Goody Two Shoes (Invertary 2)

According to the books, this sort of thing was supposed to turn them both on. His wife was in hysterics, and he could honestly say swatting her ass like she was a two-year-old was doing nothing for him. He let her legs drop. Pulled out a chair and sat down to wait out her hysterics.

After several minutes, the laughter tapered off. Helen’s cheeks were flushed and wet. She was still grinning, and she’d brought her heels up to rest on the table, because she’d been complaining that her stomach muscles were aching.

“Andrew, are you still here?”

He grunted.

“I guess that means you are. And you’re back to your old grunting self.” She giggled again, then worked to get it under control. “What now, dumbass?”

Andrew leaned forward and crossed his arms on the table beside her. “I’m damned if I know.”

“Aren’t you supposed to torture me until I beg for an orgasm?” She was mocking him. With a grin on her face.

Andrew couldn’t help but smile at her. She was stunning, lying there all flushed and happy.

“I have a bag full of sex toys to torment you with.”

Her eyebrows went up and peeked out from under the blindfold. “What kind of toys?” He could tell she was trying not to come across as too eager.

He grinned. He trailed his fingers up her arm to her shoulder. Pretty. She was so pretty.

“I’m not telling you now. You ruined the mood.”

She pretended to pout. “So I don’t get my orgasm, then?”

“I didn’t say that.”

She sucked in a breath, but tried to cover her reaction with a fake light-hearted laugh. Andrew felt hopeful for the first time in months. He leaned over and popped the top button on her dress.

“What are you doing?”

“Seeing what’s mine.” He’d stolen that line from a book. From several books, in fact. It seemed to crop up a lot. And damn if it wasn’t a line that actually worked. He could feel her pulse pick up speed under his fingertips. He popped another button.

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” Her words were saying one thing, but the way she moved into his touch was saying something else entirely.

“I want to get a few things straight.” Andrew popped another button. Her underwear came into view. She was wearing a pale yellow lace bra that he’d never seen before. He traced the edge of the cup with his finger. Pretty.

Helen let out a breath that shuddered slightly. She was working at keeping her breathing even. At trying to hide her reaction to his touch. His shoulders relaxed. It’d been too long since he’d had fun with his wife. Too long since he’d spent time studying her every reaction to him. He’d forgotten how wonderful it was to watch what he did to her. How she reacted to him. He slowly worked his way down the rest of the buttons until her dress fell open at her sides.

Goosebumps made a pattern on her skin as the cold air caressed her. He ran his palm over her stomach, feeling it clench beneath his touch. He wasn’t worried about her being cold. He planned to warm her up.

“You need to release me.” Her voice was shaky. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

He liked that she said “we.”

“I want to talk about some stuff.” Her underpants were the same colour as her bra. They had a tiny satin bow on each hip. He wondered if they were there for decoration or if he could untie them.

He shifted in his chair as his trousers became constricting.

“You want to talk?” she said. He could imagine her rolling her eyes. He smiled. “You never want to talk. It’s part of the problem. I might as well be living with a blow-up doll. You don’t talk. You don’t do anything at all. You just sit around waiting to die. Well, I don’t want a life like that. I want to live my life. I want to squeeze as much out of it as I can.”

He sighed. How many ways had he screwed things up? How many ways had he hurt his wife?

“You should have told me.” It was the wrong thing to say.

“I did tell you, dumbass. Over and over again. That’s another problem we have. You don’t listen. You’re too busy brooding about being old.”

It was a slap to the face. He couldn’t deny she was right. “I’m listening now. Tell me what you want.”