Page 25 of A Promise For Tomorrow

“Goodnight, Liam.”

“Goodnight, Madison.”

The door creaks open slowly.She’s being careful not to disturb me. It’s dark in here, the room only illuminated by a small night light in the bathroom. I’m relaxing on the couch—but she can’t see me. Madison creeps towards the end of the bed where she left her bag and comes up empty. Confusion slaps her in the face knowing she left it there earlier. Watching the gears turn in that beautiful mind of hers, she starts to tiptoe to the walk-in.

A small gasp echoes the space as her hands come up to rest against her lips. All her clothes are neatly hung up or folded on top of the dresser below. Even her few pairs of shoes are lined up nicely on the shoe rack.Courtesy of yours truly.

A smug smile forms on my lips as I approach her. Quietly as a panther, I creep towards her. It’s almost 4 AM. Unpacking her luggage would allow her to get some rest before another busy day tomorrow. I made it my priority when I got back.

I’m about to sneak up behind her and sarcastically reprimand her for being out all hours of the night like some rebellious teenager when she starts to undress.

Fuuuuck, this woman is testing my control. I purposely took the couch so she would feel respected and not pressured to sleepwith me. On the other hand, I desperately wanted to hear her invite me to bed.

And if she didn’t, I’d find a way in it.

The feeling of her body wrapped against mine is not a memory I could ever forget. Every morning I wake up craving her, wishing I could reach out and run my hands over the curve at her waist or over the swell of her perfect ass. My palms itch to run through her silky hair. I want to be the one stirring her from sleep. Starting with a stolen kiss before having the privilege of watching her eyelids flutter to greet a new day.

But she’s been gone for a year and I’m sure this night was a huge trip down memory lane. My sweet wife might just want space.

From me.

From Liam.

From this whole clusterfuck of a day.

Black fabric cascades down her back as she slips it off her beautiful body. A nude strapless bra is next to go, followed by a strappy black thong.Coño. My wife is a fucking goddess. I send a silent prayer up to my mamá.Please help keep this woman in my life. I know I asked it once already, but I’m good at pushing my luck.So I’m asking again.

The exquisite view is quickly replaced by a pair of drawstring fleece pajama bottoms and her oversized university t-shirt. Either sensing my presence or needing the bathroom, she spins on her now bandaged foot. A squeak leaves her lips at the sight of me.

“You don’tlooklike a pumpkin…” I glance down at the skin where my watch normally sits.

Heat swarms her eyes and that one sassy eyebrow of hers arches. The soft palm of her hand lands flat against my chest as she shoves me back out of the closet. “Very funny.”

I step out of her way, allowing her to pass me. Only to follow her as she shuffles to the bathroom. Madison takes her place infront of the vanity and I lean against the doorframe, crossing my arms over my bare chest. Discovering her cosmetic bag, she retrieves her toothbrush and toothpaste and starts to vigorously brush her teeth.

“How is prince charming?” I snide.

The amber in her chestnut eyes always shines brighter when she’s mad. And right now? They are glowing like some ethereal being. The toothpaste foam coats her lush lips as she lets out a dramatic faux laugh.

“Ha. If you ever consider switching careers to become a comedian—pleasedon’t.”

She rinses her mouth, gathering her hair to one side of her neck before spitting into the sink. Isn’t it amazing how when you love someone, something as trivial as them brushing their teeth can become a beautiful work of art?

I want this moment captured and framed.

“How about I keep my title ofEl Rompe Huesos? Would that suit me better? Or would you run if you actually saw me in action?” I tap my lip with my index finger.

Dabbing a white hand towel at her lips she retrieves a makeup wipe and begins cleansing her face.

“I’ve seen you in action.” She shrugs indifferently.

“That wasnothing. However, if you’d like to reenact that scene where I strip you of your clothes with my knife while you are suspended from the ceiling—I’mabsolutelygame.”

Her face is now spotless and completely bare.Beautiful. Shuffling through her bag, she retrieves a serum bottle, pumps a few drops into her hands, and rubs them together before slathering her face.

“After the shock wore off and I realized you weren’t actually going to do anything, I really enjoyed it. Same goes for our wedding night.”

“Did you?” My voice has deepened with lust at her admission. “So you enjoy being restrained?” I ask, now intrigued.

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