refreshing my email. After a half hour of that—and with my come cold and uncomfortable in my pants—I told the office that I was feeling sick and went home.

Unfortunately, home didn’t set my nerves at ease. Free from any distraction at all, I was left alone with all the drama and insecurity. I picked a six-pack up and polished it off well before dinner time. I should have deleted that email and the link that came with it. Instead, I loaded up the video and watched it again and again, jerking off to the sight of Amanda dancing for the guy, stripping for him, fucking him with her tits and mouth. Was she fucking him now, in real life?

It was so shameful. If Amanda knew that I’d started thinking of her as anything less than the ass-kicking, name-taking Federal agent that she was, she’d have been so disappointed in me. I could almost see her downturned mouth and the slight shake of her head.

And what right did she have, judging me? She was the one doing it. She was the one who’d crossed that line without me.

A line that she’d warned me she could one day cross, the other voice in my head reminded me. Maybe not specifically sex, but the sex was part of this particular job—just another aspect. Ty had told me that it was Raven doing this. It was her persona. It was her alias. She would come back to me when this was over, he said, and she would still be Amanda. Did I really believe it?

I wasn’t going to the Gold Club. Not again. Not for the third time. I had all kinds of problems, but I wasn’t going to do anything to put the woman that I loved in any more danger.

‘Just tell me that she’s safe. Please.’ I wrote back to the mysterious sender, whoever it was. I just wanted to know. I half-expected it to bounce, and definitely not expecting a reply. One came. Almost immediately.

‘Do you want to see more?’

Ka-thunk. It was a very good question, one that I mulled over for a long time before answering. Did I want to see more? Yes, no, maybe? I didn’t know, other than that I shouldn’t want to see more. 

“Yes,” I wrote back, and clicked send before I could come to my senses and delete the email. Of course I wanted to see more, yet after I replied, I was filled with regret. I swooned in my chair, dizzy and sick to my stomach. I wanted to take it back, but it was too late for that. Instead, I sat there, refreshing my browser and waiting for a response. None came.

It was probably a trap. Could it have been Julia sending this? Of course, but this kind of footage just as easily could have been from the bad guys, the organization behind the Gold Club. My heart seized up at the thought of that. If they’d sent it, then I’d just given them the partial name of one of the agents investigating them. Hell, I’d just tipped them off that they were being investigated at all!

I laid my head on the table and ran my fingers through my hair. “How much more can you fuck this up, David?” I asked myself. I was too drunk and confused and tired to answer that, or make any sense out of the rest of it. The nights of terrible sleep caught up to me, and I fell asleep, my dreams were troubled and sexual, filled with snippets and flashes of Raven in her element, doing her thing, enjoying it.

I woke before my alarm, reaching for my phone before the blur of sleep had cleared my eyes. I checked my emails again. Other than some junk mail, the inbox was empty, which made me feel empty, too. 

My cock, erect with morning wood, hurt from all the jerking off I’d done yesterday, and a hangover reverberated through my skull.

“You’re a fucking moron,” I groaned. I wished that I could skip work, but the prospect of another day at home, alone with my thoughts and that video, was enough motivation to get me into the shower.

Work sucked, but it was quiet enough. There was a lot of paperwork to clean up with the new account Brandon Cruise had landed us. The man was good at reeling them in, but he was piss poor when it came to the details. I liked the details. It’s why I was drawn to law, rather than law enforcement. I was the kid who enjoyed board games just to read the rules—hell, I was still that kid.

I did keep checking my email, though, waiting for some response. I was tempted to email again, but I was already in too deep here. I needed to stop, and a part of me half-hoped that maybe I’d never get a response—that maybe my shameful reply had been lost in delivery.

I went home. I watched the blowjob video yet again. I couldn’t help myself. It’s not every day that you get a video of your wife in her own, personal porn film. I looked for some sign of unease or reluctance and didn’t find any.

That made me uneasy for an entirely different set of reasons. Maybe I had her all wrong. She’d told Ty not to tell me about their tryst. Were there others? It kept me up late. It ate at me. Did Amanda ever cheat on me?

I had to call Ty.

“What?” He sounded groggy, and it was only then that I realized how late it was.

“Ty, you said she fucked you before me. Did you do it while we were together?”

“Man, hello to you, too, David. And no. Fuck no. Amanda?”

“I won’t hold it against you. Just… I need to know the truth.”

“And I’m telling you, we only did it the one time. We were drunk. She was upset. I took advantage and I’m an asshole for it.”

“Did she… how was she?” Something stirred inside of me at the question.

“Are you asking me how good the sex was with your wife?”

“I’m asking you how into it she was.”

“Fuck, man, it was a while ago. She liked it, I guess.”

“You guess.”

He groaned. “Fine. She was into it. A total animal, really. For so long, I was so fucking jealous of you, but when I asked for a repeat, she practically dislocated my jaw.”

“I thought you touched her ass.”

“Well, I did that, too.” He chuckled. “Now what’s this all about?”

“Just trying to make sense of some things.”

“Everything okay? Did something happen?”

I thought about just telling him everything, right then and there. I needed some help. I was adrift, and Ty seemed like a good enough Island as any.

“Everything’s just peachy. Beer soon?”

“I never turn down beer.”

***

When I stepped outside of our house the following morning, it was sitting there idling on the street—a BMW X3. Julia was here. Of course she was behind this. Of course she sent the video.

A Lyft light was on in the back. I chuckled at that as I climbed in. “Never been in a BMW Lyft. This must be the super premium tier.”

Julia was behind the wheel, wearing dark sunglasses, her hair tucked up under a black baseball hat. “Hey, stranger.”

“Thought you never wanted to see me again,” I said.

“The situation is fluid.” She shrugged. “I’m sure you get it.”

I pulled the door shut. “You sent the video.”

“You liked it, didn’t you?” she shot back. There was a knowing smile beneath her sunglasses.

My face went hot. “No, don’t be—”

“I know how many times you watched it, David. Don’t worry, I don’t judge.”

I had no words. My shame was crushing. Even the tease of the hot blonde masturbating didn’t snap me out of it.

Julia moved on. “You’ve caused quite a snag, David.” The car drove. I didn’t pay attention to where. I didn’t know what to pay attention to. Never in my life had I felt like such a passenger. “You know, when your wife joined our team, I had my doubts. We all did. To me, Amanda always seemed pretty uptight. She’s a smart gal, don’t get me wrong, and on paper, she seems perfect, what with the degree and the military history and her stint in narco. But going undercover takes a toll, and not just anyone can handle it. You need to be able to bend, you know? Requires a certain moral flexibility. Amanda…” Julia shook her head. “...she didn’t strike me as the type.”

She didn’t strike me as the type, either, now that I knew what a UC stint could entail.

“Plus, there was the issue of you,” Julia continued. “You were baggage. You tied her back to that version of herself that always played by the rules. Would she be able to do what needed to be done?”

What needed to be done? I wanted to ask, but my tongue was tied.

“But she surprised the hell out of me. It was a little rickety there at first, but she got in and got close. We got so fucking close. And then you showed up that first time at the club and the wheels began to come off.”

“What do you mean?”

“The baggage was back, David. All of a sudden, ‘Raven’ started to have an identity crisis. You know how hard it is to seduce a man when you’ve got guilt riding you?”

“Seduce…?”

Julia ignored me. “Hirsch started to get worried.” Hirsch, the agent in charge of the whole investigation. “He ordered her to go home to see you. I thought that was a terrible idea, but I was overruled. Her cover was already compromised. She needed to check on you, to get her head straight. It sort of worked until you fucking went back. This time, she actually saw you, and it became harder for her to maintain her cover. Wasn’t good, man.”

The car had slowed down. We were pulling into the garage of a high rise luxury apartment complex. “Where are we?”

Again, Julia blew past me like I hadn’t spoken. “But don’t worry, I think I’ve got a solution, in no small part thanks to you, David.”

She pulled into a parking space. Now I knew Julia was FBI. She wasn’t a threat to me. Even still, as she parked the car, the lizard part of my brain started to panic. What if she was, like, some kind of double agent? What if I was being kidnapped to be held as collateral?

Julia turned to me. “Your task is simple, yet your wife’s life may depend on it.”

“Way to lay out the stakes.”

“The people your wife is mixed up with don’t mess around, David. We can’t afford to, either.”

I nodded. “What can I do?”

“You know what a hotwife is?” Julia asked.

“Like, an attractive married woman?”

“That’s a no,” she said. “A ‘hotwife’ is a married woman who has sex with other men with her husband’s approval. Her husband gets off on it.” She looked at me significantly. “Remind you of anyone?”

I was already shaking my head. “No, that’s not me.”

“Remember, I know how many times you watched that video.”

Shame washed through me, hot and sticky. “I never gave her approval,” I said lamely.

“Hmm, yes, that’s a good point,” Julia acknowledged, although she seemed ready for it. “Makes you more of a cuckold, then.”

That stung but before I could defend myself, Julia had moved on.

“Point remains, though, that her actions turn you on.”

“No! They don’t. I… hate… it makes me…”

“Angry? Upset? Angsty? It’s all part of the fetish. Sure, you’re pissed off at her. Maybe you hate her? But you also jerked off watching her blow that guy, right? Tell me I’m wrong.”

My face was bright red. “She betrayed me.”

“And a part of you is into it, David. And right now, I need you to embrace that. It’s important. Set aside the anger and any impulses you may have to lash out and burn her up, or whatever. At least until this case is over. What’s important, right now, is that she believes you not only support her, but are turned on by what she’s doing.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“But you can, David. You already are doing it. Do what she does best. Compartmentalize all those angsty feelings and let everything else loose. She needs you to do that for her, right now. That is your role. You’re the hotwife husband.”

The discussion was over, as far as Julia was concerned. She got out of the car and instructed me to follow.

I didn’t bother asking where we were going again. No point. I followed her towards the elevators, which we took to the thirtieth floor. I wasn’t a ‘hotwife husband’, right? I may have been a cuckold, but not a willing one.

The door-lined hall had the sterile feel of a hotel, like every room promised some identical form of corporate housing.

Made it all the more surprising when Julia unlocked the door to room 3024 to… a normal apartment. It was clean, but everywhere were signs of life—candid shots of people having fun lined the table at the entrance; a woman’s pair of boots were kicked off by the door; an empty glass sat on the coffee table amidst open mail and thumbed through fashion magazines.

It was the familiar scent that filled the apartment that gave her away. I’d recognize Amanda anywhere—not a perfume or a shampoo, but just… her. This was where Amanda lived. This was where she’d been staying these past few months. This was Raven’s home.

I looked at Julia as soon as I realized. “Is she here?”

“Yes.” It wasn’t Julia speaking. My breath caught in my chest. I turned as Amanda said, “I’m here.”

Part 2 will be out on Friday, June 28.