Brad could tell right from the start that the person in his bed was not Janet. It wasn't the garish makeup or the bad wig or the stubble on the Frank's chin that clued him in…although all these things certainly would have been a dead giveaway…it was the fact that this person was doing something Janet had adamantly refused to do no matter how he pleaded with her. Frank could have sent someone who was her exact double, and he still would have known it was not really Janet the moment a pair of eager lips descended on his groin.

But things just looked so much better if he played innocent.

If he admitted to realizing it was Frank right from the start, then he would be forced to stop those talented lips from sending white-hot bolts of pleasure through his core. He'd have to shout in mock outrage and then rush off to seek out his frigid fiancée. But if he feigned ignorance, he could let himself get swept away by the pleasure and claim later that he was too caught up in the moment to stop things once Frank revealed himself. After all, men aren't known for their ability to think rationally in the heat of passion.

Truth be told, he didn't care whether the head bobbing up and down on his aching shaft or the fingers pushing into him to hit a pleasure spot he didn't even know existed belonged to a male or a female so long as they didn't stop. He loved Janet…he truly did…but he had needs she was completely unwilling to fulfill. And as Frank murmured about giving oneself over to pleasure, Brad couldn't help but arch his back and press into the man above him. Brad's mild, insincere protests did nothing to dissuade Frank from his goal, and for that, Brad was secretly thankful. He loved this powerless feeling of being swept away by Frank's touch. He didn't have to take charge or be the aggressor. All he had to do was give in and accept what Frank was offering. It was an easy decision. For once, he was going to give himself over to mindless pleasure.

After all, what Janet didn't know, couldn't hurt her, right?