stiff ponytails. Visualizing a raggedy part in the back of her head, I cackle.
“My poor baby.”
I continue to read a few wink emojis and prayer emojis about borrowing my car before he says they walked.
“Gawd, this boy loves his phone.”
After a quick shower, I’m wearing a loose-fitting gray dress that hides my shape and falls to my calves. Moisturizer is my only form of makeup. I massage the cream into my cheeks, walking through the house. I can remember my mother had a vanity, expensive makeup overflowing, yet she never looked any prettier than the days she forwent the glamor.
In the kitchen, I stop at the Keurig, pressing a few buttons for specialty coffee.
“Look at ye, wearing that ugly arse muumuu. I oughta snatch it off ye and take a match to it,” a familiar voice gripes.
Lips curved into a smile, the excess fabric of my dress whirls with me as I turn around. I gaze into the eyes that reflect my very own love story. The invisible thread that tethers us together, no matter how far or near, tugs at my soul. Struggling to contain my excitement, I quietly exclaim, “You’re here!”
He nods.
“What are you doing here?” I murmur. A sharp strain suddenly stretches across my chest, and I’m missing him like crazy. This can’t be real. It’s midweek, not Friday, when I spend an hour in the mirror, waiting forever for my husband to return. Though I never craved attention until the single second that I savored Leith’s, I’m gutted in half by emotion. The emotion of falling in love with Leith MacKenzie every single time my eyes land on his. For the most part, I compress the fierce love I have for him. Leith seems to read my mind when he speaks.
“Okay, lass, this is an illusion then.” He moves his palms in front of the gorgeous marbling of his sharp jaw. “A holographic image of Leith MacKenzie who, by the way, is still infuriated that he misses his hen while in Silicon Valley.”
Crimson firecrackers erupt in my heart. I laugh. “Shut up, Leith.”
“Holographic Leith’s not preset to take orders, lass. But ye could probably get ‘em to shut up the good auld fashion way.”
My walls squeeze together in delicious torment as my husband descends on me, tall and broad-shouldered. Instead of cowering, I grin at his threat.
“My dick. Yer mouth, hen.”
Rising to my tippy toes, I brush my lips across his in a slow, drawn-out kiss while my heartbeat rages against his chest. The instant I draw back from Leith, I sigh, fighting the addiction to touch him again. The pulsating drumbeat of my sex causes dark, wayward visions to flash across my eyes.
“Your dick, my mouth? I assumed that’s how we silence me, Leith. You’re more reserved when all my honey is in your mouth. Now, stop being crass. Cam might return with Mia at any time.”
“Och.” His voice is gruff, dropping in tenor and epitomizing sex itself. “I better feck ye so good ye scream at the top of yer lungs. The American’s a smart one. Cam will know to turn about when he hears ye.”
Drowned by undeniable desire, I lick my lips. “Sounds like a challenge. You’ll make me scream, hmmm?”
His hands drop along my curves, fingertips gliding at my sides. “So, hen, with the big arse mouth, ye gonna stop me now?”
I shake my head no, as he peppers my neck with kisses. Caught in the rapture of him, we let our reality crash down around us. The only thing left is Leith and I. Moans are coaxed from my mouth by his soft, teasing lips. My flesh aches for my husband as his fingers manipulate and love on me.
“Leith, I need you so bad right now,” I murmur in his mouth. “But be good, baby. Please take this challenge to the bedroom.”
The gravel of his “nae” vibrates across my flesh, sending goosebumps on the rise. My husband yanks me into his arms and onto the counter. The material pools around my thighs. Damn, this dress isn’t cute at all, yet the soft cotton calls to me when Leith’s away.
“Hey, I’m being sweet as pie right now, Leith.”
“So sweet.” His fingers move along the inside of my thigh, weakening my tenacity. Vulnerable, I clamp my legs together, hiding the sticky arousal. My walls squeeze into a sharp Kegel, alleviating the agony of need. Leith grips my knees with one hand, exerting enough power to pull them apart while claiming the curve of