20
Arjen
Work had kept us busy and apart for the past five days, but it didn’t stop me from missing Mecca. She would drag herself into the house, shower, and pass out after sharing a few words of how her day had gone.
I offered to do more, wanted to do more to help her, but understood her need to accomplish the goals of her organization in her own way and time. I didn’t want anyone dipping into the way I ran things and as much as I wanted to help her, I backed off because I understood.
Her presence alone had the power to make me come alive. Before Mecca, I was sleepwalking, navigating my living nightmare until she entered the picture and gave my life a spark, like the big bang, that many believed started everything, it was starting to feel like she had jump-started me.
I had foolheartedly convinced myself that Desiree was the woman for me, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. Mecca was a much better fit, the perfect fit.
My phone sounded, alerting a text.
“See you early tonight, husband.”
Her simple text caused a smile to light up my face and lift the heavy weight of my pressing mood as I always found myself stressing about her safety.
This was the first time she had sent me a text about coming home early. I was beginning to see us as a couple, and the idea didn’t scare me as much as I assumed it would. Not having her around was becoming my new nightmare.
There was nothing better than drawing her into my arms and sleeping with her tucked tight against me. I had hauled her into me last night and hadn’t released her, not even while I slept. She was up and gone by the time my eyes opened at six-thirty. Up early, and in late, she was averaging three hours of sleep a night.
I would have loved to be engaged in more of the explosive sex we made together, but I held back, allowing her the little rest she was allowing herself to get. Now, I understood her earlier attitude when she would come in, shower, and pass out. She wasn’t avoiding me like I had thought. She had just been tired.
The only night she had slept more than six hours was the night of our wedding after we had left the hospital. The best night we shared in our bedroom was the night we discovered that our chemistry was rare and so off the charts, we couldn’t get enough of each other.
She called it ‘the best fucking’ she’d ever had, but I was certain that I had taken my time, at the beginning of round one, and made love to her. However, our second, third, and fourth times were straight fucking as we had gone at it like animals. Her body was capable of inciting joy, and her pussy must have been laced with fairy dust, because I had never felt a greater pleasure in my life.
Every facet of her was a glorious undertaking, like learning the intricacies of what made up a butterfly. Mecca’s beauty was undeniable but being blessed with more insight into the depth of her, made me appreciate her more and see her as more than just a pretty thing.
A few hours before she was set to come home, I decided to put a little surprise together for her. My phone pinged, alerting that she was entering the gate. I glanced at the image of her on my phone driving up to the house and around to the garage. My shower had been a quick one before I entered our bedroom to throw some clothes on.
A pair of loose-fitting jeans and a nice polo shirt were appropriate for dinner. Thankfully, she had no complaints about the way I dressed, as she had seen me casual and smart and had complimented my appearance both times.
The double chirp of the alarm indicated her entering the house through the garage. I ran down the stairs, as jubilant as a child expecting Santa for the first time. She hadn’t been home before six o’clock but a few other times. Therefore, I saw this time as a gift.
The first sight of her stopped me. A baby-blue fitted dress, sleek, classy, and hitting all the right spots. Low cut, but flirty, not trashy. She knew her body well. Knew how to dress to entice and not be overtly sexy.
Her hair was bone straight, stretching past her shoulders, the thick strands bounced with volume as she tossed a few runaway tresses across her shoulder. Today, her straight hair showed off beautiful purple highlights that flirted with the lighting and played up her skin tone perfectly. She may have been busy running a drug empire, but she took care of her appearance, a quality about her I appreciated.
The way you presented yourself to a group was as important as what you required of them. In that dress, she appeared to have just taken control of her competitor’s company.
The pace of her steps slowed when she noticed that I stood in the living room waiting, but the click of those sexy gold heels didn’t stop until she had parked herself in front of me. A light dusting of dark eye shadow played up those flirty eyes that she dragged over me with enough seductive energy to make my breath catch.
“Husband,” was her greeting, and one I was starting to like as she made it sound like a term of endearment.
“Wife,” I returned. I enjoyed this little cat and mouse game we were playing with our attraction for one another. We wanted each other. The need seeped from us each time we were in the same room together, producing a heady mix that opened our untamed desires.
I lowered my face to hers until my lips possessed her soft ones. Nothing short of magic laced our kiss, at first tender until it deepened, and her tongue sought mine. A few wanting pecks followed the kiss, but it wasn’t enough. I was thirsty for so much more.
“I made you dinner,” I stated, stomping down my need, not wanting to appear too desperate.
“You?” Her brows lifted, highlighting the reluctance to the notion of me preparing her a meal. After placing my hand on her lower back, I urged her towards the dining room, talking as we walked.
“There is a lot about me you don’t know. I cook quite well, in my opinion. Although, I have to admit, I’ve never cooked for anyone except myself and my brother.”
“What did you make me?” she questioned, warming up to the idea as her quick gaze scanned the area.
“We will be having Beef Wellington, with my world-famous smothered asparagus and spinach gratin.”