Page 177 of End Game

A lazy smile spreads across her face. “I see you found your present.”

“I thought we had a dollar limit.”

“This was thirty-eight ninety-nine with a coupon.”

I laugh despite myself. “You comparison-shopped the lingerie you bought for me to fuck you in?”

She smiles.

I hook one finger beneath the blanket without pulling it off her anymore. “Was this actually for me?”

The teasing leaves her expression. “Yes.”

“Were you hoping I’d wake you up?”

“Yes.”

I hold her gaze. “Green?”

Her smile comes back immediately. “So fucking green.”

Good.

I lean down and kiss her.

There are moments with Cami when everything in my head gets quieter.

This isn’t one of them.

This turns every fucking thought up.

My wife is in my bed on Christmas morning wearing red lace she bought for me.

Her mouth opens beneath mine as I move over her, and whatever sleepy softness remained disappears when I drag the blanket further down.

“Fuck, baby.”

Cami laughs until my hand slides over her thigh. “You like it?”

“You know I fucking like it.”

“I mean I was hoping.”

My voice lowers. “I think you were awfully sure of yourself to fall asleep like this.”

“I had faith.”

“In me?”

“In your ability to ignore red lace.”

My hand moves higher, and her hips shift toward the touch before I even get there.

Her pussy is so wet the fabric is soaked. “Fuck.”

Her smile is unbearably pleased with itself. “Maybe I was thinking about you.”

“Maybe?”