“Need some help in here?” Standing in the entryway to your kitchen your husband’s friend, Carlos, cradled a bottle of beer. The smallest of smiles graced his lips, watching you work so intently on getting all the snacks and appetizers just right for the dinner party you were hosting.

“You look pretty worked up, I think you need some help.” Carlos murmured suggestively, taking a few steps closer so he could wrap his arm around your waist firmly, his lips hovering over your nape.