I REACH for my husband and find him there. Pale skin glistening against firelight. Broad chest pushing me into the mattress. Silky hair smooth beneath my fingertips.
The dress on my body is a prison. He springs me free. A jailer with the key, eager to drag me into oblivion. Into flames that melt cell phones, bad habits and broken promises.
"I love you," he says as if I didn't hear the first time. The second. The third.
Do I look as stupid as I feel, grinning into a kiss that's meant to destroy me? I'm caught in a fever dream that I never want to end. Has my husband ever looked at me with such intensity? Spears flinging from oceans of blue. Arrows that strike my heart and drag it, beating and bloody into his hands.
His body goes still. Big hands caress my hip. "I mean that." "Stop teasing me."
His lips curl up. It's almost cruel the way he leans down to lick me. "Please," I whisper.
