Page 198 of This Woman Forever
“As you would expect.”
“So, it’s down to me to advise your wife that she has a chaperone for the time being. Is that what we’re getting to? Because, you know, you could advise her now.”
Could. Won’t. “You have permission to use extreme but gentle force.” I suck the end of my finger, humming my happiness.
“Great.”
“Anything on anything?” I ask around my mouthful.
“Nothing.”
“On anything?” I ask, surprised.
“That’s what I said, motherfucker. Welcome back.” He hangs up, and I slowly slip my mobile into my inside pocket but pull it straight back out when it dings with a message. Ava’s brother. Asking if I’m free today. “Nope,” I say, leaving the message unanswered and returning my jar to the fridge, hearing the front door open and close.
“Morning, boy. Welcome home.” Cathy dumps her bag on the island and immediately swipes up my coffee cup. “How was your holiday?”
“Wonderful.” Slight exaggeration. “Would you make Ava some breakfast?”
“Yes, must keep that tummy full of good, healthy food!”
“Thanks, Cathy. Oh, and a decorator will be here around nine to repaper my office wall.”
“It was just done on Friday.”
Yes, well, Paradise shone the best light on my girl. “Just a few tweaks.”
Weirdo.
“Fuck off,” I grunt, leaving Cathy in the kitchen and heading upstairs.
Ava’s sitting on the carpet in front of the mirror in lace when I walk into the bedroom. Hell, I should have woken her up earlier. But did I hope she’d sleep in and get reprimanded by her boss? I can neither confirm nor deny. My smile is wide as I watch her beautifully lingerie-clad body move as she works her hands through her hair, blasting it dry.
“Morning,” I say happily when I catch her admiring me in the mirror. She’s right. I look hot today. I’m glad she’s noticed. The appreciation stops there, though, from both sides. My smile falls when her face contorts into something resembling annoyance. What have I done now?
The dryer is dropped to the carpet, and she paces to the dressing room. “Wow,” I breathe. I’m very glad I passed the baton to John where her transport is concerned. I know neither of us are particularly delighted to be back from Paradise, but is that my fault?
I quickly check the nightstand, making sure she’s taken her folic acid. She has. That’s one argument averted. My chin drops to my chest, my sigh weighed with impatience, my hands slipping into my pockets to stop me finding her and pinning her to the nearest wall.
Ava appears from the dressing room a few moments later, and I can’t hold back my amusement as she marches across the bedroom to the bathroom, her boobs bouncing just enough for my eyes, but way too much for any other man’s. And her legs? I can see the start of her thighs. So she’s playing dirty, is she? My God, how she tests me. Usually with non-existent dresses. They’re like a loaded gun for my wife.
I go to the dressing room and look through the rails to find something more suitable, settling on a lovely black number. Maybe it’s a little tighter than I’d like, but that’s my compromise. “Drives me fucking crazy,” I mutter. “What did I even fucking do?”
I go to the bathroom door and watch her applying her mascara, refusing to look at me. So I get closer. She flicks her eyes to mine. “What do you think you’re doing?” I ask.
“I’m putting my makeup on.”
“Let me rephrase that,” I breathe out, losing my amusement and finding some patience. “What do you think you’re wearing?” It’s getting shredded as soon as it’s off.
“A dress.”
“Let’s not start the day on a bad note, lady.” I present the alternative. “Put the dress on.” To my utter surprise, she doesn’t object, taking the dress and leaving, albeit on a huff. And she continues with the sounds of bother as she gets out of her choice of dress and puts on mine, fiddling with the zipper.
“Will you zip me up, please?”
I can tell it pains her to ask me. I can also tell I’ll be getting nothing more than the pleasure of zipping her up. I need to snap her out of this unprovoked, foul mood. And maybe find out what the hell has put her in it? “Of course.” I press my body to hers, make sure my breathing is heavy and my mouth’s close to her face, and take in her freshly washed and blow-dried hair, moving it over her shoulder. The evidence of her bodily response presents itself to me in the form of a satisfying shudder. Well, satisfying for me, probably annoying for my wife.
Finding the zip, I slowly, seductively, pull it up, homing in on her cheek with my lips and?—