His house was warm. It smelt of burning wood which surprisingly didn't overwhelm a faint scent of flowers. Probably the contrast of husband and wife. But he didn't look like someone who had a wife. He didn't look like he woke up every morning staring into the face of a woman that he would stay in bed for the purpose of looking at her while she's off guard. And would make her coffee and breakfast in bed even when it wasn't just a special occasion. He didn't look like he was in love.
I felt him staring at me.
"What are you thinking about?" He asked.
"Your wife." I said.
"Which one?" He chuckled.
"The one I was hoping didn't exist." I said.
He stood behind me and smelt my hair and when he sighed I felt his breath flow through out my body. I stepped away placing my boot in front of me and listened to the wooden floor creek.
"C'mon, Delilah -" He groaned. "You know I'm not married."
"But I don't." I said.
"I can prove it to you." He said.
I felt his arms reach to my shoulders. I stepped with every step through the house as he lead me to his bedroom.
"Did you see a wife? Tampons, Hair products, anything pink or girly?" He asked.
I shook my head.
"Hell," He added "Why don't you stay the night? And the night after that and the night after that and so on."
I looked at him and smiled.
"Sounds like a plan!" I yelled in excitement as I jumped on his bed sending feathers from a broken pillow through out the air. "So, is this where we make love?"
He chuckled and laid next to me.
"Most nights." He said kissing my neck. "You know... here and everywhere else humanly possible."
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