Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Within seconds, my cell dings, and I smile at the fact that he responded so quickly. Like he mentioned last night, it feels like we’re dating again. Over a decade later and I just got the same butterflies I remember feeling when we first started getting to know each other. They’d set off in a swarm in my belly, flapping their wings and tickling my heart every single time my phone would go off with a text from him.
But then it occurs to me the notification chimed on my phone but not the computer, so I pick it up to check what I received. When I read what it is, my smile returns and grows even wider. Those few seconds were all it took, and my husband had already purchased the mask from the listing.
I click on the message from our banking app and see there’s a note attached. It’s only two little four-letter words, but they just hit different than all the others.
Good girl.
My smile turns into a full-blown grin as I sink back into the leather office chair and pull my knees up, wrapping the duster around my naked legs. I sit there in a little ball of glowing happiness for a minute, basking in the feeling as I stare at those two words for an embarrassing length of time. I am way too old to be getting so much out of being praised for following simple directions, but I don’t give a single fuck. Rome doesn’t just throw out that phrase at every opportunity. He saves it for when he really wants me to know I’ve done something that truly pleases him and has made him happier beyond any other words.
I let out a little laugh when I realize…
It makes me want to jump back on the website to find other little tidbits to send him. Not listings of things for him to buy me—hell, that note could’ve been attached to a stick of gum instead of that beautiful mask for all I care—but anything that would start that back and forth conversation we both crave from each other.
I shake my head, still smiling, my face warm. He knew exactly what he was doing.
I click on our text thread and type out a response, but before I send it, I have a different idea. I open my camera app and put it in selfie mode, grimacing at my image when it flips around. Extending the popsocket, I set my phone up against the computer monitor and get the timer ready. There’s absolutely nothing I can do about the state of my messy bun, but if I angle my head just so, it looks more like sex hair than swamp creature… and I tug the V-neck of his T-shirt down so a hint of my cleavage peaks out. I keep my legs up in the chair, showing off to the camera that I’m only wearing the panties he left on me last night when he put me to bed. I get the duster draped around me, and then I reach forward and push the button that starts the countdown.
I blow a kiss toward the camera just as the shutter goes off, and then I grab my phone to check the results. It looks awful to my eyes, but I can’t take the time to snap a million and one photos right now. I do a little bit of filtering so my skin doesn’t look so dull and my hair doesn’t look so greasy, and then without thinking too hard about it, I send it to Roman with a simple message of Thank you, Husband.
Those butterflies in my stomach pick up speed again with the instant gratification of the phone dinging.
Husband: God, you’re so fucking beautiful, baby. And you sent it to me so quick. Thank you for letting me see how perfect you look still wearing my shirt.
I get that glowy feeling again, but before I can respond, another text pops up.
Husband: Now, I need you to wait at least five minutes before sending me anything else, because I’ve gotta talk this raging hard-on down before my meeting or it’s going to be like I’m in middle school giving a presentation in front of the class with my fucking pants tented.
Me: Hopefully this doesn’t count. Have a good meeting <3
Husband: I’ll let that pass. Love you *kiss emoji
Me: I love you too
Husband: Savvy. *red grumpy face emoji
Husband: I let the other one pass, but you’re now continuing to make your photo pop up, which is not helping my hard-on situation. Not when I know how soaked those panties were for me last night.
I smirk, feeling a teensy bit of my bratty side wanting to come out and play. So I tell myself just one last text, and then I’ll be the good girl he just told me I was not five minutes ago.