He knows I watch him. This is a game to him. He could sleep in or stay up late, but he doesn’t. Liam gets up with me in the morning and goes to bed when I do at night and I’m starting to think it’s because his intention is to have me committed. I may or may not have a drooling issue when it comes to staring at my husband. You’d think that after watching him grow up that I’d be used to his body, but the truth of the matter is, he didn’t fully grow until he left Beaumont. I missed the transformation from teenage boy to man. Sometimes I think I’m happy that I did, but other times, I think about all the other women out there that have experienced his transformation. I hate them all. I’m jealous of them and I don’t know why. I have him now. He chose me.
His jeans drop to the ground and he kicks them aside, depriving me of the chance to watch him bend over to pick them up. I find myself leaning into my vanity to get a better look as his thumbs dip into the waistband of his boxer briefs. Men find women’s lingerie sexy and appealing. It turns them on. The look and feel teases them and they love it. I never thought about men in their underwear until I saw Liam in his. Over the years he’s maintained his muscles, yet has a more defined physique. His boxers aren’t sagging in places they shouldn’t. My husband could be an underwear model with his form fitting briefs, although I don’t know if I’d want the world to see what he only shares with me. The cotton fabric pools at his feet. He steps out of them and turns around, showing me his naked body... a body only for my eyes, my hands, my lips and any other part of me.
“How long are you going to stare at me?” I swallow hard as my eyes flash to his and a wicked grin plays across my lips.
“Until my eyes no longer work,” I tell him. “Or until you tell me to stop.”
“Hmm that’ll be never,” he says as he walks near me. It’s when he’s inches from my back that I can no longer see him; his presence is felt immensely in the energy we share. I’ve always known when he’s near. It can be both a blessing and a curse. After my last round of pregnancy tests, when I asked him to come home, I knew he was at the door before he even said my name. I didn’t want him to see me like that – a mess and crumbling on the floor because I failed again in giving him another child. I had hoped he’d respect the closed door, but he knew immediately and I can’t fault him for being the caring man that he is. He wanted to fix me, take away my pain, just as I would do for him. However, knowing when he’s about to touch me makes my skin tingle with anticipation. My body zings with electricity the moment before he touches me. He’s like my own personal current that I need in order to keep functioning.
Liam’s touch is light as a feather as he moves the strap of my nightgown down my shoulder. Lips that I’m eager for ghost across my skin. I feel my skin pebble, the goose bumps rising with anticipation as my other strap falls, leaving my nightgown barely covering my breasts.
He looks at me, his eyes meeting mine through the mirror as he watches the tips of his fingers travel along my collarbone. It’s been so long since we’ve been like this. There’s no rushing, or lack of foreplay. I’ve missed my husband and I want to tell him as much, but I’m at a loss for words as he sweeps my hair to the side and presses his lips against my neck. Liam presses into my back as his fingers push my flimsy nightgown down.
“I really like this color on you,” he says as he looks at me.
I glance at myself in the mirror. I can’t see the midnight blue gown that I was wearing only moments ago. “I’m not wearing a color.”
“You are, and it’s flesh-toned. The most beautiful color I’ve ever seen.” Liam quickly turns me on my stool and scoops me into his arms. His mouth captures the schoolgirl squeal I want to let out as his tongue meets mine. My arms wrap around his neck as he carries us the few steps to our bed where he gently sets me down.
“Seems we have a problem, Mrs. Westbury.”
“What’s that Mr. Page?” I say Page purposefully, earning a deep grunt from him. He shakes his head slowly as he takes in every inch of my body.
“Is that what you want?”
Pulling my lower lip in, I nod almost hesitantly. It’s a dangerous game, playing with Liam Page, but sometimes it’s warranted. Sometimes it’s needed. I’ve had the best of both worlds where he’s concerned. At times I’ll have the slow, sensual love making from my husband, while at others I’m rewarded with the rough and powerful fucking from my rocker.
I want the rocker tonight.
Sitting up, I push him away from the bed. His eyes widen as I guide his hand into my hair. My nightgown bunches at my waist as I squat down, level with his erection.
“If you picked me up in a bar, what would you do?”
“Don’t Jojo,” he says, not because he doesn’t want to be with me, but because he fears I’m trying to be someone I’m not. He doesn’t like to be reminded of who he used to be and I can understand that, but sometimes I want to be that bad girl who goes home with the rocker from the club.
Tonight I’m going to be her.