Page 4 of My Indecent Valentine

Her brow knits for a moment before her eyes light up. She squeezes in at my side and brushes her lips across my jaw. “It’s our Valentine’s,” she mumbles against my skin.

“You’re a smart woman,” I say, but when I attempt to catch her lips with mine, she pulls back and gives me a curious look.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Nothing.” She shakes her head and plants a quick kiss on my lips. “We should go.”

We bid the crew goodnight. She tells them that we’ll be in touch as soon as we’re able to reopen, and I promise them they’ll be paid for the days we’re closed. It’s a promise the restaurant can’t afford, but I can, for now, at least. My wealth, or rather our wealth now that we’re married, is ample but not endless, and Ollas Encendidas has taken a significant toll.

When we decided to start a restaurant together, one of the sacrifices we knew we’d be making was celebrating holidays on the same calendar as the rest of the world. Sofia grew up like this. Her entire family works in the service industry. It’s new to me, but I’m adjusting. It turns out any day can carry special meaning if you let it.

“We’re home,” Sofia says with a relieved sigh as soon as we step out of the elevator. Our condo is on the top floor of Merihem Tower in the heart of downtown Chicago, only a few blocks from the restaurant.

I follow behind her, and come to a stop when she pauses at our door. She makes no move to open it. “We’re going to be alright, aren’t we? The restaurant, I mean,” she asks, turning around to face me.

“Of course,” I say. She's looking me right in the eye and I can't help but glance away to hide my uncertainty. I’ve asked her to leave the books and operations to me, and she’s agreed.

“Because, if not… I had someone approach me with an offer.”

“We’ll be fine,” I say, and reaching past her, I key in my ten-digit code, carefully obscuring the keypad with my other hand.

“Who are you hiding it from? I know your code,” she laughs and starts to recite it aloud. She does it to get a rise out of me, and it works. Every time. My skin prickles with the need to stop her. I flatten her against the door and seal her mouth with mine. She responds quickly and hungrily.

“Keep my secrets, wife,” I grumble against her lips. She laughs. It’s a wicked little giggle, and I like it.

I scan my thumbprint and push the door open, catching Sofia before she can stumble. I give her a little spin, and she enters ahead of me. I delight at the sound of her startled gasp. My plans for tonight have always been to seduce this woman out of every last aching orgasm she can muster, and given the night we’ve just had, I think zero adjustments are in order.

The entryway is overflowing with fresh-cut flowers in staggered vases: roses, peonies, camellias, buttercups, and gardenias. The floor is strewn with petals, and, of course, they create a path she is meant to follow. It leads to the first bathroom just off the hallway. She stops in the doorway and her mouth falls open in a way that captures my full attention, arousing some of my best memories in exquisite detail. Those full lips and that hungry mouth have completely undone me on so many occasions. My cock twitches against the seam of my pants, but it’s not time for that yet.

“Do you like it?” I ask, watching her face for every flicker of reaction. I want her to be pleased. I don’t have to look inside to know the clawfoot tub is steaming. A few clicks on the app on my phone, and it started filling the moment we left the restaurant. Circulating jets will keep the temperature constant. There are petals floating on the surface. One of the gilded side tables is set with champagne and a tray of assorted glass bottles of oils and scented creams. The other is full of confections: chocolates, petit fours, and sugar-dusted fruits. The classics are classics for a reason.

“The wall,” she whispers on a wondrous breath. Ah yes, that. For my beloved pyrophiliac, I had a gas fireplace installed this afternoon, the largest I could find. A flame for her to lose herself in until I come to reclaim her in an hour or so. It’s only a warmup before the main attraction, but I hoped she’d like it, and my chest inflates with pride to see that she does.

“It looks expensive,” she says, the glow in her eye dimming as her brow creases.

I bristle. If and when Ollas Encendidas bleeds us dry, I will cut off every single one of my personal expenses. I have lived on next to nothing before, and I can do it again. But Sofia will have every luxury I can give her for as long as I can give it to her.

“I will heap pleasures and comforts upon you until the day I die. I took a vow.”

She snorts, turning to me to cock an eyebrow. “You keep saying that, but our wedding was recorded. Those aren’t your vows.”

“It was implied.”

“How convenient that your vaguely worded vows now give you implicit permission to be as over-the-top extravagant as you want.” She crosses her arms. She’s mostly teasing, but there’s some real irritation below the surface. She disapproves of my spending habits. She forgets that I’m an excellent bargainer. I paid a fraction of the asking price.

“Would you prefer I surprise you with a lukewarm stock tub, no frills?”

“I might enjoy that,” she replies with a stubborn lift of her chin.

“Liar. You will enjoy this bath, wife. You will soak and preen, and rub yourself down with all of my favorite scented oils. I will come fetch your relaxed and pliant body when I’m ready to ravish it.” I nip at the side of her neck and give her a little shove over the threshold. I leave her and continue down the hall toward our bedroom.

Before meeting Sofia, I never intended to marry. I didn’t think it would suit me, too invasive a prospect. Joint accounts, shared phone plans? The mere thought of it had me double checking my privacy settings. But as it turned out, when it came time to defile the sanctity of our private lives in favor of a shared one, I was ready before she was. And when the woman you’re desperately in love with repeatedly turns down your offers of marriage, claiming it’ll complicate your business relationship, it gives you a lot of time to imagine how you’d do things given the chance.

For example, I’ve been dreaming up tonight for years: our first Valentine’s as a married couple. If she thinks a luxurious bath is extravagant, just wait until she sees what I’ve done in our bedroom. The gas fireplace is a trifle, a mere taste of what’s to come. I lengthen my stride and hurry down the hall to finish my setup.

Chapter 3

Sofia

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