Summer Swap 3: Scarlet and Philippe and Sullivan

SUMMER SWAP 3 SCARLET AND PHILIPPE AND SULLIVAN KT MORRISON CONTENTS About the Author More Books Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Afterword ABOUT THE AUTHOR KT Morrison writes stories about women who fall in love with sexy men who aren’t their husband, and loving relationships that go too far—couples who open a mysterious door, then struggle to get it closed as trouble pushes through the threshold. Visit My Website! ktmorrison.com MORE BOOKS ONGOING SERIES Landlord The Cayman Proxy Separate Schools Keely Devil In The Waters EPIC NOVELS Cherry Blossoms Maggie Learning Lessons Happy Endings Chelsea Hates Libby NOVELS Going A Little Too Far (free on my website) Pool Party Après Ski Rachel’s Truth High Stakes Sadie NOVELLAS Watching Natalie Cheat Watching Natalie Again Inconceivable Mary’s Pledge One Night Only (by Becky Haze) A Week On The Big Snake (by Allie Castro) Amazing Grace Two Days In Malta One Of The Gang This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental. All characters are over the age of eighteen. SUMMER SWAP 3 A Hotwife Swinger Novella 35,000 words First Edition. January 27, 2023 Copyright © 2023 KT Morrison Written by KT Morrison Cover by KT Morrison CHAPTER 1 From this towering height, the lifesaver looked like its candy counterpart, a small black ring floating almost dead center in a glowing turquoise rectangle; a targeting reticle in his proverbial night-vision scope. One o’clock in the morning, sunburned and beer-happy after a wonderful day on the yacht, Byron had one goal on mind: toss the volleyball from the rear hand-railing on the sixth deck and land it dead center inside the lifesaver floating on the surface of the fourth deck’s swimming pool. Not exactly easy-peasy. More like a million-to-one. “Double or nothing, Byron,” Sully reminded him. Taunted him more accurately. “Your terms, buddy.” “I know,” Byron growled, trying to center his mind. He tossed the volleyball up and caught it, doing it over and over, spinning it against the pads of his fingertips, and poking out his tongue like he was Michael Jordan at a penalty throw. Today had been wild. In the aftermath of the thing they’d done together last night, he’d had no idea how the morning would be. He and Chey had woken in Cody and Carla’s bed, and even though he’d watched his wife have crazy role-playing sex with Cody in front of their friends Sully and Scarlet, everything seemed . . . okay. Like after the act was done, all the worry and angst leading up to it had no reason to exist anymore. It was done. It was done, it was fun, and the integrity of the relationship with his wife remained intact. More than intact, more like grown stronger with the scarring and healing of a weak spot. The way a healed broken leg might be stronger than before it was broken. “Here he is, folks,” Sully said in a low whisper like he was a golf announcer, “just about the worst three-point shooter they have on their team, up against what will prove to be—” Byron shushed him and Sully snorted. Somewhere behind him, Scarlet giggled. Scarlet and Sully had watched Cheyenne have sex with Cody. Had participated, too, in their own ways. And yet, this morning, no one was shame-faced or regretful, or had shown him a look of derision. Not that he deserved one—it was a gift he’d given Cheyenne, and had enjoyed himself as well—but there was a lingering grime of humiliation that might take a little while to scrub clean. The kindness of his friends surprised him. When Byron still hadn’t made his shot, Sully resumed his quiet narration: “You can see Byron is taking his time on this shot. He’s got a lot riding on this. Sullivan and Scarlet had beat him four hands on Hearts, and Byron, in an outrageous bid to avoid downing four shots of tequila, decided to throw down the famous double or nothing challenge, and here we are—” Byron jumped to his toes and tossed the ball. It arced high and outward, and Sully leapt forward to the hand-railing, leaning over to watch it descend. Philippe was laughing with Arlo about something unrelated. Cody swigged his beer. The girls were gossiping. They were going to miss his incredible victory. Sully hissed with furious anger. “Shit! It went in. It fucking went in.” Byron was sure it didn’t. Cody went to the railing and looked over. “It’s not in, dude.” Sully said, “It went in and bounced out. You son of a bitch, Byron.” The ball did not go in and then bounce out. The ball didn’t go in at all, but there was some new attraction to jeopardy that Sully couldn’t deny. He felt alive standing in the dark near the top deck of the yacht, hands on the railing, smile on his face and that wonderful lie still on his tongue. With the claim that Byron’s ball had landed inside the lifesaver, he’d submitted his fate to a newfound partner in crime. Byron Bishop was a man he now knew to be as devious and degenerate as he was. Carla shook her head, frowning with an expression of doubt. “I swear that didn’t go in.” Sully pushed back from the railing and threw his hands up in surrender. “Why would I lie about losing? I told you, I saw it go in.” Carla put her hands up now, showing that she really didn’t give a shit either way. “Whatever, Sully. It’s your funeral.” Cheyenne said, “You heard her, Byron. It’s Sully’s funeral. What song are we going to play?” Scarlet said, “First, I don’t like the funeral talk. Second, we need to go back down to the lower deck because that’s where I left my drink.” Cheyenne knocked