Page 72 of Worth the Vow

“The theme is the bed.”

Kate lets out a high-pitched squeak. “An interesting theme.”

“I agree,” I tell her, dipping my head to skim my nose along her neck. “But I bet you’re secretly hoping you lose.”

“N — no,” she stammers, as my tongue darts out to touch the divot in her body where her neck meets her shoulder. “I like to win.”

Dragging my tongue up her neck, I feel the goosebumps pop in my wake. “Pretty sure we both win in my case. But it doesn’t matter, because I definitely win, in more ways than one.”

“How so?” she asks. Unaware that I’ve been slowly sliding my hands around to her ass, she yelps when I grab her and pull her into my lap.

“Last year, I asked if you’d be willing to reorganize the kitchen.” Kate stiffens to stone in my lap, and I chuckle against her ear. She knows exactly where I’m going with this. “You agreed. Remember?”

“No.”

“Liar. You started one day by removing everything, then seemed to either lose interest or went off on another tangent, and the kitchen sat, untouched, for over a week.”

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” she murmurs. I slide my hand up her back and into her hair, winding it around my fist, and pulling her head back, giving me more access to her neck and décolletage. I suck briefly on her pulse point, feeling it go berserk against my lips.

“Oh, really? You don’t remember this at all? You don’t remember me giving you a deadline for the kitchen, telling you I wouldn’t pay you for the task if you didn’t finish the job?”

“That may sound somewhat familiar,” she growls, but the growl turns to a whimper when I scrape my teeth along her collarbone.

“Ahh. Then I’m sure this will jog your memory.” I wait a moment, feeling Kate holding her breath, before I continue. “You superglued all the lids to my protein powders closed, you added salt to my oatmeal, and you switched out all the healthy cereals with the high-sugar kind, but kept the original boxes so I wouldn’t know until I poured them out.”

“I still will never forget the look on your face when that protein powder container basically exploded when you tried to manhandle it into opening,” she cackles. “If looks could kill — wait! How did you know all of that? I didn’t tell a soul!”

I cluck my tongue in a tsk-tsk sound. “My dear, sweet, innocent Katharine. Did you really think I wouldn’t have a nanny-cam on your ass from the moment you took on this job?”

“Are you fucking serious?” she explodes, but I don’t let her finish. I flip her over so she’s on her back, and I’m hovering above her.

“I could assume that was just you lashing out. That my ultimatum made you do those things. But that’s not the case, is it?”

“God dammit,” she mutters. “The nanny-cam has sound, doesn’t it?”

“It sure does.” I don’t have to tell her how the cam caught her mouthing off to me every day. Instead, I just slam my mouth on hers, effectively shutting both of us up.

What Kate doesn’t know is how I’d lie in bed at night, watching the footage, and almost every night that week, I’d jack off to her. Hearing her bratty attitude just made me so turned on. It wasn’t the first time I’d flown solo to thoughts of Kate, and it certainly wasn’t the last.

While Kate momentarily is shocked into submission, she quickly wraps her legs around me and pushes her tongue between my lips. I groan into her mouth as her velvety tongue leisurely circles mine. Kate slides her hands into my hair, grabbing it harshly, and the pain only makes me harder. I’m so turned on I think I could handle anything she throws at me.

“Bed,” I mutter as I rise to my knees, holding Kate against me. I quickly stand, stalking out to the bedroom, and toss her onto the bed.

“The door!” she hisses, her eyes wide with panic.

“They’re at Luca’s.”

“What?”

“The kids. They’re at Luca’s tonight.” I stand above her, drinking in the sight. Kate’s hair is in disarray, her cheeks rosy, and her lips swollen from our kiss. Legs open, I catch a glimpse of pristine white panties beneath her shorts, and I’m desperate to see what’s beneath them. I’ve always thought she was beautiful, but like this? Jesus Christ. She’s a damn vision. My wife no longer looks broken and devastated. Instead, she looks like a powerful goddess, and I’m ready to worship at her altar like she deserves.

“Did you plan this?” Kate asks suddenly.

“Plan what?” I ask as I reach behind my head to grab ahold of my shirt and rip it off. “Did I plan on seducing you tonight? No. I planned on taking care of you, however was needed. This is just a bonus.”

“What happens when —”

I cut off her. “If.”

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