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“Uh, the only male you’re taking licks from is me,” he said with a smirk, trying to lighten the mood.
“You know what I mean.”
“I do, but next time, tell me. This set us back a few days.”
“Yes, it did, but we can make it up. We’re not that far behind,” I assured him, pushing the covers off me to reveal my naked body. Oliver’s eyes traveled over me, desire replacing his earlier anger.
“I’m going to miss you,” I said, my voice filled with the familiar ache of impending separation.
“You know the answer to that,” Oliver replied, a small smile playing on his lips.
“Yes, I do. This is it for a while, except for the inspection of Fox Island.”
“We won’t be apart for that trip. I’m going with you,” he assured me.
“A few more weeks. The furniture is coming next week, and the finishing touches are being put on the property.”
“I can’t wait to see it,” I said excitedly.
“You can come to the inspection with me,” he offered.
“No. I want to be surprised on our honeymoon.”
“You will be,” he promised, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.
I stood up and stretched, heading towards the bathroom. With Oliver gone tonight, I planned to work out with Brad. Over the past few months, Brad had helped me get into incredible shape. My torso was now muscular, and my legs and arms were tight and defined. Oliver loved the transformation.
After a long, hot shower, I found my fiancé in the kitchen, drinking coffee and reading The Wall Street Journal. He looked striking in a black suit, pink shirt, and dark pink tie. I loved how he could pull off feminine colors with such confidence.
“Are you coming to the office with me?” I asked.
“Of course. My flight isn’t until 4 p.m.”
“And when will you be back?”
“Friday afternoon.”
“I’m working out with Brad this evening. I skipped yesterday,” I mentioned, hoping to deter him from trying to distract me.
“Come here,” he said, beckoning me over.
I padded over to him, and he turned in his seat, pulling me between his spread legs. His hand slid inside my pink robe, fondling my breast.
“Don’t,” I said, pulling away gently.
“Why not?”
“Because you know where it will lead.”
“You won’t have me for two days—this is your last chance,” he teased.
“I’ll survive. I have for the past few weeks,” I replied, backing away to make myself a latte.
Oliver continued reading the paper until I turned toward him with my mug in hand.
“Are you upset with me?” he asked, sensing my mood.
“A little,” I admitted.
