Page 10 of Wrapped In My Wife


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“Yes, sir,” he tells me without hesitation.

I believe him. Even though, I kind of have to, he’s capable of running this whole business without me for longer than I care to think about. He’s a great asset to the company, and if he can do what he says, then I think there will be a lot of room for him to grow here.

I tell him as much, and he beams with pride as I walk out and wave goodbye to him over my shoulder.

When I hop in my truck, I pull Emily’s panties out of my pocket and bring them to my nose. The smell of her pussy drives me fucking crazy. She knew what she was doing by coming here and leaving these. She’s waving a red flag in front of a bull, and she damn well knows it.

She might as well be goddamn Cinderella running all over town missing these. Good thing for her, I’m the handsome prince who’s going to hunt her down and slip them on. And even better, I might just have to spank her ass for it while I do it.

Chapter 7

Dylan

When I pull up at the library, I tuck my aching cock away so I don’t scare whatever gray-haired old ladies they’ve got working here. I’ve got Emily’s panties tucked away safe in my front pocket of my jeans and I reach down in there every so often to touch them.

When I get inside I walk to the circular desk in the middle. Instead of what I predicted to be an old lady wearing a cardigan, it’s a woman about the same age as my wife. She’s got on a polka-dot dress and her hair is up in a bandana. She smiles at me when she sees me and walks over to where I’m standing.

“How can I help you today?” she asks.

“I’m looking for my wife. Emily Wallace.”

“Oh,” she says, her eyes going wide. She looks me up and down then picks up a phone. “She’s in the back. I’ll page her.”

She turns her back to me as she whispers something I don’t catch into the phone. When she’s finished she turns back around and gives me a giant smile.

“I’m Nancy. It’s so nice to meet you.”

“You too,” I say, trying to be polite.

What I really want to do is stomp to the back myself and find my goddamn wife. But this is her place of work and I don’t want to cause her any trouble. I’ve already got a list of grievances on this place a mile long, so I try to focus on the problem at hand.

I pace around a little, but Nancy doesn’t take her eyes off me. After what feels like forever, my bride comes around a corner looking like she ran the whole way here.

“Dylan.” Her voice is cool and completely opposite to the way she looks.

She’s in the dress she bought for our date night we had a few months back. “Why are you wearing that?” I say a little too loudly.

Emily shushes me and takes me by the arm. She leads me down a hallway and to an office in the back of the building that I haven’t seen before. Michael didn’t put cameras in here, and I’m already thinking about how he needs to fix that. I don’t want a place in this building where I can’t see her.

“What are you doing here?” she hisses at me, and then pokes me in my chest. “You weren’t in your office today, where you were supposed to be. And what’s this I hear about the boys being with the sitter last night? Do you have anything you need to tell me, Wallace?”

I know she means business when she calls me by my last name. Shit. I look down at her in that dress and I start thinking back to the last time she had it on. I fucked her in the bathroom of the restaurant, unable to make it home before I had her. Damn, how long ago was that date night? Was that really the last time I took her out? Sure, I’ve made love to her since then, but I can’t recall the last time I made a special night for us.

“Dylan,” she prompts, and I can see the impatience in her eyes.

“You asked me if I was hungry,” I say, taking a prowling step towards her. I move slowly, and her eyes widen. “Button, you know I’m always starving for it.”

She takes a step back, holding her hands up and looking over her shoulder towards the door. “Dylan, we can’t. Not here.”

“I’ll fuck you anywhere I want,” I say, taking another step towards her. My heavy work boots are loud on the tile floor.

“This is where I work,” she says through gritted teeth. Her fists are clenched at her side, but she knows better than to tell me no. “You can’t come in here and be all…all…you.”

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