“Would you like to know a secret?” he asked his wife while they were preparing for bed.
“I want to know all your secrets, Captain,” she purred, adjusting herself against the pillows and giving him an arch look.
With as straight a face as he could manage, he announced: “I’m not wearing any underwear,” while unzipping his jacket to prove that, in fact, he wasn’t wearing an undershirt. It hadn’t been the most comfortable day without one. “Mostly because Vette hasn’t done laundry like I asked her to.”
She grinned wickedly, her eyes sliding down his body. “If this is the result, I’m not letting her do laundry again. But you know what would look even better on you? …Me.”
He immediately ceased his actions with his jacket still half-on and one glove off, his arms falling limp in exasperation, and stared at her with a raised eyebrow of incredulous indignation. “That’s the line you’re going with tonight?”
She cackled. “Get over here.” Continue reading →