“Don’t stop on my account,” she purrs, swinging one leg idly. “You look very… capable with your hands.”
My grip tightens on the trowel. “Catalina.”
“Mhm?” Her voice is all innocence, but her eyes flash mischief.
“You keep sitting there like that, and I’m not finishing a damn thing.”
She laughs as she slides off the tub. Her bare feet pad across the tile as she trails a hand across the fresh grout like she’s testing me, then steps close enough that her scent hits me.
I don’t look up, I can’t. Fuck me, my wife is the only woman who can make me nervous.
“You’re sweating,” she purrs. “Want me to cool you off?”
I drag in a breath through my teeth. “Baby…”
Her fingers trace down my spine with a featherlight touch, following the line of sweat until I shudder. She leans in, her breath hot against my ear. “You could bend me over this tub right now, and I’d let you.”
The trowel clatters against the bucket as my hand slips. My jaw aches from how hard I’m clenching it. “Bathroom first,” I grit out.
“Good boy,” she whispers, patting my shoulder. She saunters out of the room, hips swaying, humming some EDM beat under her breath like she didn’t just wreck my entire sanity.
I watch her go, cursing under my breath, every muscle in my body taut with need.
Ten minutes pass by, and she’s back to kill me some more.
This time she’s carrying a glass of water, sipping it like she’s dying of thirst. Except she’s not thirsty, she’s showing off. The way her lips wrap around the rim, the slight moan she makes as water slides down her throat, a droplet of water escaping to run down between her tits.
I snap my eyes back to the tile. “You trying to kill me?”
“Me?” Her voice goes all high-pitched innocence. “I’m just hydrating. You should try it sometime.”
She tips the glass again slowly, and I swear I hear her swallow to torment me. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and sighs dramatically. “God, I’m so hot. Maybe I should… take a shower.”
“You’re not stepping foot in that tub until I’m done,” I growl, setting a tile harder than I mean to.
She grins, sauntering over, with the water glass dangling from her fingers. “Who said anything about using the tub?”
I drop the trowel.
She’s lucky I don’t drop her straight over my shoulder and march into our bedroom.
“Catalina—”
She crouches down in front of me, completely naked, her knees brushing the dust on the floor. Her lips part in a wicked little smile, chestnut eyes glittering.
“You’re so sweaty,” she whispers, reaching out to trace my abs with one finger, slow and taunting. “All this hard work… just for me. Do you know how bad I want you to ruin me right now, Carter?”
My head falls back, a curse ripping out of me.
As quick as she came, she stands, setting the empty glass on the vanity like she hasn’t just unraveled me. “Well,” she chirps, turning toward the door, “better get back to work.”
I lunge forward, catching her wrist before she escapes, and she gasps, spinning back to me with wide eyes.
“Bathroom first,” I grind out, voice rough enough to scrape. “Then you.”
Her grin is pure sin. “Guess you better hurry then, cowboy.”
She slips free and disappears down the hall, humming again, leaving me hard as a rock and one breath away from losing every ounce of control.
