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And besides—
He needs to do it now. Before we both have far less time.
He shakes his head. "Worse."
"What could be worse?"
"Laurel and Rome's flight got in early. They're almost here."
"How could a flight into JFK get in early?" Doesn't that defy the laws of space and time? Anytime I've flown into JFK early—and I've done it a lot now, between trips back home and work trips—I've had to sit there, in the airplane, as we taxied.
And I thought LAX was a bad airport.
"They'll be here in ten minutes," he says.
"I can make that work." I tug at his tie.
He smiles in that pure evil way of his. The way that meansI'm going to torture you forever. "I can't."
I shoot him an exaggerated pout. "You'd deny your wife?"
"I get off on denying my wife. You know that, princess." This time, he pulls me into a long, slow kiss.
"Five minutes," I negotiate.
He shakes his head.
I take matters into my own hands. I sit on the bed, roll the chemise to my waist, and touch myself.
Like he always does, he stands there, eyes wide, body tuned to mine, throbbing with desire and endless patience.
He watches.
I come for his viewing pleasure.
It's fast.
Too fast.
And not satisfying enough. I only want him more. But I love playing this game with him too. I love this life we're building.
His firm. My career as a sex researcher. And soon—
His phone buzzes. "They're out front."
"You should wash up."
He nodsI know. "Do you think they've killed each other yet?"
"He might be dead, yeah," I say. "But you'll help Laurel bury the body."
"I would, normally," he says. "But I'm not sure you can spare me anymore."
"You're a lawyer. You know how to get away with it."
He smiles and pulls me into a long, slow kiss.
All love and affection and need and promise.
