“Indeed...just hopeless.” I kiss her forehead that feels a bit warm. “But I couldn’t be in better company.”
The next morning, we fly home. Rayna hasn’t improved. In fact, against my judgment, she forges ahead to work that Monday, only to be forced back in bed by noon. When she doesn’t get any better that Tuesday, I roll her into the doctor, who confirms she indeed has virus of some sort that doubles with an ear infection, and prescribes antibiotics. The doctor explains her bug will run its course on its own, but the infection should ease up in a couple of days. I’m just happy to have a diagnosis and solution for recovery.
I move around my schedule so that I can play doctor to her for a couple of days and work from home. The routine turns extremely domestic and quickly. Rayna stays in bed, sleeping on and off, and catching a little television in between. I work on my laptop, next to her unless I need to be in my office for a call. Azna finds his place right underneath Rayna.
When Rayna’s fever reduces, she ventures into the sitting area of the master suite and I set her up comfortably there where she sleeps less and watches more television. I cop a spot on the other side of the L shaped sofa and work, avoiding her fatuous reality shows. And Azna lays right underneath his maternal owner. It amazes me how dogs can sense when their caretaker is ill. He’s very protective of her, not even letting Rayna take a piss unsupervised. When Rayna shoos him out the door once she starts to regain her strength, Azna patiently waits outside until she’s done.
Eventually Rayna grows tired of the master suite, something that surprises me; she covets that room since eyes on sight. I caught her in there molesting the bed during her first visit to the marina. I recall that night, thinking that room would increase my chance of tasting that ass. And I’ll be damned if I didn’t enjoy it the first time I had it in there.
When she moves to the great room, insisting she needs a new view, Azna and I follow. She also starts eating, even if just a few spoonfuls of chicken broth. I feel victorious in aiding her back to health. I’m slowly regaining my Rayna. This lasts until Rayna’s fever lets up; she begins to feel better and all but kicks me out of the crib. That much about Rayna hasn’t improved as other facets of her; she still maintains that independent streak that I continue to rival.
~~~~~~~~~~
I shut the door behind me and can immediately hear Azna’s paws pouncing against the Italian marble floors as he heads my way. This small ritual thrills me this moment, as I’ve been stress as a motherfucker over this D-Struct search and police investigation. I toss my messenger bag and the bouquet of flowers on the foyer table and reach down to pick him up.
“Somebody was groomed today,” I say as I ruffle his hair while petting him. Azna’s tail wags in my arms as he tries to catch my hand to lick it. “You didn’t let them snip your sac, did you? We need more testosterone in this piece, man.”
I let him down as I chuckle to myself then yell out, “Where’s the Missus. of the house?” to no place in particularly.
Then I grab the flowers and head to the back of the apartment. I don’t hear movement, but that’s plausible considering the size of the place. Rayna isn’t exactly a phone chatterer so she could be anywhere, quiet as a librarian. I make my way into the master suite and scan the bedroom area and then the sitting room from across the way. I then give a cursory glance in the walk-in closet where I discard my suit jacket and tie, to no avail. By now, I know she’s in the bathroom.
When I enter, I find her standing over the vanity, removing her makeup. She’s wearing a pencil skirt and a soft silk ivory blouse that though aren’t skin tight, still reveals the contour of her delicious frame. She’s shoeless, but still in her hosiery. My groin tingles.
I’m starving for my wife, horny as a motherfucker. It’s been almost two weeks since we last made love in San Francisco. I’ve been out of town and she was so sick that I didn’t think of touching her, even when I dreamed it. Rayna still has a lingering dry cough, remnants of her bug, which coincidentally she did catch from Erin. But her glow hasn’t fully returned. And there are slight dark circles under her eyes, telling of exhaustion and evidence of recent illness, which is why I assume she’s wearing more makeup than usual to work.
Other than that, she’s back to her feisty mannerisms, even let go of an intern earlier in the week for good reasons. My need for her has now risen to a volcanic level. My need for her has grown so severe that everything feminine I’ve seen and smelled over the past few days has reminded me of Rayna. And I’m randy and ready to fuck Mrs. Jacobs. That’s what I do and do well, I’m sure of it. I sidle up behind her embracing her small frame beneath me, pressing my intolerable erection into her ass.
Damn I miss this!