I Still Love You

"Why?" she nearly whispered, watching me rub in the excess lotion over my hands. Those hazel eyes that I had neglected to get lost in recently were looking me up and down.

"Oh," I mused, acting surprised that I had to explain myself. "I saw the lotion and thought it smelled really nice." I left it at that and rose from the couch to retire for the night.

The next morning, Jo woke me with a kiss. The last time she did that was on my birthday and I was tickled pink that she was already responding so well to my plan. Granted, the kiss was more like a peck, but really it's the thought that counts, and knowing that I was among the first hundred or so things she thought about that morning made my day. My eyes fluttered open as I inhaled the fresh cup of coffee on my nightstand, and for the first time in months, my cheek was warm with evidence of her kiss.

I walked into work much happier that day and was greeted by an all too eager Penny at my desk. "So, what did you do last night?" she bounced around my cubicle, full of pent up excitement.

I laughed and filled Penny in on my plan and all the things that I did as part of step one last night. She awed and patted my shoulder, constantly reassuring me that my wife would be mine again before long. I was still nervous as to whether or not I could pull it off without making Jo frustrated, but I wanted to be hopeful and it was easily accomplished in Penny's company.

Penny rested her chin against the top of my cubicle wall, looking down at me with those eyes a woman gets when she's watching a romantic movie. "So what's step two?"

"Well, the second thing that I miss the most about what our relationship used to be was how much Jo talked to me. She used to tell me everything, forever talking. I never realized how quiet it got and how much I don't know about the life she lives now." It was all true. I knew almost nothing of my wife's daily life. I didn't know any of the people she worked with. I didn't know where she liked to go for lunch. I didn't even know if she went out for lunch.

"Stop stalling, Mark. What are you going to do tonight?" Penny anxious prodded. That abrasive attitude she tended to default to came shining through as she eagerly awaited my answer.

"I was hoping I could sneak out of here a little early tonight and make Jo dinner. If I time things just right I can give her a glass of wine and listen to everything she's kept pent up inside while I fix her some of my mom's famous clam chowder."

I looked up to see Penny's reassuring smile. "I wish someone would make me soup when I got home from work," she pouted as she walked away.

Everything was going as planned and I managed to creep out of the office without drawing too much attention. Penny had promised to muzzle anyone who dare complain, so I was able to drop by the grocery store, dip by my favorite fish monger, and speed home just before my wife would beat me. By the time I heard her car pull in the driveway, the wine had been set to breathe for just the right amount of time and all the food was ready to be thrown in the pot.

"Mark?" I heard Jo call out from the entry way of our home. There was the distinct sound of her shoes being kicked off and the scratch of her stockings against the hard wood floors as she searched for me. She peered around the corner and I greeted her with a goofy smile. "Are you cooking?" her voice was laced with surprise.

"I hope you don't mind sharing the kitchen for tonight." I poured her a glass of wine and nodded towards the bar stool along the outer edge of our kitchen counters. She sat and tentatively took a sip of the wine. "I had a hankering for clam chowder and thought I'd dig out my mom's old recipe." I took the recipe card out of the pocket of my apron and showed it to her.

"Fine by me," she returned my smile and spun the wine around in her glass. "I didn't feel like cooking tonight anyhow and soup does sound delicious."

I watched as she took her hair down and started to relax. Just watching made me ache to hold her. I had been remembering all the things I neglected to do for her these past few days, and out of all of them, holding her was a major one on the list. There was a time where I couldn't keep my hands off her and she was kind enough to tolerate all my poking and prodding. I wanted that back, too.

My plan couldn't have been working any better. Two sips into the wine and she started to open up about her day. I worked at the stove top, nodding and offering my two cents whenever it was appropriate. I was desperately trying to pay attention to what she was actually saying and not be distracted by warm fuzzy feelings flooding over me with the sound of her voice. The soup was almost ready and I had just set a pan of rolls in the oven. The oven door closed and my ears perked up with her conversation.

She had gone off about the people she works with, one lady in particular being just awful. My wife is a school teacher and one of the other teachers had been spreading rumors and wasting material and time. It really bothered my wife and I could tell that she was holding back her frustrations, probably trying not to sound too irritated by the petty nature of this woman. Jo stopped to huff and I took it as my cue.

"Wow. She sounds like such a bitch," I casually replied while grabbing some soup bowls from the cabinets. Now up until this time, I'd only been replying with short answers, merely agreeing to or acknowledging her conversation. This comment was input, it was a conclusion that I had made on my own and added to the topic, and it was very important to Jo.

"Exactly!" she conceded, her voice laden with surprise and relief. She acted as though it was a miracle that someone agreed with her. "It's so great that you understand. Marge has been driving me crazy for weeks now."

My remark had flipped a switch in her brain and she knew that I was listening now and not just tolerating. It was as if I had released the flood gates and the small talk escalated into all the important thoughts and dreams she's had. Her conversation ventured past work and into things she wants to do with her life, plans she has for herself as well as for us. She talked about traveling or taking up a hobby. She mentioned everything.

Of course, I drank in every little word she said, amazed that after fifteen minutes of proving to her that I still cared, she was able to open up to me again. She talked well past dinner and we were readying for bed before it seemed like she took a breath. There was a lot I had to catch up on, but I was more than happy to do so.

She yawned, turning back the covers to our bed. "I feel like I've been talking all night. I don't know what got into me. I'm sorry."

I looked over to see her wry smile and I couldn't have that. "Jo, baby, don't think twice about it. We haven't had a good chat in a while so it was long overdue." I stood on the opposite side of the bed and watched her lie down.

Now here's a special note. The bed is a place of comfort, safety, love, and warmth. Though it may be a pile of springs and cotton covered in a sheet, the bed is a sacred place and if you haven't taken the time to appreciate the person who shares your bed with you, then you need to start. With all my faults and quirks, Jo laid down in that bed with me. Night after night the same place she attributed rest and rejuvenation with was something she shared with me. That means something.

I sighed, surrendering to the sheets. Jo had picked up her book and was chewing on the corner of her bookmark. This time, instead of aimlessly playing on my phone or catching up on the news, I focused on her. I watched her chest swell and sink with each breath, occasionally hitching as whatever she was reading took hold of her. I chose that moment to thank my lucky starts that my wife was just as beautiful, if not more so, than the day I met her.

"Jo?" I whispered, almost afraid that she might hear me. She hummed in response, still reading. "Can I hold you?"

She froze. I could tell her mind was racing through every thought it could and it scared me to think that she might actually refuse. As she returned the book to the nightstand and her glasses to their case, I could have sworn I saw her smile. Jo never said a word, but she cuddled up right next to me like it was the most natural thing on earth. With her back to my chest, I wrapped an arm around her waist and rested the other under her head. I could feel her hands searching for mine and our fingers intertwined when their journey came to fruition.

Just like that, with her hands in mine, she fell asleep. Just like that, with her body willingly pressed to me, she started sinking off into dream land. Just like that, my pet was back beneath my fingertips, right where she belongs.

I woke up the next morning, struggling to place a particular feeling. Those few moments between my body becoming aware of itself and my eyes opening were confusing. I was warm, warmer that I would usually be and there was a funny tingling on my chest. Opening my eyes was like prying open a locked door and it didn't take me long to figure out that I had woken up earlier than I was used to.

"Good morning," she whispered as she kissed my chest.

I was well rewarded when my eyes finally did open. Looking down, I focused in on the sight of Jo, curled up on me. She was smiling and running her fingertip in circles on my chest, meddling with the hair that normally goes untouched. Jo was lying on her stomach now, half on top of me as her leg intertwined with mine. Her hair was a mess and her nightgown had ridden down, hinting at the goodies that I haven't tasted in so long. I guess it should go without saying that even though I was lying down, I was standing at attention.

"Good morning, sweetheart," I whispered back, kissing her forehead and feeling her purr as my lips made contact with her skin.

The situation was teetering on dangerous for my plan. As it stood, it had been months since Jo and I had shared an intimate moment and I figured that she would be feeling romantic before too long. What I didn't count on was her waking me up early to service her. I wasn't ready for that. My plan wasn't ready for that. I looked down at Jo as she kissed my chest again, knowing that somehow I had to stall.

"Be right back," I kissed her hair again before taking refuge in the bathroom. Cheap move, I know, but any longer with her little kisses and there would be no hope. I did feel bad as I got up. I missed her warmth immediately and I knew she would be thinking the same thing as well as being disappointed with my lack of tact.

I closed the door to the bathroom and heard her punching the mattress out of frustration. I relieved myself and washed my hands, all the while trying not to laugh as I thought of Jo's dramatic turnover. Two days ago she was questioning my love and now she was sexually frustrated. Would my wife ever be pleased?

Jo definitely did not give up without a fight. I opened the bathroom door and was greeted with a sight that I hadn't seen in ages. Jo was stretching across our bed. In the soft morning light, she lay among the rumpled sheets with her back arched up and her breasts facing the ceiling. That flimsy nightgown did nothing to hide those nipples from me and I could distinctly see something purple and lacey between her thighs. She hummed, delightedly as her arms stretched above her head and her toes pointed across the room.

I know I must've been smiling like a fool with a full on erection because she looked over and started to giggle. It would've been so easy to take her right then. She was inviting me, encouraging me. Those primitive urges were starting to shout louder than the reasoning in my head. The reasoning kept chanting for me to stick with the plan, but the urges were frantically trying to convince me otherwise.

"How about I go get you a cup of coffee this morning?" I offered, internally high fiving my wit for thinking of that so quickly. I still felt like a loser for turning her down, but at least this wasn't so bad, was it?

Half shocked, half disappointed, she answered, "Really?" I could tell that she was surprised her efforts did not tumble me over into a lust filled frenzy.

"Yeah, you get coffee for me all the time and since I'm out of bed first today, might as well return the favor for once." Her body stiffened as she sat up, adjusting her nightgown to be a bit more modest. Her disappointment was obvious now. Had I not already known what I had done, I would've been out of my mind concerned.

I just smiled. "You know what though, babe?"

"What?" she asked seeming slightly annoyed.

"While I was in the kitchen last night I noticed that we were out of sugar," I replied, laying the groundwork for step three. She sat up in the bed and gave me a confused look. "I think you might have to loan me some for that coffee, Jo." I gave her a wink and watched as the lightbulb came on in her head.

Frantically, Jo scampered up on her knees, perched on the edge of the bed closest to where I was standing. "I have sugar to give," she giggled. She looked so damn adorable right there, wiggling with excitement as she watched me inch closer.

"Do you?" I mused. I took the few steps forward towards her. Her hand found my chest quickly and I tucked a lock of hair back behind her ear. I couldn't stop smiling down at my eager wife, impatiently awaiting my kiss. She nodded and that was it for me.

I gently lifted her face towards me, securing her lips to mine. Every ounce of love, tenderness, and hope I ever had inside me was poured into that kiss and all my efforts were rewarded. I felt Jo sink a little and I had to secure her around the waist, pulling her closer against me. This kiss was right up there with our first and the one we shared after I proposed. Her lips we so soft and willing that I nearly lost myself in the exquisite feeling.

She was panting when I released her. Those lips of hers were a little darker in hue than they had been before and her nipples seemed to be a little more prominent than I had noticed earlier. Nothing compared to those eyes though. How on earth had I forgotten how enrapturing they could be? I held her close, staring deep into those eyes of hers. The room could have been on fire and I wouldn't have noticed. It was her and I. Nothing else.

"I love you," I whispered.

Her eyes suddenly clamped shut and she tried to turn her head away from me. I was lost for a second, unsure about why she was hiding, but I soon felt the small tremor shiver its way through her. She bit her bottom lip in attempts to try to keep it from quivering and I felt two tear drops fall on my arm.

"Joanna, please," I begged, now supporting my crying wife. "Tell me what's wrong."

I felt her take a deep breath while she tried to pull herself together. The room was suddenly an eerie sort of quiet. It felt like the air stood still and the world stopped to hear what she might say. I could tell she had simmered back down as her breaths regulated and I felt her start to use some of her own strength to keep her upright.

"I thought I lost you," she whispered into my chest. "I felt like you just lost interest in me and that magic we had for so long faded so easily. I still need you, Mark. I still love you."

I tucked my wife's head under my chin and squeezed her harder to me. "I need you too, babe, and I promise," my voice hitched as I struggled to get the words out. "I promise to do everything I can to never make you question my devotion."

Then my alarm clock went off. Jo sighed and reached around me to turn it off. It's a shame how life has a way of robbing those sacred moments of their full potential. I reluctantly let my arms fall from her and watched as she left the bed, wearing a content smile.

She walked off downstairs to grab our coffee and left me confused by the bedside. To this day, I still don't understand how she can be crying one moment and completely peachy the next.

I went to work, same as always, and just like the day prior I had to fill Penny in on all the details .She thought it was especially sweet how Jo and I fell asleep in each other's arms and she made a habit of making those soft girly noises. It was almost funny how I became her new romance novel.

I, however, sat at my desk for most of the day kicking myself. Step three in my plan had been long forgotten and replaced with memories of her soft curves writhing on the bed that morning. I could not believe that I shrugged her off. I did really need to hear that she still loved me, but I could've been driving into that heaven of hers. Instead of sitting at my desk feeling stupid, I could've been wearing a stupid grin.

I was just about to pull out my list and try to remind myself why I'd been so focused on sticking with the plan when my phone starting ringing. I pulled it out of my pocket and felt the warmth flood over me as my wife's voice seeped through the speaker.

"You should come home," she said. No greeting, no inquiry as to how my day was, just her sweet voice wrapping my head in some kind of audio death grip.

A quick look at my watch confirmed that her classes had ended a half hour ago and I was pretty confident I understood the nature of her suggestion, but I played dumb. "Everything alright, sweetheart?"

"No," she sounded amused. "I need my husband."

"Leaving right now," I spat out as I locked my computer and scrambled to get my desk in some sort of order before I left. All I could think about was my wife lying in bed, waiting for me. I was not about to pass that up again, not when I'd just been thinking about how idiotic it was of me this morning.

Half way to the door I heard Penny's laughter and her cry of good luck. I just waved and bee lined for my car. Joanna was waiting.

On a whim, I stopped by the florist and picked up the biggest and most romantic bouquet they had. I figured it would only be appropriate. I nearly drove though the garage pulling in the drive way and with the flowers in hand, I busted through the front door. Excited is not nearly deep enough a word to describe how I felt.

She was waiting in the kitchen, sitting pretty on a barstool with a half empty glass of wine. It was four thirty. There was no starry sky or sunset like there always is in the romances. She wasn't wearing a trench coat with nothing underneath and I hadn't just gotten back from saving the planet. There was my wife and that's all I could ever want.

"Are those for me?" her smile could've knocked me over had I not already been floating on a cloud. "Perhaps my husband feels guilty?" she cocked an eye brow at me, her face half buried in the bouquet.

"This morning," I responded almost breathless, watching with delight as everything about her made speaking difficult.

She laughed and turned to grab a vase from the cupboard. "I suppose an apology for that is appropriate and I'll accept it so long as you know I never want to be denied again."

Was it just me or was everything she said and did just sexy as hell? I was jealous of everything her hands touched. There was even a fraction of a second where I wished I hadn't have bought the flowers because they were getting more attention than me. My heart felt like it was racing. My hands itched to hold her. It was absolute torture and she was living it up.

With the flowers in a vase, she came round to where I was standing and gently pushed me up the stairs. "You had better not ever go another night without cuddling me to sleep," she commanded, pushing my heavy form up each step. We got to the bedroom and her instructions continued. "You had better not ever spend more time rubbing my feet than you do my pussy."

My stomach flipped as she said the word. I hadn't touched that gem of hers in ages and suddenly it became the most important thing on the planet. She pushed me back to sit on the bed and I was silly with need. I needed to feel that heat radiate off her, the silkiness of her skin, to hear her crying out my name.