Page 25 of Certified to Handle You 3

That was all I said, and it was enough for him to stop talking.

I rubbed lotion into his legs first, then took his foot in my hands and started massaging it. Pressure leaned back on his hands and let his head tip slightly to the side. I pressed my thumbs into the bottom of his foot, working slow circles into the tight spots while his other leg rested across my lap. He let out a low sound that made me smile to myself, but I didn’t tease him about it. I kept going because I wanted him to feel every bit of care I had put into the night.

“I love you, Pluto” he said after a while, his voice softer than it had been downstairs.

He was staring at me with his eyes low and full.

“I love you too, Pressure,” I said, rubbing the arch of his foot.

He reached down and touched my cheek, and I turned my face enough to kiss his palm before I finished the other foot.

By the time I was done, Pressure looked like he had finally let the day leave his body. That alone made me feel good. I handed him his briefs, then helped him into his pajama pants and top. The gray silk looked beautiful against his skin, and when I finished buttoning the shirt, I leaned up and kissed him.

Pressure caught my face in his hands and kissed me back. Then he kissed along my jaw and down my neck, soft enough to make my eyes close and deep enough to remind me he was still very much my husband. His mouth moved slow, and I held on to his pajama shirt while he loved on the side of my neck.

“You hungry?” I asked, even though my voice came out needier than I meant for it to.

“Yeah,” he said against my skin.

We went downstairs together, and Pressure kissed me one more time before heading toward his game room.

I went straight to the kitchen and pulled his plate from the warmer. The blackened snapper was still hot, and the mango pineapple salsa was in a small bowl on the side so it wouldn’t make the fish soggy. I added coconut rice, garlic butter asparagus, fried plantains and a spoonful of pepper shrimp with just enough sauce to run into the rice.

After I made his plate, I went down the hall to the bar area and grabbed his favorite bottle. I brought it back to the kitchen, filled a short glass with ice, poured the liquor, then mixed in pineapple juice before stirring it. I left the glass on the counter for a second and carried his food to him first.

When I walked in the game room, the TVs was already loud on the wall, and Pressure was sitting back with his phone on speaker while Kay’Lo talked shit through it. The game hadn’t started yet, but they were already arguing over the matchup like somebody had money on it.

“Them niggas not winnin’ tonight,” Kay’Lo said through the phone.

Pressure took the plate from me and looked toward the phone. “You say that shit every time, then be quiet by halftime.”

“They be cheatin’ and cryin’ like bitches.”

“Nigga, they be hoopin’. It’s a difference.”

I leaned down and kissed Pressure before he could say anything else, and his hand came to my waist while he kissed me back. When I pulled away, he looked at the plate, then back at me.

“Thank you, baby,” he said.

“You’re welcome,” I said with a smile.

I went back to the kitchen and grabbed his drink, then carried it to him. He took it from my hand, but he didn’t let me leave right away. He pulled me back down for another kiss. It was slower this time, with his hand resting warm against my hip. I let him have it, then brushed my thumb over his beard before standing straight.

“Your game is about to start,” I told him.

“I know,” he said, his eyes moving over me before they went back to my face. “Don’t get too comfortable without me.”

I left him there with his plate, his drink and Kay’Lo still running his mouth through the phone. Then I went back upstairs and into our room.

For a few seconds, I stood here in my towel. The children were settled. My husband was fed, clean, relaxed and exactly where he wanted to be before his game. The house felt calm in a way I had been praying to feel again.

I walked to the bar and poured myself a small glass of liquor. I added some orange juice from the mini fridge, stirred it and took a sip. The drink was smooth and warm going down, and I took another small sip before putting it on the counter. Then I turned on some soft music and lit the candles I had placed earlier. The flames lit one by one, and the room started glowing in a way that made me feel pretty before I even changed clothes.

I looked toward the bed, then toward the closet. Pressure had his time downstairs, and I wanted him to have it. He deserved to sit with his food, his drink, his game and no one needing anything from him for a while. But when that game was over, my husband was coming back upstairs to me.

I took off the towel and tossed it in the chair. I walked in the closet and took my time choosing what I wanted my man to see me in later. I skipped over everything simple and reached for a white lace lingerie set I had never wore before. The bra pushed my titties up and made them sit pretty, and the panties came high on my hips while the garter straps wrapped around my thighs.

When I was done putting it on, I turned to the side in the mirror and looked at how my ass filled it out, then I pulled the sheer white robe over my shoulders and tied it loose enough for him to see what I had waiting under it. I let my hair fall around my shoulders, touched up my gloss and stood here for a second because I already knew Pressure was going to lose his mind when he came back upstairs.