Chapter 1

It was an easy road to drive and Bradley Rogers, Brad to his family and friends, was relaxed and comfortable behind the wheel. The air-conditioner was flooding the vehicle's interior with cold air to keep the hot Texas afternoon at bay, the wheels were rumbling a steady rhythm on the macadam... and he was alone with his bride of only twelve months. He and Ashley were driving up to Dallas for a long awaited, and much anticipated, weekend alone.

His fingers barely touching the steering wheel, Brad guided the car through a long, sweeping curve and onto another section of impossibly straight highway. He couldn't even see where the next bend in the road might be. The horizon was hidden by a shimmering veil of rising heat waves coming off the hot pavement.

Leaving his left hand on the wheel, Brad extended his right to find and hold his wife's hands in his. They'd be hitting the big loop around the Dallas-Fort Worth metroplex in another hour or so. From there, it would be a short ride into Dallas and their hotel. It was Thursday. They'd have four whole days together with no worries and no responsibilities beyond their love for each other.

"Baby?" his wife asked softly, almost plaintively. Ashley's fingers tightened on her husband's apprehensively. She forced herself to relax.

"What, hun?" Brad replied. When her hand twitched, he tensed and automatically checked ahead and behind with quick glances through the windshield and rearview mirrors for anything that might be a threat. There was nothing there.

"Sugar... the hotel called," Ashley said hesitatingly. "They... it was about our reservation."

Brad's easy going expression faded to a frown. His grip on the steering wheel tightened.

"Damn!" he exclaimed. "Sorry," he apologized as quickly as the expletive was out of his mouth. He'd been trying to watch his language ever since he'd gotten married. Sometimes he was less successful than others in avoiding four-letter words.

"They screwed up our reservations, didn't they," Brad spat out. "Shi... darn it all anyway."

"No, no," Ashley said quickly. "They've got our room for us okay... a king-size bed with a Jacuzzi... it's not that."

Brad shot her a quick questioning look. His wife avoided his eyes, preferring to stare at the road ahead instead.

"Then, what, sugar?" he asked.

"They called me..." Ashley said, wetting her lips, "... it's just that... they said there'd been a mistake. They called it an oversight. I don't think it was anybody's fault," she said, beginning to babble in her nervousness."

"Ash..." Brad said. There were some conversations he had with his wife where she never did get to the subject she wanted to bring up.

"Okay," Ashley replied. She took a deep breath. "They called to tell us almost the whole hotel had been reserved for a swinger's convention from tonight all the way until Monday."

Brad stared at her in shock. He didn't understand at first. Ashley refused to look at him.

"They said they could get another hotel for us if we wanted," Ashley continued. "They apologized and said they'd take care of getting another room anywhere else we wanted to go," she said. She paused before continuing. "I... honey, please don't be mad... I told them it was all right. We'd stay there."

Brad was choking very slowly but very surely on the huge lump in his throat.

"Baby... we won't have to do anything with anyone in the lifestyle, okay? It's not like any of those people would think of forcing us to do anything, you know. Everything will be all right. We just can watch everyone being sexy and stuff. It'll just be a turn on for us, okay, sugar?"

"I don't... understand," Brad said thickly. His mind was spinning. He felt like he was in the grip of a deadly whirlpool. His life was spiraling downward into the depths.

"I... what was it I did?" He searched for the words to express his confusion. "I... Ashley... you have to tell me... please... I can make it better. What did I do wrong?"

There was no answer to his despairing questions. Ashley Rogers never heard her husband.

"Brad... Brad... Brad... BRADLEY!" she screamed.

Brad snapped his eyes back to the road. With only his left hand on the steering wheel, the Chrysler had drifted slowly into the oncoming lane. The big eighteen-wheeler was coming at them fast; their combined speed was nearly 140 miles per hour. Brad could hear the air horn now. It's strident shrieking was almost overwhelming. The truck driver hauled his big rig as far to the right as he could get. Blue smoke from suddenly applied brakes began to billow out into the pristine afternoon.

Brad twisted the steering wheel hard to the right as quickly as his arms could move. When he stomped on the brakes in a panic, the cruise control automatically disconnected and the engine revs dropped off immediately.

The car swerved violently. Brad had turned too abruptly and too sharply, but it was probably the couple's only chance. The offside tires lifted a full inch off the road surface... then settled back. Brad eased the turn with a snap of his wrist... straightened out for a split second... and pulled the wheel firmly back to the left to bring the car back into his lane from the edge of the right shoulder. A short series of more gentle corrections brought the vehicle back on course down the blacktop. The sound of the truck's loud horn drifted back to them. Brad heard the derisive note still hanging in the air long after the truck disappeared in the rearview mirror.

A mile further on, Brad pulled into the empty roadside park. Neither he nor his wife had said a word to each other since the near disaster. He turned off the engine and listened to the popping noises as the motor cooled for a long moment.

"I'm sorry," he finally told her. His voice was low and rasping. The near accident, along with the news she'd given him before, still held a steely grip over his emotions.

"I... it's all right," she said at last, her voice faint and shaky.

"I should have told you earlier... before we started out," Ashley said slowly. "I should have, I know. I'm sorry too, Brad, honey." The couple sat quietly for a time, steadying their nerves and mulling over the best thing to do next, each in their separate world.