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Happily Ever Always
I know every inch of my wife’s body intimately. I can connect the dots on the network of beauty marks and freckles that grace her elegant shoulders with my eyes closed.
But, whenever I watch her working – when she’s absorbed in her work, and the world around her has fallen away – I always discover something new. Today, it’s the way her tongue darts out every time she lifts onto her toes to reach the top corner of the large canvas she’s painting.
She has her earbuds in and is singing Adele’s “Rolling in the Deep” at the top of her lungs.
I crane my head out of the door and listen for a few seconds. When I don’t hear anything, I close the door quietly and rush to enjoy the rare and fragile peace of alone time with the miraculous treasure of the amazing woman I’m married to.
She yelps in surprise and spins around when I close the door firmly behind me.
Her eyes, my own personal pools of paradise, widen and she smiles like her entire world just lit up when she sees me.
My heart thuds at the same time my lungs constrict. I’ve looked into her face more times than I can count, and yet every time feels like the very first time, when she captivated my imagination and my heart. I still can’t believe I get to spend the rest of my life with her.
“Baby! I didn’t hear you come in. She cranes her neck to look past me and frowns.
She shifts all the paints she’s carrying to one arm and pulls her earbuds out.
“I thought you took Ella to Max’s party. Are you guys back early?”
I reach and take the paints from her and walk them over to the table in the center of the studio we built on the top level of our house.
“She hates Max.” I inform her of our daughter’s latest and greatest BFF breakup. They’re a weekly occurrence now.
She comes to stand beside me while I arrange the paints the way I know she likes them.
“Since when does she hate Max? What did you do?”
I laugh at the accusatory tone in her voice and turn so we’re standing face-to-face.
“It wasn’t me this time. She saw his fish tank, told him it was cruel to keep fish as pets, and then walked out.”
She groans and wraps her arms around my waist and presses her face into my chest. “Is our kid weird?”
I hug her back and press a kiss to the top of her head.
“Yeah, but she’s also pretty fucking awesome. He followed her outside and begged her to forgive him. She told him her forgiveness should be the least of his concerns before she rolled the window up. He was still standing there when we drove off. She didn’t look back once.”
We both laugh.
We’re both artists who always lead with our hearts. Our seven-year-old daughter, on the other hand, is a pragmatic, slightly aloof little biologist. And yet, that she’s our child is undeniable
“So, where is she now?”
“In her room. She’s reading the book your mother sent.”
She nods absently and then her eyes slide to mine for a second before she looks back at the table. A small smile teases the corner of her mouth. Oh, yeah. Our minds are on the same track and she’s thinking exactly what I was when I closed the door a few minutes ago. Her body, all long lines and compelling curves, is taut with anticipation.
“And…what are you doing?” Her voice is a breathless, husky, suggestive siren song. This time when she looks at me, her eyes are an azure lasso, and I couldn’t look away from her if my life depended on it.
“I’m thinking about all the ways I want to fuck you, but planning for the only way I can right now. Hard and fast. Deep and dirty.”
Her hot, blue expression turns turbulent with need, and I take a mental snapshot of her like that before I move to stand behind her. She leans back into me and rubs her ass on my already hard cock.
“Hard, dirty and deep is exactly what I had in mind.”
“What about the fast?” I press a kiss to the small freckle on the back of her neck.
