Believe me, my hubby and I plan on making good use of it for that.
Sometimes, I wonder if I hadn’t survived the pain and loss I endured early on, if I’d be able to appreciate what and who I have now.
Daniel.
As if he knows I’m thinking about him, he tips his head against mine and I kiss the top of it. I wouldn’t be the man I am today if not for his healing love and strength.
Blessings.
Something I’m smart enough to never take for granted again.
* * * *
“Your mind was far away, Master,” Daniel teases later as we leave church and hold hands for the walk to our SUV. We each carry our Bibles in the other. His breath billows and freezes in the cold air. “Did you even hear the sermon?”
Sometimes, he can read me too well.
I squeeze his hand and pull him back, almost behind me, when I spot an oncoming car I think is approaching a little too fast to stop in time for the slushy road conditions. We pause, waiting for it to pass or stop before crossing the street to where I parked our SUV.
“I was listening. She had me thinking, though.”
“Did she, now?”
“Yes.” The car nosedives as the driver brakes hard and comes to a stop, then waves us and a few others waiting cross to go ahead. Only then do I step forward and lead the way across the street. I take no risks with Daniel’s safety, as corny as that might sound. Yes, he’s a grown-ass man of thirty-eight, but this is one of the few ways I can show my love for him.
“Thinking about what?” he asks.
We round the Mercedes SUV’s front and I click the button on the key fob to unlock the doors. I open his door for him and hold it while he climbs in. Then I wait until I’m satisfied he’s safely tucked in to close it and walk around so I can slide behind the wheel. The Mercedes is comfortable for my six-five frame. I get cranky trying to cram myself into a small car.
Daniel prefers his tiny Honda. He won’t let me upgrade him into something better and it’s one of the few things I won’t overrule him on.
Yet.
It was the firstnew-new car he’d ever purchased. When we were dating and things grew serious between us, and we were negotiating limits and protocols, he made it a hard limit. I promised him then I’d never make him sell it.
I try to be a man of my word. Doesn’t mean I haven’t taken him window shopping at car dealerships every chance I get. It’s over twelve years old now. It’s in good shape, though, because he takes excellent care of it, and it’s got low miles.
Still haven’t tempted him into a larger, safer car.
If we’re going somewhere together, we take my Mercedes regardless of who’s driving, because I don’t like having my knees jammed into my chin. That’s what it feels like, to me anyway, when riding in his car.
When we’re in DC, we take cabs or ride-share services or walk. A car in DC is impractical for us. Rarely, when we actually need a car, we rent one.
I adjust the heat with his question still lingering in my mind, but he’s my good boy and knows I heard him. He doesn’t have to repeat himself.
He patiently waits me out.
“About blessings,” I say, meeting his gaze. “About how you’re my greatest blessing.”
He blushes, an adorable reaction I don’t get to see enough of because he’s damned hard to rattle. He reaches over and squeezes my wrist. “You’re my greatest blessing, too, Master.”
I lean in and kiss him but quickly disengage when my cock thickens in my slacks.
A decade married or not, it’d be bad form for a US senator to get caught fucking his husband in their car just outside their church.
* * * *
Our ride home is companionably quiet. We hold hands as I drive, accompanied by only the sound of the radio playing a jazz station. One of the many things I love so much about Daniel is there’s no need to fill silences with him. I don’t nervously chatter, I don’t feel anxious. His peaceful energy flows through me.
