The Husband: Naughty To Do List (book 1) (A Hotwife In The City) by Mariah V. Fox

Author:Mariah V. Fox [Fox, Mariah V.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Orange Rock Publishing
Published: 2019-09-02T00:00:00+00:00

He turns the shower lukewarm, it’s too damn hot for anything warmer. There’s perspiration dripping down my face as he places me in the stream of water, the perfect temperature. My whole body relaxes as my hair gets fully saturated, his semen flowing down my leg in a white river.

I’m gonna miss the way his skin turns red immediately after he gets under the water, no matter how hot or cold. I’ll miss him jumping in with me for a ‘quick rinse’ that almost always inevitably turned into him bending me over the detachable seven settings wand and pounding me from the back as our separate products crashed from the inlaid shower niche. I’ll miss the way his dick brushes my leg as if by accident when we both know it’s totally intentional.

“It’s better this way,” he murmurs, pouring a handful of shampoo into his palm. “I can’t be a husband right now, I need to focus on my writing. It’s not fair to you, to not come first.”

No, it’s okay, I came first. I promise. Was that out loud? Nope, still can’t speak.

He leans over me to adjust the temperature now that we’re both acclimated, turning it a couple notches cooler. We really do need to cool off, especially since the central AC is basically blowing warm air. Why?! We love that thing. Do you know how nice it is to turn on the oven in July and not burst into an immediate sweat that totally counts as a workout, despite what his fitness junkie sister says?

He kisses my neck on his way by, fingers brushing my love handles as he stands. His dick is still hard, bouncing up and down like its nodding to a beat I can’t hear, not ready to concede that what we just experienced is over. Not just for the moment, but forever. Is this closure? Because I don’t think I like it. Not one freakin’ bit.

I grab for that expensive body wash, the one that was supposed to celebrate my husband turning thirty but basically spelled the end of our marriage.

Maybe it’s a quarter life crisis, he never really had one when I did at twenty three. Or it could be that he wants to continue doing what he did to me in our bedroom just now, completely change up his sexual style, but with someone who wouldn’t know that it was new. I don’t care, I’ll pretend I don’t notice the difference. If I throw on a costume, you’ll never even have to know it’s me. I’ll be a cheerleader or the babysitter from your childhood, I’ll be whoever you want me to be.

Elliot takes the bottle of shower gel out of my hand, rubbing a dollop between his fingers as bubbles form, turning me around until my back is pinned up against him, throbbing hard-on pressed into my lower back. His hands wander over my body, sudsing me up with ridiculously sensual strokes that shouldn’t feel this good. I feel like he’s massaging my brain, kneading out the stress he’s caused.

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