“Enough to make it worth my while, and since it’s probably your money in the first place, maybe it will get you to think twice about pouring another glass. Two a day, that’s it, so you’re cut off until tomorrow.”
“I can’t believe the two of you are working together on this.”
“What, you mean like you and I working together to sober her up as well?”
“Good point.”
“Want some advice, shit finger?”
I shake my head, but know he’s gonna say it anyway.
“Buy your wife some chocolate on the way home, do something nice for her.”
“What for?”
“You’re such a dumbass. Man, you have a lot to learn.”
“Just fucking say it, Haverty.”
“First of all, because you love her... you do love her, right?” he asks, and tosses me my hat.
“I’m not answering that question. Is this another thing she paid you to do or say to me?”
“Listen,” he raises his hand to shut me up. “And second... this is important... do it because you’re about to step in shit. Try to pacify her before you head out tonight. If I have to watch over her then she better be in a good mood. I’ve found it’s always helpful to give a gift before you do something wrong, rather than after.”
“You’re insane, Hav. I’d hate to be dating a fucker like yourself.”
“You and me both,” he laughs. “Here,” he hands me a ten. “Do it.”
CHAPTER FOUR
It’s shortly after noon when I pull into the underground parking garage of our building and notice my father still hasn’t returned. I took a drive past the newspaper to see if he was there, and then by the address Kaitlyn gave me, which turns out to be a house; hers no doubt. No luck. Then I did the deed and bought some fucking chocolate. I’m still debating whether to give it to my wife or leave it outside my mother’s door.
“Damn it, I’m such a pussy,” I mumble, riding up the elevator to the top floor.
My mother and I bought the two penthouse lofts when my father was still in prison. We wanted to watch over one another, and at the time, I wasn’t in need of any real privacy. Now, with Sophia moved in and my father home, it’s been a bit crowded. I feel odd knowing when my parents come and go and sometimes I can hear them screwing around. Sophia has mentioned a desire to move; buy a house before we have a kid. I’m almost to the point that I agree with her, as long as it has a pool, which for me is like a man cave. I’ve been sympathetic to her needs of wanting to scream when we fuck or fight without their knowledge of the event, but I want to make my parents happy as well, and they’re keen on having their son and new daughter-in-law so close. I think when a baby comes it will be even harder to tell my mother we’re going to move, even if it would be within the same city, or the same neighborhood for that matter. I can just picture the devastation on her face when that day comes.
It’s good to hear peaceful music emanating from behind our door as I approach. She’s listening to a song we often play during our evening meal. It’s a sign that she’s not too upset. If she were, she’d put on her “sensitive” music and not something we both enjoy. I grip the box of chocolates and exhale. She’s not the romantic type and neither am I. We can be intimate, and yeah, we fucking love one another, but flowers, cards, and all that crap, no way. Chocolate falls along those lines. One time I ordered a romance basket in a hotel, thinking I might be able to give her some unfulfilled fantasy, be a storybook boyfriend, and she passed right by it, stripped, and told me to fuck her. She’s such a slut. A dream. She puts a smile on my face. Romance, no, but passion, rage, lust, and a deep ache in each of our hearts? We got it.
Sweating, I feel like an inexperienced, oily-faced, horny kid on a first date holding a gift; too nervous to go inside, listening, thinking about my breath. I haven’t brushed my teeth today, I smell, I’m a mess, and my dick’s growing thinking about her. We’re supposed to have a discussion about what happened in the bedroom this morning, but I need her now, before we talk. I can’t believe I listened to Haverty about this chocolate. James Robert Haverty. I should call him Jim Bob tonight... see how he reacts.
Why am I so nervous? Jesus, my wife has such a hold on me. I finally open the door and step inside, the box held behind my back as I slip out of my shoes and step further into the room.
“You said you’d be right home, and that was close to two hours ago!” she shouts, with her backed turned as she folds a pile of laundry on the dining room table. “I’m not even going to look at you, nope, keep walking, get out of this room.”
I’m silent. She looks gorgeous in that white tank with her hair pulled back and shoulders exposed. Tight faded jeans rolled at the bottom, bare feet, and when she snaps a sheet in the air the scent of citrus body lotion drifts into my face. She’s decadent and fuckable. I moisten my lips and watch in delight... patience... I want her to come to me.
“I won’t turn around, Cove. I know you’re standing there watching me, I can hear you breathing.”
I smile... silence... this is such a sinister thing to do... I love it... turn around, Sophia. Look at me.
“You asshole! Aren’t you going to say anything?” She throws a sock over her shoulder and makes an aggravated grunt from deep in her throat. I hold in my laughter. God, I love her.
“Cove!” she yells and swiftly does an about face.
Ha, I win. I’m driving her mad.
“What’s behind your back?” Her curiosity piqued. She struggles to peer around my chest but I turn and counter her every move like we’re shooting hoops.
“Come on, stop playing around. What is it?”
She slaps me playfully in the stomach and shoulders until I decide she’s suffered enough. I hold the box before her and her mouth drops open, and not in a good way. It’s not the playful, I want you to put your dick in here, open mouth; it’s the... shit... she looks horrified.
“What did you do?” her voice cold and low. “You wouldn’t bring home chocolate unless you did something terribly wrong. You bastard. What is it? Tell me!”
Fucking Haverty. I knew this was a bad idea.
“You know what? I don’t want to talk to you! Here,” she places her cell next to my ear. “Explain it to the person on the other line!”
I hear laughter and then Haverty’s voice. “Gotcha shitstick, ha!”
Damn. Punked in the ass. I take the cell and turn it off, then lift my wife over my shoulder and head up the stairs. She’s in a hysterical state of laughter with arms and legs flapping in the air. I hold her tightly and give her a good slap on the ass. She cries out and laughs again. Punishment. It’s time.
I kick the second floor door open as she screams and pleads not to be thrown in the pool. She continues to giggle in extreme excitement as I hold her over the edge. I’m so fucking glad she’s happy, even if it is because I was the butt of a joke.
“Cove please! I just showered,” she laughs.
“One.” I start to swing her toward the water.
“No!” her voice echoes round the room. “Please don’t!”
“Two.”
“You better come in with me!”
“Three.” I toss her in fully clothed then head for the door.
“Hey, get back here. Where are you going?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were angry with me,” I say in a sly voice. “You want me now? Hmm? Need me for something?”
“Yes, get your ass in here.”
I watch her slide out of her clothes and toss the heap onto the concrete. No bra, as usual, and she leaves her underwear on. Pink today, low-cut, with a lace trim. She’s so sexy and I fucking love her hair slicked back like that; it’s hotter than hell.
She changes her tone to sweet and tender as she floats on top of the water like a lily pad. “I’m waiting patiently to be disciplined for my cruel joke. Undress please,” she says.