"Hey, sleepy head." He whispered into her ears, slightly letting his lips touch the skin on her neck, hoping to tickle her with the warmth of his breathing. "Wake up."
He believed last night had been spectacular. He never wanted the evening to end. He did not expect that he would ever feel this way again.
Camille prepared all his favorites. She had researched everything he liked, even the wine he preferred for his meat.
"I wanted to cook, but they would not even let me behind the counter and touch the knife." His wife grumbled about the kitchen staff, shooing her out of the kitchen.
Then, Camille guided her to an empty chair with a fully decorated and arranged table, even helping him with his table napkin.
"Because you already had enough on your plate." He reasoned as he took the napkin in her hands and ushered her back to her seat.
