As soon as he walked through the door, I was on him. My hands on either side of his face, my lips on his.
“You’re always so feisty when we come home from the bar,” he said between my kisses, nips and bites along his jaw and throat.
He still had no clue.
“You just don’t get it, do you?” I asked, panting slightly as I stepped back from him.
“The fact that it drives me insane having to pretend like I’m just nothing to you. You can act like the macho straight guy that just sits there and teases the little gay guy. Asking me if I want you to fuck me. Asking me if I want to spit on your dick. Darlin’, you know good and well that you aint never fucked me.”
“Uhhh,” he started but I stopped him with a finger to his lips.
“Uh uh. You aint never fucked me. You make love to me. I know you got an image to keep up in public and I guess if it means you come home to me at night, I’ll let you keep up your image on the outside,” I said, sliding my arms around him, my head in the crook of his neck. “But I should tell you, there’s a rumor going around the store that you’re a lady in the streets but a freak between the sheets.”
“And just who started that rumor?”
“Don’t look at me. I didn’t. But I like to know that it’s true.”