Page 179 of Be My Wife

“You don’t have to work—”

“But I want to.” She sets her hand on my leg. “I especially like being at my desk and staring at the boss when no one’s looking.” She licks her lips. Strokes a circle on my thigh. “I like thinking about what I’m going to do to him when we get home…”

I drop my fork.

Elizabeth chuckles and puts it back in my hand. “But mostly, I like having my independence.”

“When we have kids—”

“When we have kids,” she says, still smiling, “I’ll consider staying home. I’m happy like this for now.” Elizabeth gestures to my plate and arches both eyebrows.

I eat with one hand and caress her with the other. We talk about her family, Steph, my mom and the latest office gossip. We joke about Levy’s new hair-cut and discuss her Uncle Kevin’s decision to pursue his reggae artist career in Jamaica. The hours zoom by as we contentedly enjoy each other’s company.

That’s another facet of marriage to Elizabeth that was unexpected. She has truly become my best friend. I can talk to her about anything and she never fails to make me smile.

After dinner, we cuddle on the couch—my arms around her waist, her trim legs tangled in mine—watching a movie.

“Feed me,” Elizabeth demands, opening her mouth without tearing her eyes off the television.

I toss popcorn into her mouth. She munches happily while I brush her hair away from her face and kiss her cheek.

Her skin is soft beneath my fingertips.

Her eyes are two black diamonds.

Damn.

I love her.

My lips find her ear.

I kiss the fleshy part of her lobe gently.

Then I nibble on it.

She makes a sound deep in her throat.

“You like that?” I growl.

“Brogan,” Elizabeth murmurs, her voice already sounding breathless, “focus.”

“I am focusing.”

She flashes me a look. “On the movie.”

“That you’ve seen a thousand times already?” My hand slips under her shirt. Caresses the smooth brown skin.

Up.

Up.

There.

She gasps, still trying hard to maintain her firm stance despite the way her body’s arching against me. “Brogan… Brogan, we’re just… getting to the good part.”

I lower her down into the couch. “Oh, baby, I know.”

Elizabeth abandons all arguments as I grab her thighs and wrap them around me. Her hair lying flat on the couch and her eyes brimming with desire, she rakes her fingers down my beard.

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