The one saving grace is that we have my little cabin. We sneak away there as often as we can. Last week, Aunt Dorothy took Daisy clothes shopping, so I spent an afternoon with my wife uninterrupted. The things I did to her body still have my mouth watering. I need another taste already.
My phone dings with a notification. It’s the special tone I have set for the security cameras on the property. They’re everywhere, outside all the major buildings and inside of them too. Aunt Dorothy thinks that I have post-traumatic stress from what happened with Missy in the barn, how she was almost kidnapped.
Missy and I let her think that. She doesn’t know that I’m so obsessed with my wife that I need to have my eyes on her all the time.
I open the video feed and what I see gets my blood pumping fast. Missy is in the cabin. She saunters in and bends over right in view of the camera. I get a front-row seat to her delectable behind in those yoga pants of hers. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Women’s yoga pants are the best invention this side of Heaven.
I push to my feet, all my blood headed in one direction. “Well, looks like my shift is over. You have fun with Emma May. Pretty sure she’s going to file a formal complaint against the raccoons later today.”
It’s Luke’s turn to swear under his breath, but I’m already stowing my gear away in my desk drawer. I lock it and grab my Stetson. I’m gone before he can finish his coffee. I’ve got a pretty wife to get home to.
As soon as I’m in the truck, my phone dings again with another notification. When I check it, she’s taken off her shirt, and she’s reaching to remove more clothes. This woman really is going to kill me.
Missy
The steam from the hot shower curls around me, easing the aches and pains I have in my shoulders and back from chasing after Daisy every day. She’s with Aunt Dorothy again. She’s taking her to the quilting circle to “give me a break”. Really, I think she loves showing Daisy off. She thinks of her as her granddaughter and spoils her accordingly.
When I reach for the bar of soap, that’s when I feel it. My husband’s gaze is on me. He’s watching me. There are no cameras in the bathroom, which means he’s in the cabin, and he’s enjoying the view.
I take my time washing myself. I let my fingers trail over my body, making soft little moans as I imagine it’s his fingers instead of my own. I haven’t started showing yet, but I will soon. I’m already carrying the proof of my husband’s love in my belly.
I know I’ve pushed Griffin to the brink when he yanks open the door and joins me in the tiny cubicle. I love the way it’s so small that we’re pressed up against each other, our bodies connected everywhere. I love it even more when he takes over the washing, making sure I’m extra clean everywhere.
He winds me higher and higher until I’m seeing stars and gasping his name. He holds me as my body goes limp, letting me borrow his strength.
“I knew you were watching,” I whisper because this moment is so magical that I don’t want anything to break the spell between us.
“It’s time for payback,” he says softly, tugging me out of the shower. He swipes at the bathroom mirror with a clean towel. The fog on it clears. I can see our naked bodies perfectly, my squishy rolls and his rock-hard planes. “Now you are going to watch. Watch as your husband satisfies you.”
There’s something so sensual about watching our bodies in motion together. I love seeing the way he commands my body and how tightly he’s gripping my hips. I love watching as I bounce against him and how his brow creases with sweat as he works both of us into a frenzy.
I try to hold on as long as I can, but then he’s whispering me in my ear and saying the filthiest things. He’s telling me how much he likes watching his wife and how happy it makes him to know he can see her body any time he wants.
His dirty words and skillful command of my body have me screaming my pleasure so loudly that my throat is raw from the noises I’m making. He follows me over the edge with a roar of completion.
After, we cuddle together on the front porch. He added a porch swing a few days after I mentioned wanting one. He’s always doing that, listening to what I say and making my life a little bit brighter. I can’t believe such an amazing man is all mine.
He pulls out a grape from the picnic basket and pops it into his mouth. I brought a basket of finger foods to the cabin. My man always makes me work up an appetite. I’ve learned to bring food because once he has me alone, the only thing he wants to eat is me.
“How was work?” I ask. I love these mundane, ordinary moments with him. I’ve joined a group on social media for spouses of law enforcement officers. After seeing some of their posts, I’m doubly glad that my husband works in a boring small town that doesn’t see much action. I’d rather he spend his time chasing raccoons than bad guys.
He grunts. “The usual chaos. How was your class today?”
I’ve started taking one class a week at a community college in Sweetgrass River. I don’t have to work since Griffin and I are married. He’s more than happy to support our family, but I still plan to become a pharmacist.
I’m going to do it slowly over the course of a few years because I want to be there for Daisy as she grows up. Well, Daisy and her new sibling.
I can’t wait until I’m showing. I might be one of those pregnant women that walks around in the teeny crop tanks. I want the whole world to know I’m carrying my husband’s baby.
“I didn’t go to class today,” I tell him. Class was yesterday. He knows that, but in the chaos of working the night shift for the past three days, he’s probably forgotten. “I was at the clinic for an appointment with Dr. Cash.”
“Oh, is he going to give you a letter of recommendation for your courses?” He pulls out one of Aunt Dorothy’s homemade cookies and feeds it to me.
“Not quite.” We’ve never once used protection, and we both want more children. But we’ve never talked about when to have those kids. I’m thrilled with the news I’m pregnant. I adore little Daisy, and I love that she’s going to have a sister or brother that’s close to her age. “It was more about my health.”
He frowns. “Do you feel like you have the flu again? I know it was rough for a couple of weeks, but then you seemed to bounce back.”
“It’s not the flu. I’m pregnant,” I tell him, butterflies taking flight in my stomach. When I was pregnant with Daisy, I couldn’t share the good news with her father. I celebrated her conception alone in my dingy apartment. Now, I have a cowboy who’s going to be over the moon to learn our family is growing.
