Free Control by Kayla Perrin Page B

hide what I was researching, but then decided not to. Having been judged his entire life for being gay, Spike was the last person in the world who would judge me for what I was considering doing. In fact, he’d probably get a kick out of it.
    Besides, I needed to share my erotic plan with somebody.
    “Take a look,” I said.
    He lowered his travel coffee mug and glanced at the computer screen. “Is that what I think it is?”
    “Yep, it’s a pole.”
    “You planning to open a strip club, doll-face?” he quipped.
    “No.” I sipped my coffee. “But I thought it would be fun to use one…to spice things up in the bedroom.”
    Spike’s eyes grew wide. “You trying to give your husband a heart attack?” As soon as he asked the question, he realized his error in judgment. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
    “Robert didn’t have a heart attack. I think his heart is stronger than most men half his age. It’s his cock I want to work on.”
    “Girl…you are gonna hurt that man.”
    “You know how things get stale in a relationship sometimes,” I said. “You fall into a routine. Or a rut—whatever you want to call it.”
    “No.”
    “All right, Casanova. You may not know personally,but you know what I’m saying. Sex can get…boring. And when your husband is nearly seventy, it’s hard to…”
    “Keep it hard?” Spike suggested. “Oops. Did I say that?”
    I gave him a look of mock reproach. “I want a baby,” I said after a moment. “I’m ready. I’m more than ready. And yet it’s not happening. I figure if I can add some excitement, maybe that’ll lead to us having the kind of sex we used to before.” Like we’d had that time in Paris when he’d smothered my body in chocolate. “And if we can let go and do that, maybe that’ll help us conceive.”
    “Or you could find someone your own age. Someone who won’t be dead as you raise your kids.”
    It wasn’t the first time he’d casually suggested that I should leave my husband. We’d also had a couple of heart-to-hearts regarding my marriage. Spike, who was completely motivated by sex, didn’t understand what the attraction was to a much older man.
    “There are no guarantees in life,” I told him. “Just ask Sharon.”
    “Touché.”
    “So here’s what I was thinking,” I went on. “Pole dancing is all the rage these days. Bachelor parties, divorce parties.”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “You can rent them for whatever function you want. So I’m thinking that I’ll rent one, have it put in our bedroom. And then I’ll put on a very special show for Robert.”
    “You know how to work a pole?” Spike asked.
    “Not really. But I could figure it out.”
    “Why don’t you go to a strip club?” Spike suggested. “Learn from the pros how it’s done.”
    “Ooh.” I nodded slowly. “I like that idea!”
    He rolled his eyes. “I was kidding. ”
    “But it’s brilliant!” I knew nothing about strippers except what I’d seen in movies, and I had hardly been adventurous when it came to sex. I was ready to change all that. “And you could come with me.”
    Spike snorted—and damn near spit out his mouthful of coffee. “You want me to go to a strip club—the kind where women take their clothes off?”
    “I’m not going alone.”
    “Girl, you’re not serious.”
    “You would only be going with me so I don’t feel uncomfortable. You don’t have to watch if you don’t want to.”
    “You’ve lost your mind.”
    “Think about it. It’ll be fun. And for me it’ll be a different experience. Maybe help loosen me up, too.”
    “You tryin’ to unleash your inner ho or something?”
    “Or something,” I said, smiling wickedly. “Robert used to tell me that he went to strip clubs for ‘business’ meetings. Some out-of-town clients liked to be entertained that way. And I’m not stupid—I’m sure he enjoyed looking. I used to tease him that I wasn’t enough for him…but I think this will be a fun way to turn the