A Cheated Heart – A Cheating Hotwife Story

Emma and Jake get into an argument during dinner, causing Jake to abruptly take leave. Alpha male Eli engages Emma with a drink.

An obvious mutual attraction begins, but will things soon escalate into an extramarital affair?

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I scoff. “Really? That’s what you’re going with? You left me. What if I would have died, Jake?”

“What if you would have listened!” he says, then stands up. “I need to cool off before I say something I don’t mean.” 

“You’re a pu**y,” I hiss as he walks away. His shoulders bunch, so I know he hears me. “A total pu**y that relied on another man to save me because you wouldn’t.” 

He storms out without looking back. 

I feel the eyes on us, but I don’t care. Not really. I can’t believe he left me there. He’s been the most reliable and stable person in my life. And now he’s left me alone for the second time in one day.

Then I think of the lifeguard. His chiseled features. He looked like a movie star in the making with those high cheek bones, that defined jaw, the hint of stubble on his face, his intense eyes and damp hair. He lifted me like I was nothing and he was so warm that I couldn’t help but cling to him. He lifted me, cradled me against him, made me feel small and safe. He took care of me while my husband watched. 

While my husband did nothing

My eyes water and I chug Jake’s champagne glass, then my own. I stare at the little drops as they pool at the bottom and grumble, “Here’s to a great five-year anniversary.” 

One where I’m thinking about another man instead of my husband. I sit there for a while, staring at my engagement ring, loving it, but questioning whether Jake is the man I thought I married. 

A full champagne glass appears in front of me with a large hand wrapped delicately around the stem, like the man knows he could break it, but is making an active effort not to. I try not to look over since I should be thinking about Jake, probably wallowing or planning an apology, but when my peripheral puts together the pieces of the lifeguard who saved me, I can’t seem to move. 

My belly bursts with butterflies that I haven’t felt since Jake and I got married. Nerves, anticipation, a dash of hope and something that gives those butterflies a little more energy – the fact that this is wrong. It’s wrong for him to approach me, it’s wrong for me to want him to be here. 

Slowly, I look over at him. He nods to it. “I think living another day is worth celebrating, don’t you?”

“Then I should be buying you a drink,” I whisper, staring up into those deep, dark blue eyes. “I’m Emma.” 

“Eli,” he answers, then looks around. “I didn’t want to bring it up, but that was quite a scene.” 

My face flushes red and I sink into my chair while accepting the drink. “So, it’s a pity drink.” 

“No. I meant what I said about celebrating. You’re alive and if you’re alive enough to argue, then that means the victory over the ocean is all yours,” he says with a perfect smile. Not too big, not too flashy, and definitely not laced with pity. “Can I sit?”

I nod. 

I expect him to sit across from me, but he slides into the booth and nods to the seat that’s already pulled out. “Just in case he comes back.” 

“He won’t. When he says he has to cool off, he means it,” I mumble. 

“You still need to eat and drink. You’ve had a hard day,” he says, then looks around. He doesn’t snap his fingers or raise his hand, he just locks eyes with a waitress, recommends the surf n’ turf, then orders it for both of us before ordering a stronger drink for us when I down my champagne like it’s water. “You want to vent?”

“You saved me once; you don’t have to do it again.”

He chuckles. “I recognize when a woman needs to talk, Emma. What’s going on with your boyfriend?”

“Husband,” I say softly. “It’s supposed to be our anniversary…” 

I tell him all about the incident’s start, how Jake went back to the store, then the argument as we eat. When I stop eating, Eli rubs my knee under the table, then takes his fork and feeds me while watching my mouth. 

I chew, swallow and look away. When his hand climbs on my thigh, I have to remind myself I’m a married woman. I am. I gently push his hand further down. Not off, but down. He massages my knee, not getting pissed, not taking the hint fully. It’s … different. 

“I get it.” 

“I was a bitch.” 

“I mean, the last comment was a low blow,” he says honestly, “but you’re supposed to be able to rely on your husband. He’s supposed to protect you, take care of you, treat you like the goddess you are, Emma. And trust me, you are a goddess.”

“You’re just flirting,” I grumble, still not hating it like I should. 

I really shouldn’t. I shouldn’t like that spark of trouble in his blue eyes. I shouldn’t like how he leans in closer like he can make this conversation private. Like I’m the only one in the restaurant he wants to listen to. And I know he is listening … and touching me … and memorizing the way my lips form to every word. It’s so hot. 

Honestly, it might just be him. I was hot when we were on the jet ski. I was hot when he was holding me, and I’m burning up now like I have a fever that’s making me stupid. My brain is melting to goo the more I stare into his eyes and I want to tear my clothes off so I can breathe, get some relief, something. 

All I’m wearing is a cotton sundress and it’s still too much. 

“I knew you were a goddess when I saw you reading on the beach. One of those smutty, hot books that you should be able to act out with your husband. And you were reading it with a straight face as though you were evaluating it, as if it was the highest literature. Then you dove into the water and I nearly forgot my job. There was only you, Emma,” he says, leaning forward. “Just like right now.”

“But … there’s a whole restaurant,” I murmur. 

“I only see you.” He slides his hand higher, his pinky teasing the seam of my panties on my hip. I swallow as he starts to follow the line while glancing between my lips and my eyes, leaning in closer. “I feel you. I understand you. A powerful woman who should never have to settle. You should be celebrated.” 

My breath catches in my throat. I’m not sure if it’s from the intensity of his comments or the way his fingers follow the thin lace of my panties all the way to my p**sy. He leans forward and kisses me softly. I have plenty of time to pull away, but I don’t. Then he kisses me deeper, groaning as he sucks my bottom lip.

“And you taste as divine as I knew you would,” he pants against my mouth before kissing me again. 

This time his tongue thrusts between my lips. The passion, the bold determination, his fingers rubbing my cl** and teasing my p**sy lips through my flimsy panties until I’m panting and licking across his tongue as he teases me with hungry, demanding kisses. All I can do is melt against him, welcome every stroke of his tongue and the matching curl of his fingers against my cl**

until my entire body is vibrating. 

He nibbles my bottom lip, then kisses and licks across my jaw until he gets to my ear. I shudder. It’s so sensitive and every graze of Eli’s teeth, his hot breath, the throaty sound he makes when he touches me and finds me wetter makes me feel more wanted, beautiful, and needy than I’ve felt in months. 

“Eli,” I whimper. 

I should tell him to stop. We’re surrounded by people, patrons and waitstaff. My husband is probably waiting for me, but the world shrinks around us. Sounds go fuzzy while I fight to keep my composure while Eli bites my earlobe hard. I gasp softly and grip the table. I can’t cum here. I shouldn’t be doing this at all, but cumming in public that’s so … 

Naughty, I think, even though I’m tempted to moan it. 

“We should go to my jeep for some privacy,” Eli says in my ear, rubbing his fingers over my cl** in a way that makes my thighs twitch, then spread wider. “Just us. No reason to hide.” 

“Well …”

“So, I can worship you the way you deserve, we can enjoy more than the food and drinks, and I can memorize the moans I inspire,” he pants against my neck before drawing back. 

God, I want to. I want to be reckless. I want to be pleased. I want something new and wild and ridiculous. He kisses me again, slowly, licking across my bottom lip like he can’t get enough. It’s either take it or let it slip away. 

And I know exactly what I want.

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