"Welcome home, honey!”
I stepped inside and shut the door behind me. It was all I could do not to lean against it and cry. I tossed my purse onto the recliner and sat down on the couch. As I slipped my feet out of my shoes, I looked up at my husband.
“Please, tell me your Mom has the kids for the weekend.”
“My mom has the kids for the weekend.”
I closed my eyes and sighed. The week had really drained me. I usually loved Jack’s happy-go-lucky attitude, but it was already wearing on me. If I didn’t say something now, I knew I’d blow up later.
“Jack, can you tone down the happy a few notches?”
“Sure, babe,” he said, lowering himself to his knees in front of me. Jack is well over six foot tall, so even on his knees, he can look me in the eyes. At least, he can when I’m sitting. “Did you have a rough day?” he asked in a much softer voice.
“I’ve had the week from hell, Jack,” I said. I leaned back on the couch and closed my eyes. “I don’t suppose you feel like spoiling me, do you?”
“Always.” The way he said it told me he was grinning from ear to ear. I had to smile. Jack is a lot like a puppy; he makes life a little frustrating, but he has ways of making up for it.
I opened my eyes and slowly ran the edge of my right foot up his inner thigh. My body went tight and hot somewhere slightly below my navel and very deep. Even after fifteen years, Jack can still make me hot and sticky. It’s one of the ways he makes up for his faults.
He was wearing jeans, very tight fitting jeans with nothing on under them. My eyes slid over his bare chest, his skin taut and tanned over nicely hardened muscles. The image of that chest working as he moved above me caught in my mind and I almost shivered. My toes nestled against his sac, slowly tracing the roundness of his balls under his jeans.
“Have you been a good boy?”