“Too late. I was a goner the moment I met you.” As I tug her pants over her butt cheeks, she slips her fingers around my swollen length, and… No, God no. Her fucking phone rings.
“Joey’s watching Mikey. I need to pick up. Sorry.” Holding her shirt to her chest, she pulls up her trousers and stumbles over to the table. “Hello?”
Her head toward the floor-to-ceiling window, she realizes her state of undress, and streaks to my side. Face red in a beautiful blush, she presses the green icon and catches her cousin mid-rant.
“… and Rose claims your cat puked in her sneakers.”How does he know the exact moment I want to make love to my wife?While I consider moving to any one of the other forty-nine states without him in it, Sam rolls her eyes.
Phone in her palm, she glares through the airwaves. “Stop, Joseph. Did anyone die?”
“No, but that’s not why I called. Did youz order a plumber?”
“About a month ago, why?” At her heavy sigh, it’s clear our window for sex is closing.
Still, I dare hope and hit mute. “Can’t you hurry him up?”
“I’m trying. Give me a second.” As she pauses to rub her temple, her cousin’s short temper flares.
“You want I should send the guy up or not?”
At his tone, my wife loses her patience. “Well, duh, but watch him, will ya?”
“But I got the kids.”
Dude, dude, your whine never works on her.
Sam’s eyes narrow as she strangles the cell phone. “Jeesh, I dunno. Why not ask Rose to help for a second?”
“She won’t because of the shoe issue.”
Red blotches top my wife’s cheeks. “Oh my God, tell her I’ll replace them. Please, Joey, just deal.”
“You owe me.”
“Bye Joey.” After she hangs up, I grab her hand and pull her to the base of the circular staircase. “We better do this before-”
When the goddamn phone pings, I put my foot down. “Do not open that text message.”
“I can’t ignore it.” She glances down, scrolls, and utters curse words I never before heard come out of her mouth.
Meanwhile, I clunk the back of my head repeatedly against the wall. “Don’t tell me. The cat maxed our Amex.”
“Worse. Frankie’s downstairs with his.”
“Why does a hitman want to show us his credit cards?” As I massage her shoulders, she closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and slowly lets it out.
“No, hun, he’s dropping off Chloe.”
My eager cock understands sex is off the table and yet maintains his upright position, hoping against all hope we can get rid of him and resume the serious business of making love.
“Wahl, sugar, he’s your bestie. Go ahead and let him in.” I lift her chin and give her a heated kiss, letting it be known what she’s missing should she dawdle.
“I can’t very well tell him to get lost. He was our first real client.”
“I got a fantastic idea. How about you tell him you were about to get laid and ask him to come back in five minutes.”
“Five? That fast?” Grinning, she buttons up her pants and strides over to the intercom.
“Babe, cut me some slack, I’m desperate here.”
