Page 16 of Playing With Fire
He nods slowly, still processing, but not shutting me down.
“Okay…fine. Let’s give it a try,” he says reluctantly on a defeated, lackluster sigh.
I appreciate his willingness to do so, but his unease is causing mine to rise. He pulls the vibrator back out of the drawer and I go slip into the new lingerie piece from Deana.
“Lie back,” he instructs with no compliment at all on how the lacey lingerie fits when I come back into the room. I can tell he feels awkward as hell, but he’s trying, so I do as he says with no argument.
He clicks the button twice which causes the device to go straight to the high setting.
I still his hand as he lowers it toward my body, knowing thethin strip of my underwear won’t be enough to combat the high setting with no warm-up.
I squeeze his thumb which is still resting over the button to slow the whirring down.
“Okay, now what?” he asks.
Refusing to let my frustration over his lack of enthusiasm show, I grab his wrist and slowly move the toy up over my clit, then back down, then in circles. When I finally hit the on-ramp of my orgasm, Gregor speaks again. “What role do I play in this? I mean is this just for you?”
I must be married to the only heterosexual man who doesn’t enjoy watching his woman get off without having to put forth much effort. I’m frustrated that he thinks I would just let him to go to bed with a hard-on. I’m about to tell him I’m more than happy to get him off, but when I open my eyes and take him in, there’s no sign of arousal in him at all. His pupils aren’t dilated or glassy, there’s no tent in his trousers, his breathing hasn’t changed, there’s no flush in his cheeks.
I’m totally spread out for him and it elicits zero response. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt less desirable than I do right now. Sighing, I take the vibrator from him and toss it back in the drawer—it never even touched my skin.
“I guess that’s not really ever going to be your thing.”
“Probably not,” he agrees. “But I can get you there with this.” He rubs his still-soft shaft through his suit pants as if that’s supposed to put me in the mood.
My husband is attractive. He’s always put-together, has a full head of hair, a clean-shaven baby-face, and a decent physique. He has sharp, deep blue eyes and his appearance screams money and intelligence. But I’m noticing more and more, he’s lost the ruggedness he had from playing lacrosse in college—a passion we once had in common. Even his natural swagger and confidence seem to be masked by insecuritythese days, and in their place is a man who has become singularly focused on his career and his image… and I’m not even in the frame.
“Let’s just go to bed,” I offer.
I shouldn’t be surprised or disappointed, but when he simply shrugs a shoulder and kisses my cheek before turning into the bathroom with no argument, the petals of my heart wilt even further.
The next day, Serafina and I do the long trail at the lake because I have a plan for nap time today. I slept like shit and I hate how things went down between Gregor and I last night.
My husband seems to get farther away with each passing day, but he doesn’t even notice the rift growing between us. So this morning, after he left, I pulled out one of my favorite pieces of lingerie and steamed it. I purposely didn’t use the piece chosen by Deana because it’s time I take back some of the control, but I also want a redo. I want what last nightshouldhave been. I want to know my husband still wants me.
The fact remains I need physical intimacy in my marriage and I refuse to give that part of myself up.
I never thought I’d have to work so hard to entice my own husband, but desperate times call for desperate measures—and it’s growing increasingly clear that I’m desperate.
Serafina goes down easily and I’m getting more comfortable around her every day. Someone should tell new mothers how utterly terrifying it is to be alone with a kid this young all day. But I’m thankful that as she gets to know me and I her, we’re figuring it out together.
As soon as she’s asleep, I creep back down the stairs and into the kitchen where my strappy, satin lingerie awaits. I’m too excited about the response I hope to elicit so I strip right here and pull the straps of the sexy bodysuit up my thighs and over my shoulders. Thanks to the personal trainer I hired after Serafina was born, my stomach is almost back to where it was before pregnancy. Although it’s a little tighter in some places and doesn’t sit quite as perfectly as it once did, I acknowledge that it takes time and am appreciative for how far I’ve come.
The crimson color is my favorite and I hope to brighten Gregor’s day while also reminding him of what’s waiting for him at home and hoping he’ll meet me in the middle and show me he’s willing to fight for us.
Chapter 8
Hudson
Ipull into the familiar neighborhood and watch as the gates close behind me. On one hand, it’s like they’re trapping me in here. On the other hand, if this is home, I imagine it’s nice to feel like you’re physically shutting the rest of the world out.
There are several stops on my route today, and I can’t get over how fucking creepy I feel for having already checked to see if Shannon’s package requires a signature.
Much to my dismay, it doesn’t.
I briefly think about ringing the doorbell just to say hello, but that’s crossing a line. Mood soured, I pull into the driveway and grab the envelope from the bin next to me. I scan it and am walking up the brick stairs when I see a flash of movement in the living room just beyond the foyer.
Maybe she saw me and she’s going to open the door and say hello. It’s not on me if she opens the door first. It would be rude not to ask how she’s doing.
