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His honesty was completely charming. See? Wasn’t this better than arguing? Oh, wait, that was his point, not mine. Shit, I guess that meant he was on to something with not wanting to dig into a topic he was convinced would set us off.
We sat in silence while our tea steeped, and some of the edginess dissipated into the atmosphere while the calming chamomile scent wafted up from my cup. I put my face directly over the mug and inhaled deeply. When I looked up from my personal aromatherapy session, Carmen was studying me closely.
Instead of barking the first thing that came to mind, I gave him a soft smile. This one was genuine, and I had a serious hunch he could already spot the difference. Even though I knew the brew would still be too hot, I had to busy myself with something to escape his attention. So I took a sip and immediately regretted it.
“Shit! Hot, so hot!” I patted my bottom lip, hoping to calm the sting.
Carmen was right beside me in a flash. “Let me see,” he instructed and pulled my hand away from the burn. He ducked down lower to get a good look and then surprised me by gently kissing me. Instantly I wanted more. There was undeniable physical chemistry between us, and the man’s kisses were like an addictive drug. I looped my arms around his neck to hold him close a little longer. He soothed my bottom lip with his tongue before plunging in for a full kiss.
When we parted, we were both grinning.
“Better?” he asked.
“Hmm, I’m not sure. You may have to check again.” I smiled bigger and sneaked a quick wink his way. I shouldn’t have been surprised when he pulled me to my feet after that bold invitation.
Our height difference was so stark when I was barefoot, so my husband effortlessly lifted me to sit on the island between our cups of tea. He pushed between my legs and bent to kiss me again, and I was happy to oblige.
“You’re like a little doll,” he said in a low, grumbly voice.
“Is that right?”
“Absolutely.”
“Were boys allowed to play with dolls in your house?” I teased and searched his eyes for a clue about what he had planned.
“Hell no!” He laughed and slid my ass to the granite’s edge so he could press against me while he plundered my mouth. Jesus, I’d let the man fuck me right here if he wanted. That last kiss was so fucking hot, I whimpered when we parted.
“Your mouth is like a lethal weapon,” I told him.
“So many compliments today, Mrs. Sandoval. Careful, or I’ll get a big head.”
There was some kind of sassy innuendo waiting to be organized in that response, but my head swam with endorphins. I couldn’t care to be witty.
“Our tea’s getting cold,” I finally said for no apparent reason.
I didn’t want to stop what we were doing in exchange for sipping tea, but once again, Carmen left me twisted and jumbled and not making much sense. He definitely had some thrall over me I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Maybe then I’d be better at warding him off.
Or at least that’s what I would do with any other guy. But I was really starting to think he and I had the start of something special here. Maybe if I plugged in and gave our relationship more of an honest effort, we could make this work. I knew I’d been halfheartedly fighting it since we met, even before we were reckless newlyweds.
But what did that look like for a girl like me? I wasn’t sure I was cut out for domestication; I certainly wasn’t the June Cleaver type of woman.
I wanted a meaningful career and time to myself. Currently I was striking out hard on the first one and had an overabundance of the second while my husband went to work all day. Of course, that’s what my own mother did her whole life, but I knew from early on, I’d need more out of each day than changing diapers and wiping up juice spills.
And I got it—for some women, that was a dream come true. Husband who adored them, stay home and raise the children in your own style, not by the head of curriculum at the local day care and on the monthly occasion, lunch with the girls to keep some semblance of social capability.
Yeah…not for me at all.
Maybe that was the conversation Carmen and I needed to have before any other. If we had different end goals for this marriage, we were just wasting our time here.
“Hey, where did you go?” My husband was watching me in that scrutinizing way he did.
“Sorry, a million thoughts at all times,” I said while tapping my temple. I’d tried explaining this to him before when he busted me faking an orgasm. My brain worked in a way I always thought to be different from most other people.
“You seemed very pensive all of a sudden.” He chuckled. “And here I was trying to remember if you had panties on or not.”
I shook my head and laughed. Such a guy thing to say.
But now that he’d introduced the topic, why not tease him a little? Pointedly, I looked down at my lap, and he followed my stare. When I started inching the T-shirt I wore up my thighs, he let out an audible groan.
