It was the first time I wished poker night to end sooner, and I wasn’t the only one.
A peal of laughter flows from her mouth. “Who won?”
“I won at life. Rafe won the poker game. The loser.”
She laughs some more, making me feel like a damn hero. “I like the attitude, husband.”
She sashays toward me, but I lose patience and cut the distance between us in two strides.
I pull her flush to my chest by the back of her neck, and she giggles as I inhale her sweet scent. “I missed you.” She smells like home. Like mine.
She looks up at me, her eyes sparkling. “Me too. You’re still not getting into my panties.”
I wiggle my brows. “You wear thongs.”
“Semantics.”
“Exactly, baby.”
Nothing will deter me. My patience has beeped its last second.
With my palm on her ass, I urge her up the stairs and into our bedroom. More rose petals and candles light a path to the bathroom. Inside, more petals rest along the edge of the ample tub, soft music plays from the house’s integrated sound system, and silky petals glide around the sweetly perfumed water. A bottle of non-alcoholic red wine chills on the floor with two glasses.
She takes in the romantic ambiance and says over her shoulder, “Pulling out all the stops, I see.”
“I live to love you.”
She rewards me with a beam that wires me up.
I help her out of her shirt and skirt. “Have I told you that you drive me wild with these fucking skirts?”
She bites her lip, playing coy. “Not my intention.”
“Sure, miss innocent with perfect legs and an ass to die for.”
I lower to my knees, my fingers digging into her waist, and place a soft kiss on her belly.
She threads her hand through my hair, our eyes locking as I peel her thong off and she helps me undress.
“We’re just going to take a bath,” she breathes, not sounding so sure.
A noncommittal hmm rumbles in my throat.
I am not necessarily reenacting our first bath together, but I intend to make her lose her mind just like then, when she begged for the tip only to end up slowly fucked and filled with cum.
Her hands skim down my torso, and she traces her finger over my bullet wound, then the knife wound marring my right side.
“I’m so sorry,” she murmurs, placing a kiss on each mark.
“You didn’t mean to. I startled you. You reacted. Better safe than sorry.”
Her chest heaves with a deep sigh. “Not with you, baby. My impulse could have cost me everything.”
Then she moves to the other one, her gaze turning darker. “But this one was intentional.”
“He’ll pay for it,” I assure her. “Only my wife can kill me.”
She slaps my chest, a small smile teasing her lips. “You’re incorrigible.”
