He felt he owed her at least a warning. She had good reason to be a shade upset with him, after all. Standing a woman up for an intimate dinner at home, complete with candlelight, because he had become distracted at a horse sale wasn’t a good idea. Especially when he had been warned to be home on time. He hadn’t forgotten a damned thing. His control was just that shaky. He hadn’t dared show up on time.
She had waited up on him, too. Dressed in scarlet red silk, thigh-high stockings, and heels. She met him at the door, told him good night sweet as sugar, then went to bed.
His dinner had been in the oven. The candles had burned to nubs. She had obviously eaten. And he had managed, for one more night, not to mention the hungers tearing him apart.
“Touch my ass and you’ll lose your hand,” she informed him as she straightened and looked around the room with an expression of confusion. “That was my favorite comb, Mac.”
“Did you look under the cabinet?”
She had so much fussy female stuff in there that he sometimes wondered how she found anything.
“Of course I did.” She shot him a frown that warned him he should have already known that.
He flashed her a grin that had better warn her that he was getting damned horny watching her run around naked. He wasn’t above seducing her. She could protest until hell froze over, but they both knew that after the first kiss she was going to cave. It was a given. He knew it, she knew it, and his c**k knew it.
She did beat a hasty retreat back to the bathroom as Mac drew in a silent breath of relief.
“You know, you need to get a handle on yourself,” she told him, causing him to catch his breath again minutes later as she left the bathroom.
“That waistband is too damned low.” He glared at the sight of her lovely hip bones above the elastic band of the shorts. And the so-called t-shirt wasn’t much better. It flashed too much belly, and showed her navel ring. A navel ring that had been driving him crazy the past few months.
“Get used to it, Daddy,” she pouted sarcastically. “Do I bitch over your t-shirts that stretch over your chest, or your ass in your jeans?”
“My jeans aren’t low enough to flash my dick, either. There’s not enough material to those shorts to keep yourself decent, Keiley.”
Let alone him. He was almost panting now. His balls were tight. He was ready to f**k and he was ready to go for it now. She was tempting a hungry man. And she knew it. Over the past year his fiery wife had become a sexual force to be reckoned with.
“That’s too bad. I’m sure you would get a lot of notice if they were.” She eyed the bulging crotch before glancing back at him with sparkling amusement. “Arrested, too, most likely, but it would definitely be interesting.”
“Change clothes.”
“Not on your life.”
She slid her feet into a pair of sandals and walked sedately out of the bedroom, her ass twitching in those damned too-tight shorts, flashing it at him like a matador flashes a red cape at an enraged bull.
She’d been doing that a lot lately. Tempting him. Defying him. Pushing the boundaries he had allowed her to set when they first married.
A part of him had watched the progression with anticipation. He knew what was coming. She was tired of waiting on him to push her sexuality. She was pushing it herself now.
Her boundaries and his.
Did she intend to go out in public like that?
Mac jerked his shirt on, working the buttons as he stomped through the hallway and downstairs to the kitchen.
“Where are you going today?” He asked as he came to a stop in the doorway, watching as she put coffee on.
“Noplace, unless you start demanding I change clothes first. Then, I don’t know. Main Street shopping, or if you prefer, hooking the street corners.” She blinked back at him innocently.
“Smartass.”
“Don’t start, Mac.” Her frown said it all.
“You might as well go ahead and forgive me, Keiley,” he warned her.
“Why should I do something that stupid?” she asked incredulously. “This is three days in a row that you’ve come home late from some sale or meeting. Normally I’m in the bed asleep before you ever walk in the front door. If I did that to you, you would have a fit.”
“I’d paddle your ass,” he muttered.