Best Laid Plans

Sometimes, I’m still a good girl. I make my husband dinner, and I love to bake him goodies to take to the firehouse and share with the other guys. Though, truth be told, sometimes he taunts the guys with them and keeps all the treats to himself, even when Shaw tries to grab them, even when Derek, when he’s there, does as well. Boys will be boys.

I love, too, to greet Gabe when he comes home after a long shift.

But I’ve learned that the element of surprise works wonders on my man.

Some days I wear an apron. Now and then, I don a silky little robe. Other nights, I slip into a new bra and panty set he hasn’t seen.

Every so often, I answer the door in nothing.

And each time, without fail, he picks me up, carries me over his shoulder, and takes me somewhere—the bedroom, the kitchen, the couch, the wall right next to the door one time when he was particularly pent up—and shows me how he feels about my greetings.

I suppose I feel naughty then.

Incredibly naughty.

But I’ve learned that naughty can be oh so very nice.

Especially when you’re wildly in love with the man you can share all your dirty fantasies with.

All you have to do is ask for what you want . . . and it’s quite nice indeed when you get it.

And with Gabe, I get it good.



THE END