Little late for mothers day, but I kind of just wanted to post something on Lit. So this story is offered "as is"... good luck with the grammar.
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Eggs. Strawberries. Milk. Bananas. Yogurt (whole fat,of course). Broccoli. Bread I'd caught coming hot out of the oven because I'm amazing. Some premade ravioli because an amazing mom deserves a goddam break sometimes.
I thought there was space in the fridge, even if the fridge seemed to somehow always be fuller than I thought. I kind of had a system, and someday I promised myself I'd explain it to my husband. I actually had explained it, but it never seemed to stick and I'd always find stuff just slightly misplaced. I pretty much ran the kitchen, which was the price I paid for cutting him off the high sodium crap diet he'd been on. He occasionally did omelets for breakfast, but his omelets were pretty kick-ass and he never complained about my cooking so I didn't mind. Too much.
Anyway, Saturday shopping had gone well. I could load this up, start thawing one of the baby food servings I kept in the freezer, make sure Mark had moved the laundry over to the dryer, swiffer the living room. I made it into the kitchen and got the milk, eggs and yogurt when Mark came down the stairs of our townhouse.
"How was work?" he asked. Oh yeah, I'd also dropped by my work that morning to check a few things. Forgot to mention that.
"It was good." I smiled at him as he slipped around the peninsula and embraced me from behind, kissing my temple. I tilted my head away from his lips. "Did you get the laundry?"
"Mm, yeah," he answered, hand sneaking up my stomach onto my breast, his lips finding a spot just under my ear.
I shrugged up my shoulders, twisting in his arms.
"What are you doing?" I asked, but I couldn't help smiling as I felt him rub up against my back. I could feel him getting getting hard through his jeans.
"I think you know," he teased back, his lips following my neck down to the collar of my shirt. I had to grab the countertop. He knew that drove me crazy. He palmed my thigh, his thumb lying right along the edge of my crotch.
"Mm, nope." My mouth found his and I turned in his arms. His hands ran over my back as we kissed, wandering down until he could grab my butt.
"This!" All of a sudden he had hoisted me up so I was sitting on the edge of the counter, and he dived into the V neck of my shirt. All I could manage was a little yelp, and then I clutched his head to my cleavage, his scruff and lips teasing my skin.
"Is she sleeping?" I knew the answer already. If we were the kind of parents to do this when our baby was awake we wouldn't be on a week long dry spell.
"Yeah," he confirmed, right before his teeth raked over my throat, making me arch my head back and tangle my legs around him.
I raised my arms and he didn't need any more invitation than that. My top was tossed somewhere over by the sink and he started fumbling with the clasp of my bra. In his defense, I was keeping his lips occupied, hungrily tonguing his mouth.
Once he got my bra off (somewhere over near my shirt-ish) he kept his mouth occupied at my tits, switching from one to the other, his hands moving everywhere else until I was quite ready for a little more.
"Upstairs?" he asked, looking up from my chest. I just nodded. We had a guest bedroom upstairs that had become our impromptu lovepad. Haylee pretty much owned our master bedroom, and we certainly didn't want to wake her up with this.
I slid off the counter and started to follow him when my phone rang. Now, I know what you are thinking: "And then you let it ring because why the heck wouldn't you?" And having read that, you now know that I didn't. I thought I'd just check who it was, but then I saw it was my mom and felt a pang of guilt screening her calls.
"Hey," I said in Chinese, immediately becoming uncomfortably aware that I was topless and talking to my mom.
"I'm just calling to see how the baby is doing."
