Page 57 of Meant For Love

“Does your partner prefer FaceTiming, texting, or calling?” she quizzes, and I write down my answer. “What did you write?”

“There is more than one answer. You love FaceTiming your family, but everyone else you like to text, and you only take calls from clients.”

“You know that you’re annoying”—she points at me—“and you watch me way too much.”

“Score one for me.” I hold up my hand. “What did you write?”

“I sort of wrote the same thing for you. You love FaceTiming your niece, Meadow,” she answers, and I just watch her, “and you FaceTime Caine every morning.”

“And I watch you too much?” I use her words against her. “You know what I don’t like about this game?” I don’t wait for her to answer me. “That you aren’t naked.”

“What is your partner’s favorite animal?” she continues, and I don’t even write it down.

“If you don’t say cat, you’re a fucking liar.” I point at her, and she throws her head back and laughs. “You spend at least one hour a day watching cat videos.”

“It helps clear my head. I put cat for you also since you spend most of the time watching them with me,” she snaps. “What's the best place you’ve ever traveled to?”

“Hmmm,” I say, “I have no idea on this one. Is it Europe?”

“Nope,” she replies, so I toss the whiteboard to the side and slide my T-shirt off.

“Now this is fun. What about you? What did you write?”

“Mexico.” She shows me her answer, and I smile.

“Take it off,” I instruct her, and her mouth opens. “It was Mexico, but now it’s Vegas.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Take it off, baby.” She pulls her shirt over her head, leaving her in her lace bra. “The bra also, it’s part of the shirt.” She wants to fight me on it, but instead, she just takes it off and tosses it my way.

“Happy?”

“I’m getting there.” I grin when she asks me her next question.

“How does your partner de-stress?” She giggles. “Should I even write it?”

“Are you going to write sinking into his wife’s pussy or mouth?” I ask. “Because that’s the only answer to that.”

“I was going with sex or blow job.” She shrugs. “So I’m right.”

“You would be right,” I admit. “For you, I wrote sucking my dick or riding me.” Her mouth opens in shock. “But then I also wrote watching stupid cat videos.”

“What’s your partner’s favorite holiday?” she asks, and I erase my previous answer and write down my answer, then show it to her.

“Christmas,” I say, and she nods. “What is mine?”

“Your birthday,” she declares, and I smile big.

“Nope, I’d like to see you take off your pants.”

“What’s your favorite holiday?” She refuses to take off her pants.

“Our anniversary,” I state. She throws her marker at me, and I move to the side as it zooms by my head. “Take it off, Mrs. Griffin.” I wink at her as she tosses the whiteboard in front of her, standing up and taking her pants off. “And the panties.”

“No fucking way,” she fires back. “If you take off your pants, you still have your boxers.”

“Not if I’m not wearing any,” I tell her, “which I’m not, so it would leave me naked.”