Page 4 of A Very Grumpy Father's Day
“Eleven thirty p.m.” She smirks. “I think this one is my favorite.”
“God, I miss you. I miss you and the baby so much. Give our baby a kiss for me. No, three kisses. Give her ten kisses and tell her they’re from me. Wait. Wait. If she wakes up, put this on speakerphone and play it for her.”And then I cleared my throat and sang. “Hush, little baby, don’t say a word. Daddy’s gonna buy you a mockingbird. And if that mockingbird don’t sing, Daddy’s gonna buy you a diamond ring.”Muffled sounds of me swearing at my cousins.“And if that diamond ring is brass, Daddy’s gonna buy you a looking glass. And if that looking glass gets broke, Daddy’s gonna buy you a billy goat. And if that—”I hear Billy yammering in the background.“BillyGOAT, you dumbass! Did it look like I was singing to YOU?! I gotta go, Cooper. Love you. Don’t let the baby hear the part where I yelled.”
She pushes out her lower lip, but her wicked brown eyes are sparkling with delight. “Eleven fifty-seven p.m.”
“Babe. I just played ‘Heart and Soul’ on the piano with Jon Bon Jovi. We’re taking a helicopter back to the city. Wait— Billy, get out of the pool—we gotta go! Fuck. Sorry. I’ll try to be home by three.”
“And finally…two fifteen a.m.” She winks at me.
I used to love it when she winked at me. Not so much right now.
“They won’t stop stepping on it. Hey! Don’t step on that! Somebody could have eaten that. Have some respect, man. Just because it’s on the ground doesn’t mean it’s not food. Why are they? …Hey, get away from that, you dick. Did somebody lose a hot dog? Hey. Hey! Get away from there! Fuck you, man! Watch where you step—there’s a hot dog there, you dick!Youfuck off! Not you, babe. Shit. I’m so tired. I’m coming home, Maddie. I will be home before sunrise. I just want to go home.”
Yeah.
I can’t bounce back from that.
My grinning wife locks her screen and places the phone on top of the dresser before turning back toward me and mirroring me by crossing her arms in front of her ribs again. That move pushes her voluptuous breasts up so I can see even more cleavage. She is Evil incarnate, and my devastatingly handsome face should have been all up in there for the past five minutes. Instead, my face is still numb and trying to assemble itself into a grinning, cocky mask of indifference.
Fuck this.
The dry spell ends now.
Come. What. May.
I stride over to the door with all of the swagger I have left in me, close it, go over to my wife, cup the back of her head with one hand and her ass with the other. I kiss her so hard and deep she won’t remember anything except that I am a man and she is my woman.
And just like that, her hands are exploring my chest, my face, my hair, frantically searching for something she’s just remembered she’d lost. She groans when I squeeze her ass and position my thigh between her legs so she can rock back and forth against me. Her right hand finds my hard length and strokes it over my jeans.That’s my girl.“Baby…” Now I really feel like I’m coming home. I kiss her until she’s breathless. Until she is furious with the kind of rage that is only experienced by a woman who is forced to admit that she can’t resist one man in particular. The one she can’t live with and the one she can’t live without.
She nips at my lower lip twice and pulls back. “Dammit, Dec.”
I lift her up by her waist and place her ass down on the dresser. Her legs wrap around my waist, and I tug on her ponytail, kissing her neck where it meets her shoulder. Massaging her hip the way she likes it. Her fingernails dig into my back as she gasps and sighs. She arches and wriggles around and goes limp for a second before grabbing my face and guiding my mouth to hers again. She sucks on my tongue and then licks me from my stubbled chin across my jawline to my earlobe. She kisses my cheek and then bites my shoulder. She is ravenous and crazed, and this is the kind of surprise twist that will keep me madly in love with her until the end of time.
It has always been right there beneath the surface, this stormy passion.
All we ever need is the time and the space to access it.
“Take off that shirt.”
She raises her arms in the air. “Youtake it off.”
I do. I take it off, toss it aside, and bury my face in the mounds of her glorious, heaving tits.
“I’m still mad at you,” she moans.
“Good. I want you to take it out on my cock.”
“Great. I want you to take your cock out.”
“God, I love you.” I unzip my jeans.
Just when I think I could not adore or desire this woman any more, she slides off the dresser, turns her back to me, grips the edge, and sticks out her round, beautiful ass.
“Marry me,” I say.
“Hurry up,” she replies.
I reach for the waistband of her sweatpants, and the next thing I want to hear is my wife screaming my name while I ram in and out of her.
