The sight of Olivia’s empty pillow registered as soon as Dain’s eyes opened, but not its meaning. His wife never got up before he did—years in the military had assured he awoke at dawn no matter how much or how little sleep he’d gotten the night before. He usually stirred when the room was still dim, the weight of Livie’s slight body half lying on his right side, the warm, sleepy scent of her filling his nose. His gift. His heaven after too many years of nothing of his own. His arms ached without her in them.
Where was she?
She’d been up for a while too; the scent of coffee lingered in the air, which meant it’d had time to drift from the kitchen into their bedroom. Running a hand across the bed found her side already cool.
Why wasn’t she still in bed with him?
The sound of water running caught his attention, filtering through the closed door of their connecting bathroom. She was already in the shower.
Something was wrong.
Every instinct he’d honed in his forty—two years screamed at him to get to her. Senses alert for any alarm, he slipped from the bed and stalked across the room to the closed bathroom door. A moment listening revealed nothing but the flow of water.
Frustration and worry tangled together in his throat.
“Livie?”
Wet air slapped his face as he stepped into the daylit bathroom, but not until he saw Livie behind the glass shower door, head tilted back, eyes closed, did he take a full breath. Leaning against the wall, he watched as she lifted her hands to the mass of strawberry—blonde hair on her head, now water darkened and soapy. She slid her fingers through the strands as the water rinsed suds down her body. Damn, he’d never get tired of that body. Ten years of marriage hadn’t lessened his desire for her a single iota. Livie had the pale cream complexion of a true Irishwoman, her smooth skin drawing his gaze down a long, slender neck to rounded breasts with plump nipples he could spend hours sucking and pulling. Her stomach was softly curved, her hips rounded like the bottom half of an hourglass, her legs long. At five—seven she still only came to his shoulder—a perfect fit, in his opinion. And when he imagined those curves against him, those legs dragging him closer between her thighs…
He dropped a hand to his naked cock and stroked, enjoying the hardening rush that seized his body.
Livie turned, opened her eyes. One green, one brown. Those beautiful mismatched eyes rested on his hand, his erection. A laugh bubbled from her full lips.
“Good morning, husband.”
He slid his hand to the very tip and squeezed as he watched the water lovingly trace her body. “It certainly is now, wife.”
When he lifted his shoulder from the doorjamb and began a slow stalk across the room, Livie shivered. Considering the light drift of steam in the room, he didn’t think it was a chill causing that reaction. He stared, silent, branding her with every step, until the glass between them was moved aside and he joined her in the shower. Livie swallowed hard as she moved back to give him room. He kept pushing forward until her sweet body was trapped between his much bigger one and the wet shower wall.
The water was cooler than he’d expected—not cold, but not hot. Livie loved a hot shower. He frowned, settling his hands on her hips to keep her exactly where he wanted her. “What’s wrong?”
It was more command than question, but Livie only looked puzzled. “Nothing’s wrong. Why?”
He bent until his mouth came even with hers. Livie tried to push up on her toes, to bring their lips together, but he held tight, refusing her impulse. A sharp nip on her full bottom lip startled her.
“Why are you up?”
A shy, sly look blossomed in her eyes. “Is that what this is about? You’re upset because I got out of bed without you? I am completely capable of managing a morning on my own, you know.”
Of course he knew. She managed all the time when one of his security jobs for JCL required an overnight stay to protect a client. Just not when he was actually here.
“Don’t try that snow job on me, wife,” he growled. “Something’s up. You can’t distract me from finding out what.”
“I can’t?” Since he refused to let her lift enough to meet his lips, she leaned forward, her tongue landing on one tiny, already hard nipple. His groan echoed against the tile walls. When her teeth joined the dance, he abandoned the argument in favor of pulling her tight against him. The move allowed him just enough room to land a smack on one plump ass cheek.
Livie squeaked into his skin.
“I know I’m gonna have to punish you for leaving me all alone in that enormous bed. Do I also need to punish you for lying to me?”
A light laugh tickled the hollow below his collarbone. “Sounds fun.”
He leaned back, searching out those mismatched eyes. She couldn’t hide anything from him when he looked into her eyes. “Tell me, Olivia. Are you okay?”
Her eyes shared the smile that curved her wide mouth. “I’m okay. Really.” She pushed up on tiptoe again, and this time he loosened his hold enough to allow it. “Just a little insomnia, that’s all. You know these end—of—the—month hassles. But that’s nothing to worry about. I’m fine.”
Livie worked in accounting at a local Atlanta company, and yes, sometimes the final days of the month were a pain in the ass. Still…
Livie closed the distance between them, bringing her mouth to his, open and hot. Her hard nipples dragged through the rough hair on his chest, drawing moans from both of them. “You said something about a punishment?”
He eased back, ignoring her pout in favor of torturing her. “Turn around.”
His wife turned the torture right around on him, shifting her body little by little, giving him the best view of all her delectable parts before finally facing the wall.
“Hands up.”
She placed her palms on the cool tile, fingers spread. The rise and fall of her back quickened, matching his racing breaths.
“Tilt back, Livie. Give me that ass.”
Livie lifted first one foot, then the other—about shoulder—width apart, equal distance from the wall. He gave one smooth inner thigh a smack. “Wider.”
