I really like this dress and I know from the look in Dylan’s eyes it’s probably going to be meeting its end tonight.
Before I can respond the boys come racing out of the house, yelling for us. They rush into me and if it wasn’t for my husband I would have landed on my ass. The twins might only be five, but they are well on their way to being their father’s size.
They each grab one of my hands, pulling me into the house. Dylan follows us in. They are talking a mile a minute about their day, as Dylan suddenly picks me up and sits me on the kitchen counter.
“How about we make Mommy dinner while you tell her all about the play you’re going to be in?”
My ears perk up at that. “What kind of play? You’ll need costumes!” I start to slide off the counter and Dylan laughs.
“Sit, Button. We’ll get to that.” He kisses me on the top of the head as the boys start arguing over what they are going to help Dylan cook. I watch them move around the kitchen knowing life can’t get better than this.
Chapter 11
Dylan
She’s standing in the kitchen when I come back downstairs from putting the boys to bed. She’s leaned over the sink, washing her hands, and I stand there just a second to watch her. The water runs down her hands as she hums to herself, and the soft light makes her cheeks glow.
I think I recognize the song she’s humming. It’s the one we danced to at our wedding. We went back and forth for over a week on which one to choose, even though I told her from the beginning as long as she was in my arms it didn’t matter. Every time I catch her singing it, I smile.
Her dress is still on like I asked her, but she’s barefoot. Her hair is piled up in a knot and she’s taken off the jacket that covers up the top half of her body. Her neck is exposed, and I want to kiss her there. My eyes linger on her shoulders and then her back, and I ache to bite my way down it.
“What are you staring at?” she says, not looking up from her hands.
We’ve been together so long she knows the second I’m near her. I think I could be across the state and still know exactly where she was at. Something about that makes me feel like we’re connected by so much more than a piece of paper. We’ve built more than just a marriage, we’ve built a world with the two of us in the center of it. Tonight proved that anything coming to threaten it will be taken out, and peace will be restored. My wife is more than just my bride, she’s the reason I breathe.
“The most beautiful woman in the world,” I say, still not moving.
She glances back and she gives me a look like she thinks I’m teasing, but she likes what she hears. “You like what you see?” she asks, giving me a wink.
“You damn well know I do.” I let her know how pretty she is as often as I can, and I know it’s still not enough. She deserves more, and I will always try to give her that.
My eyes move up and down her body as I think about where I want to start. It’s then I notice on the counter beside her is a balled-up little pile of cotton. I recall that same little ball from earlier in the day being left on my desk at work.
“Emily,” I say, my voice deep and full of warning.
“Oops,” she says, sass clear in her voice. “Must have left those there by mistake.” She glances over at them and then back to me. She turns off the water at the sink and grabs a towel to dry her hands, but she doesn’t make a move to turn around.
“You’re playing a dangerous game,” I say as I push away from the wall and walk slowly towards her.
“Playing a game? Funny. I thought I was poking a bear.” Again, she looks back at me over her shoulder and smiles at me like a siren.
The buckle on my belt makes a loud clank as I undo it and toss it on the ground. My boots are heavy on the hardwood floors as I come up behind her and unzip my jeans.
“I’ve still got your pussy on my dick from earlier today,” I say as I pull my cock out and grab her hip. “But I need to get it wet again. Don’t I?”
“Yes,” she breathes when I pull her ass back so she’s gripping the edge of the counter and bending over.
“All this running around today and me coming to the rescue has got your pussy soaked. Hasn’t it?”