“They won’t wake up,” I say, planting a kiss on her temple because I can’t simply help myself.
“They are old, not deaf, so they will hear,” she taunts.
“I promise you, Aisha, that I can make you scream my name right now, right here, and they still won’t hear a single thing.”
She opens her mouth to argue but shuts it real quick when my words register in that pretty mind of hers, and she throws the deadliest of looks in my way, and I just smile.
I love rattling her so much.
“You are gross.”
“I think ‘sexy’ would be a better word, but sure. Whatever my wife says.”
She shakes her head, refusing to give in to my antics, and starts plating her food.
“If you are waiting for me to serve you, then you are going to bed hungry.”
I laugh lowly before plating my own plate.
“Too bad I would serve you in whatever way you wanted me to.”
She chokes on her food, starting to cough, and I pass her a glass of water while rubbing her back slowly.
She is going to kill me.
“Did someone give something to you at work?” She complains, her eyes red from all the coughing.
“No,” I say, choosing my words carefully. There’s a thin line between flirting with Aisha and preparing your own deathbed, and I always dangle on the wrong side of it. “I just can’t resist myself when you look this good.”
She looks at herself from head to toe, and I shake my head.
I can already guess what she is about to say.
“I am wearing sweatpants and a rugged sweater that can easily pass for a dirty rag.”
She takes a spoonful of her food, some of the gravy slipping down her chin.
“You can wear anything, and you would still look pretty to me, baby.”
I wipe her chin with my thumb before licking it, and she just keeps staring at me before focusing on her food.
I don’t tease her so much after that, letting her eat in peace.
* * *
Even when I urge her to go to bed and wait for me so that I can load the dishwasher, she doesn’t let me, actually pushing me towards the room, and I wonder where she is getting the strength from.
Honestly, I don’t know what I would do without her. I know I wouldn’t be able to survive the stress of adulthood without her.
No matter how much I say it, I will forever be indebted and grateful to her for loving me.
Once I am done with my shower, I wrap a towel around my torso and step out, and what follows is a loud “what the fuck” that startles me enough that I grip my towel in horror.
“What the hell, Aisha?” I ask, my heart calming down when I see that it was just her overreaction.
“You tell me,” she says, angrily, covering her face with the blanket. “Why are you coming out like this?”
I roll my eyes, strolling towards her. “You are acting as if you have never seen me naked before.”
