Page 62 of Single Malt Drama
Marco
I’d heardthe term love sick many times, but I’d always assumed it was a teenage thing like bad attitudes and peer pressure. I’d certainly never associated it with actual physical symptoms, yet there I was vaguely nauseous and breaking out in a cold sweat.
Why?
Because I needed to tell my wife I loved her.
Nico tossed an armful of pillows onto the foldout couch and tilted her head. “Is it as uncomfortable as it looks?”
I sat on the thin, lumpy mattress and bounced a couple of times for good measure. “Absolutely.”
“I wonder if Cyril could fit a memory foam mattress in his boat.” Laughing, she walked into the kitchen with a sway of her hips that had my dick sitting up and taking notice.
Down boy.I planned to have a serious conversation with her. To do so, I needed my blood to stay in my brain.
Nico bent over to add more items to the growing list, and I about swallowed my tongue. She’d changed into those cute pajama shorts that made her long legs appear even longer and tanner and more toned.
“Nic, grab the wine.” I kicked off my shoes and settled against the back of the couch or tried to. The second my ass hit the upper edge of the mattress, the folding mechanism triggered, and the center of the bed came off the floor, which made to the foot fold up. The higher the center bar rose, the lower I sank until my knees were beside my ears. “Mother of God!”
She gasped, went quiet, and finally erupted in a series of giggles.
“It’s not funny.” Laughing, I attempted to force my legs down, but the more I wiggled, the more I sank. “A little help here.”
Still cracking up, she tugged at the sofa, but it was no use. My body acted like a doorstop and prevented the natural movement of the springs. “It isn’t working.”
“Put you’re back into it.” That’s something I never thought I’d say to a woman in bed. I’m done for. This is karma biting me in the ass for years of man-whoring.
Nico grunted and the springs gave enough for me to plant my feet and push down with my legs.
As soon as my ass lifted from the ground, I scrambled to the center of the mattress.
Still laughing, Nico collapsed beside me and wrapped her arms around her middle. “You should do it again when I have my camera.”
“Hell no.” I threw my arm over my face. “I was worried about the gators eating me when the real threat was the couch.”
“Are you injured?” She scooted closer and rested her head on my shoulder.
Draping my arm around her, I kissed the top of her head. “Only my pride.”
“Mother of God,” she mimicked my voice and erupted in another fit of giggles.
“Laugh it up, chuckles.” I rolled over and tucked her beneath me.
Her eyes widened, and her lips parted with a surprised gasp.
The feel of her body under mine made me break out in another cold sweat. As much as I wanted to lean forward and kiss her until we were a naked tangle of arms and legs, I couldn’t. I couldn’t cross the line without laying my cards on the table.
She raised her head as if to kiss me, but I pulled away.
The confusion and hurt in her eyes ripped me in two. I eased off her and helped her to sit upright.
“Did I do something wrong?” Her voice quivered.
“No, you’ve done everything right.” I tucked her hair behind her ear. “It’s about the contract.”
Her face fell.
“I want to tear it up.” I held my breath waiting for her response. When she did nothing but stare, I added, “I don’t want a time limit.”