She shifted against him and he jerked.
He looked as if he tried peel his eyelids open but she was pretty sure he was already mostly asleep.
“Let me get a washcloth and I’ll clean you up this time, then I’m gonna shower. I’d ask you to join me but I’m pretty sure you’d fall over and I’m not strong enough to haul your butt back in here if you bite it.”
“I could make it.” His words slurred together, and she was pretty sure he was fully asleep before she even made it into the bathroom.
She came back in with a warm cloth and gently washed his mouth and his hands, then his cock and balls. It was a true testament to how tired he was that he never even moved.
Staring at him, she wondered how she’d survived without him. What had she done before him? Who had she told all her stuff to? Her dreams? Her fears?
He was her everything, even when things weren’t…perfect.
She wandered back into the bathroom and turned on the hot water.
It only took a couple of minutes to do the rest of her nighttime routine and wrap her hair up into a less messy bun. Stepping under the hot water, she let the heat and steam loosen her stiff muscles.
Alone beneath the spray, her control slipped a bit and her emotions leaked out. She made fists against the wall and locked her jaw down to keep them in check as best she could.
Her ex-boyfriend had rewired part of her head when they’d been together, and she struggled sometimes in processing her feelings. She’d associated emotions with something negative for so long it was second nature, so she tended to shy away from them at all costs.
Then they tended to erupt, which scared her even worse.
She’d been raised by her no-fuss grandparents, who’d provided for her, but the love and affection hadn’t been very apparent. She’d never known her father, and her mother had terminated her rights when Child Protective Services had pushed the issue after having to get involved more than a handful of times.
Tabitha didn’t really remember her mother much. Just bits and pieces. But she’d survived and gotten a scholarship to college because of good grades. She was smart and liked math. Being a CPA came naturally to her. Being successful had taken her longer to wrap her head around, but she’d made her grandparents proud. After she was out on her own her grandparents hadn’t lasted long. They’d died within months of each other. Natural causes for both, but it had hit her hard because they had been all the family she’d had left.
Right after they’d both passed, she’d met the ex. It hadn’t been a healthy relationship, and she’d let it change her.
With Michael, she was better. He loved her and never made her feel less than when it came to being emotional with him. No matter how much time had passed, it was still a daily struggle. Even a handful of years later, she had to fight the urge to shut down. Her husband likened it to an addiction to alcohol or drugs. Shoving her emotions into a box made her feel safe. It helped her cope.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t something she could walk away from like a bottle of bourbon. Her feelings weren’t as easily gotten rid of or poured down the drain. She knew exactly how devastating addiction could be. She’d watched an uncle lose his battle with alcoholism when she was in high school.
They didn’t make a twelve-step program for her with catchy sayings or a coin.
Michael was all of that for her. It had taken her years to depend on him, trust him.
But lately he’d been so preoccupied she’d felt off-balance. More than once.
She hadn’t admitted it. Not out loud. Sure as hell not to him.
Why would she have wanted to?
Pulling some kind of Chicken Little freak-out every time one of her triggers was brushed up against didn’t do it for her. Not anymore. She did not like revealing her weaknesses. Ever.
Being strong on her own was sometimes too hard.
Standing beneath the spray of the water, no matter how hard she tried to get warm, cold fear crept in.
Things had always righted themselves before between herself and Michael. Always.
Until a few months or so before.
She’d wanted to know how much Michael was really paying attention. It was something that had always made her feel so special. And important. Treasured. Something she’d all of a sudden realized she’d been missing.
Bending the rules wasn’t something she did to be mean or vindictive.
He had always been so on it when they were dating and for the first few years of their marriage.
It had been perfect until he’d branched off to start his own design and construction firm.
That was when everything changed.
And for the first time in their life together, he’d disappointed her. It wasn’t big stuff. Not really. But she’d worn panties when he’d been home from work one night and he hadn’t even noticed. Not even when she walked in front of him half naked, stripping the scrap of fabric off.
Not even the date with Wes tonight. She was supposed to give Michael at least twenty-four hours’ notice of any sex date she had planned. Tonight? Twenty hours. She’d only given him twenty hours. She’d broken the rules and he hadn’t even noticed.
It was all small things, tiny in the scheme of life, she thought as she let the water wash off her makeup.
But she’d grown to rely on the rules. To her they weren’t funny. They were utterly important to her emotional balance, which made her feel stupid, but she couldn’t depend on them any less.
There was even one about texting to let him know when she was leaving somewhere. Where she was going. When she arrived safely. Again, it had started as a joke but she’d done it. Without fail. Without question. Then he’d started not responding each time. So twice in the last few days she hadn’t sent him the messages checking in.
It made her sick to her stomach, but she’d wanted to know if he’d really noticed her absence. He hadn’t. He just…hadn’t.
With a 24/7 dynamic such as theirs, trust and open communication were the only things that could keep it alive and thriving. Lately, she’d begun feeling a bit like a fraud.
Panic welled inside her but she tamped it down, burying the emotion as deep as she could.
She’d always thought they were on the same page. They had the same philosophies and desires. Other things she’d never discussed with him that made her feel special. Loved. Because she just assumed he knew how important they were. Writing them down made them real to her and so he was never far from her. Different colors of pen on a little folded piece of paper—they were like a shield to protect her.
Things he did seemingly automatically but she could look at on the paper and remember how amazing he was and how he loved her completely. And how she needed that attention. She’d grown to depend on it, and it scared her so much.
She turned the water off, shaking her head at the labyrinth of reasoning she’d thrown herself into. Getting dry didn’t take long but she just didn’t seem to be able to get warm. Taking out the clip in her hair, she tried to shake off the panic crawling through her body. She set the clip on the bathroom counter and killed the light.
She walked through the bedroom and went quickly downstairs to turn off the lights there too. She was certain Wes had locked the door but she checked, anyway. Locked.
One last light switch and the kitchen fell into darkness.
Passing the counter by the back door, she had to resist the urge to pull out their rules. That was what she’d always called them, but lately she’d started thinking of them as her rules. That made her sad, and another connection to them seemed to slip through her fingers.
If he’d just worked longer hours then she didn’t think she’d feel so lost, but it was more than that. Much more. It seemed as if everything was changing. Everything.
Change wasn’t bad, not in theory at least.
It didn’t take her long to go up the stairs and into their bedroom. She crawled into bed and turned out the last lamp on her nightstand.
Micha
el reached over and pulled her into the safety of his body. He held her close, breathing in her hair. “Love you.”
Tears threatened as she wrapped his arm tighter around her and snuggled against him beneath the covers.
She didn’t know how to fix it yet. She couldn’t even figure out how to broach the subject. But she’d figure it out. She had to. Or their marriage and everything they’d built was doomed to fail.
Chapter Four
Michael
Talk about being busy as fuck at work. Not a little bit here and there. More like a fuck ton of shit that just keeps piling on and on and…
With no end in sight, he couldn’t have been happier. The business kept finding him, which made Michael feel as if he had balls the size of NYC.
That was what he got for breaking off and starting his own firm.
Little had he known that almost all of his clients would come with him. Several incredibly prolific clients, such as Wes.
If he’d known how successful he would be, he’d probably have left a year earlier.
Best part?
Being so busy.
Worst part?
Being so busy.
As always, he’d already spent several hours that morning out on two of his current construction sites. His crew chiefs were right on schedule, which kept the clients happy and coming back for more. Best guys he could have hired, hands down.
He almost felt bad for hiring them away from his former employer. Almost. But the guys seemed happier than he’d seen them in years. Himself included.
So busy was something he just had to manage.
Daily.
‘Busy keeps you out of trouble, boy.’ His father’s voice preaching at him cropped up at the most inopportune times.
His father was a piece of work. A grade-A asshole with a side order of narcissistic prick. Unfortunately, he had also been a single dad. Michael’s mom had died having him. Well, a couple weeks afterward, from complications. He’d always missed her, wondering what things could have been like if she’d been around.
He’d never asked if his dad blamed him for his mom’s death. The answer had been incredibly easy to find all on his own.
Michael had always been thankful he didn’t have any siblings. He wouldn’t have wished his father on anyone else. Not even on a brother or sister to share the burden of being his legacy.
His earliest memory was of his old man smacking him on the back of the head when he’d handed him the wrong kind of screwdriver.
He’d been probably four at the time.
Bonding with his father had consisted of Michael being told to bring him another beer when he got home from working a double.
Nothing he did was good enough. Everything he attempted was stupid. Nothing ever met his father’s approval. Except when he moved out. That, his father had said he appreciated, since he’d been tired of taking care of a freeloader. Him getting a scholarship to college, straight As, and working part-time in high school apparently hadn’t been good enough.
‘Drawing buildings and putting them up can be done by anybody. It won’t get you anywhere.’ Some days that endless loop played in his head and he pushed even harder to kick ass.
There was only one thing he’d gotten from his father that was worth anything—his work ethic. He got up early, stayed late and did the best job on everything he endeavored to accomplish.
Hopefully Michael wasn’t a prick about it like his father, but he wanted to be a success. He wanted to make Tabitha proud, and build a firm he could pass down to their kids if they decided to have some.
His wife even helped him with the books when he needed it, but only when he asked. Talk about a smart chick. She did their taxes and invested extra, but they decided what to do together.
Always together.
Everything side by side.
He stood up from his desk and stretched his neck and shoulders. Oy. Too much sitting hunched over his drawing tablet for one morning. The civic center downtown was going to be incredible. He couldn’t believe his luck in having been recommended for the project. A friend of his on the city council had apparently been talking him up. He looked intently at the blueprints on the screen he’d been working on for several days. Almost done.
He stared into his coffee cup and tried to remember if he’d eaten lunch. His stomach growled in response. “No food. Got it.”
Unable to sit down again, he snagged his cup and headed to the small kitchen in the back. It was quiet inside the offices for once. He’d given everyone else the afternoon off, since they’d finished another huge project at Camp Lejeune the week prior. So, he’d told them all to go home and take it easy. He’d had every intention of just working a half day, too, but he had so much he needed to catch up on.
On the way to the kitchen there was a long hallway, lined with images of some of his projects. Each frame held two pictures—before and an after.
There wasn’t much more satisfying than seeing what he’d built with his own hands. Staring at the walls and rooms around him gave him more fulfilment than he’d thought possible in a job. He’d built the location he stood in. He’d designed it as a showroom and workspace. He stepped into the kitchen and smiled looking at his hot dog steamer and popcorn machine. Every time he saw them they made him happy. Just like Tabitha.
Mmm…
Hottest wife ever.
He rinsed out his mug and grabbed a flavored water out of the fridge along with the stuff to make a sandwich. He polished off two sandwiches and a mini bag of chips before he slowed down.
After unscrewing the cap on his water, he drank deeply and closed his eyes with satisfaction.
That adage about loving a job will mean never working a day in your life? It couldn’t have been more true.
Having a reputation to be proud of was worth a lot.
Word of mouth sending him winning bid after winning bid made his dick hard.
Getting to prove his dad wrong was priceless.
He actually hadn’t even wanted to tell his father anything about the new company. There was only one time a year he called him, and it took some serious convincing from Tabitha to do even that.
His old man’s birthday.
Michael had waited a couple years to make sure the company was going to do well, and it had more than tripled in profit from the first to second year, so he’d told him all about it.
The conversation had gone about how he’d expected.
A grunted hello, grousing about why he never called, snide remarks about not getting any younger. Yeah. He was a real winner.
Then Michael had dropped the bomb about Graves Design and Construction. Been going almost two years. Amazing. Profitable. Growing. Staff to help him. Supportive and beautiful wife. Amazing house. Amazing life. He was happy and wished he could be the same.
The guy had been speechless.
It was the first time probably in his whole life his father seemed unable to think of anything to say.
Michael had laughed and wished him a happy birthday, then told him he had to go. His father had stammered a goodbye and that had been that.
If it hadn’t been for Tabitha urging him to call, he never would have.
He’d never have had the satisfaction of proving him wrong. He didn’t need the words that he was proud of him. Those words would never come and he was okay with that.
Why?
Because the only one who mattered was his wife.
His hot wife.
His property.
His submissive.
He headed to his office and sat back down, adjusting his cock beneath his slacks since he’d thought about his Tabby.
An ache settled inside him because he’d gone all morning and part of the afternoon without seeing her. He’d gotten up and showered and had been out before her alarm had gone off.
He missed the mornings he’d wake her up with his head between her thighs. Fuck, he loved her coming on his mouth to start the day. Or she sucked him off to get him out
of bed. Best. Alarm. Ever.
The extra time they’d spent away from each other had been hard on both of them, but he knew she’d always be there for him. For them. And it was for them because everything he did he ran through the filter of making their lives better. Easier.
No man had loved a woman more than he loved Tabitha.
None.
He glanced at his clock and checked his texts from Tabby. She’d asked him to come home for dinner by seven. That gave him five and a half more hours to work before he had to leave. For a date kind of dinner.
Hell, yes.
Her cooking? Out of this world good. If she didn’t love being a CPA so much he’d have suggested to her long ago to become a chef. She could open a restaurant in a city with a population of ten and make it a success.
They were even taking a cooking class together every Saturday.
Then there was their sex life.
Sex, off the charts kind of tasty.
Luckiest man ever.
Her being a hot wife? Fucking other men because he said she could? Having the control to take it away at any time? So delicious.
Sharing his favorite toy was deliciously dirty, but knowing she was still his toy? Fuck.
Nothing compared to it.
It pushed all of his buttons. Several buttons that he didn’t even have names for. But he didn’t have to explain them because Tabitha understood all of them.
She was perfect for him.
She’d been waiving their lines a bit lately. Nothing big enough for him to actually say anything about, but he’d definitely been aware of them. Her wearing panties around him or the timing of the other night with Wes? It hadn’t been on the schedule as long as they’d agreed to.
Well…
He stared at the ceiling. At least he didn’t think so, but he may have forgotten to check their calendar for a day…or two. Ugh. Or a week.
Not to mention being pretty certain he’d seen her in panties a few evenings before, but she was literally the most amazing creature on the planet.
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