Page 14 of Wrapped In My Wife


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I’m actually a little mad that he didn’t apologize for the question. But I push all my thoughts away and jump into getting my stuff done. I don’t want to get asked to work late again tomorrow. In fact, if I am, I’m going to say no. I miss my nights at home with my family. Heck, I miss more than that.

I get lost in my work until I hear my phone vibrate. I see a message from Dylan telling me he loves me. I type a quick response, wanting to tease him. A little payback for whatever it is he’s up to.

Husband: I love you

Me: How come I never get a turn on my knees to pleasure you?

Husband: Button

I hide a giggle because I can hear the warning tone of his voice even through the text.

Me: I miss your cock in my mouth. I miss when you grip my hair and make me take you as far as I can.

I clench my legs together thinking about it. I’ve always loved giving Dylan head when he actually lets me. It’s rare that he actually cums down my throat though. He’s always quick to pull me off of him, wanting inside me. I think he’s a little scared he might hurt me when I suck him off. That’s when his control always seems to be at its weakest.

Husband: Emily, I swear to Christ I’ll come back in there and pull you out of that office.

Mark clears his throat, pulling my attention away from my phone. He’s irritated I’m on the phone. I ignore him and check in with the babysitter next. What is he going to do? Fire me?

I still don’t know what is going on with Dylan, but with a little more work I’ll get him to crack. If he doesn’t soon, I have a few tricks of my own. It’s fun playing this little game with him. I wonder what he’s doing right now. I remember we have tracking on our phones and I pull his up. When it doesn’t work right away I mess with it for a second, but still nothing.

“We’ll leave in a few minutes,” Mark says, and I glance at the clock. Dang, that went by fast, but I got a lot done. I organize my desk before grabbing my purse. I pull out my lipstick quickly and swipe it on. I text Dylan to let him know I’m leaving work and I’m going to try and be home as soon as I can. I know this is probably driving him crazy, and I know the feeling. If I could go back in time I wouldn’t have taken this job.

I didn’t want something that’s so time consuming. I already made a fuss about taking this job to start with and now I want to quit after only a few days into it. I know Dylan will be on board with me quitting, but should I really just give up so fast?

I stand, knowing Mark is waiting on me. He’s been staring at me while I get my stuff together. I pretend not to notice, but he’s the main reason I want to quit. He rubs me the wrong way. His personality switches from moment to moment, and I don’t like how he makes me feel.

“Ready when you are,” I say and paste a smile on my face.

Being rude isn’t in my nature. Dylan always jokes that I got him as a husband because he was made to be my protector. That I only ever had to worry about being sweet because he could be an asshole enough for the both of us.

“Let’s go.” Mark starts to put his hand on my back, but I dodge it.

I might like to play with my caveman husband by leaving my panties on his desk, but letting another man touch me is a solid no freaking way.

I wave to Nancy on my way out. She mouths “sorry” to me, clearly feeling my pain. We both talked this morning about how much we don’t like Mark. He gives her a creepy feeling, too. She also mentioned that she thinks he stares at me a little too long. She said she’s going to say something to a higher-up about him. I don’t know who’s above Mark. I thought he was the boss, but Nancy has been here a while and she would know.

“I don’t want you to get flustered. These people might have money, but they’re just people, too. Trust me. I know.” I glance over at him and he adjusts his tie. Again, he’s reminding me that he comes from a well-to-do family. I get it, Mark. You’ve got money. “Your dress is something else,” he says as his eyes roam over me as we make our way across the street. He licks his lips and I have to turn away from him, feeling embarrassed and sick to my stomach. I’m second-guessing my outfit…and even coming here to begin with.

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