as she ran a brush through shoulder-length brown curls. She sat down on a low padded bench, her back to the bed, and stared off into space. The room was dimly lit, and the sounds of crickets and buzzing insects drifted in through the open window. "In a minute, Enrique."
The man sighed and flopped back on his pillow, his longish dark hair falling into his face. "Not in a minute," he said, but there was no heat in his words. "It's late."
Audrey's brushstrokes were short and frustrated, and she grunted as she encountered a small snarl near her left ear. "I don't know where she gets off. Who does she think she is?"
Enrique closed his eyes and yawned. He was wearing a pair of black silk boxers and the bedding felt cool and soft against his skin. "Who gets off?"
"Gwen." Frowning, she set her brush on the table in front of her and turned around to face her husband. Her eyes were flashing. "Who else?"
"Why are you still thinking about her and her invitation?" He threw his arm over his face to block out the weak light spilling from the bedside lamp on his wife's side of the bed.
"Humph." Raising an eyebrow at Enrique, Audrey turned back around and faced the mirror in silence. She picked up the brush again, then changed her mind and set it down in favor of a tin of rose-scented powder.
The man cringed, not needing to see his wife's face to know that the silence that had met his last words was not a good sign. "You know what I think?" he murmured.
"Most of the time." She sprinkled some powder into her upturned hand and tugged on the string that held closed the front of her nightgown, partially exposing her chest.
"Funny." He sat up and looked at the mirror, catching her gaze in the reflection. "I think you want to go." The rest of what he was going to say completely fled his mind as he realized where Audrey intended to apply her powder. His eyes darkened a shade.
Audrey's mouth dropped open and the hand that had been on the way to her neck and chest froze.
Enrique frowned.
"I do not!"
"Sure you do," he insisted absently, still avidly watching his wife's unintentional but surprisingly erotic display. "I love you so much and you are so beautiful."
"Err… thanks, honey." She was a little surprised by his sudden declaration of devotion. But she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth either. With a delicate touch, she applied a small bit of powder to her neck, then her hand drifted slightly lower and Enrique stifled a groan.
"Here," he scrambled down the bed and jumped off, tripping over his own feet as he stood. "Let me help you."
Audrey's eyebrows lifted and she glanced up at Enrique who was already at her side. "Are you okay? God, I haven't you seen you move that fast in ages." She gave him a confused look. "I don't really need any more pow–"
"A little more is always okay, right?" he asked eagerly, nodding in answer to his own question. "It can't hurt."
"Well, I guess it can't–"
Deciding he'd been granted permission, he snatched up the tin of powder. What he didn't realize was the lid was already off. Powder flew everywhere, but mostly over Audrey. "Oops."
"Enrique!" She waved her hand through the thick cloud of powder that now hovered around her head. And she began to cough.
"Sorry, sorry. Here, let me rub that in." He reached out for her with both hands, his fingers spread wide apart and a sexy smile curling sensual lips.
"Enrique, you pervert!"
"Whaaaat?" he complained, trying to look innocent. "I'm helping."
She started to laugh, but soon that shifted into violent coughing. Then a split second before his hands reached their prize, she slapped them away.
"Oh, come on." His voice was pleading. "I'm a good helper!" He blew a stream of air in Audrey's face, trying to disperse the powder, but only managed to send more of it up her nose and into her lungs.
"I don't need anymore–" A cough. "Of your." A cough. "Help." Then her face twisted. "Aaaaaaaaaaachu!"
"Bless you," he said quickly, his hand
The man sighed and flopped back on his pillow, his longish dark hair falling into his face. "Not in a minute," he said, but there was no heat in his words. "It's late."
Audrey's brushstrokes were short and frustrated, and she grunted as she encountered a small snarl near her left ear. "I don't know where she gets off. Who does she think she is?"
Enrique closed his eyes and yawned. He was wearing a pair of black silk boxers and the bedding felt cool and soft against his skin. "Who gets off?"
"Gwen." Frowning, she set her brush on the table in front of her and turned around to face her husband. Her eyes were flashing. "Who else?"
"Why are you still thinking about her and her invitation?" He threw his arm over his face to block out the weak light spilling from the bedside lamp on his wife's side of the bed.
"Humph." Raising an eyebrow at Enrique, Audrey turned back around and faced the mirror in silence. She picked up the brush again, then changed her mind and set it down in favor of a tin of rose-scented powder.
The man cringed, not needing to see his wife's face to know that the silence that had met his last words was not a good sign. "You know what I think?" he murmured.
"Most of the time." She sprinkled some powder into her upturned hand and tugged on the string that held closed the front of her nightgown, partially exposing her chest.
"Funny." He sat up and looked at the mirror, catching her gaze in the reflection. "I think you want to go." The rest of what he was going to say completely fled his mind as he realized where Audrey intended to apply her powder. His eyes darkened a shade.
Audrey's mouth dropped open and the hand that had been on the way to her neck and chest froze.
Enrique frowned.
"I do not!"
"Sure you do," he insisted absently, still avidly watching his wife's unintentional but surprisingly erotic display. "I love you so much and you are so beautiful."
"Err… thanks, honey." She was a little surprised by his sudden declaration of devotion. But she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth either. With a delicate touch, she applied a small bit of powder to her neck, then her hand drifted slightly lower and Enrique stifled a groan.
"Here," he scrambled down the bed and jumped off, tripping over his own feet as he stood. "Let me help you."
Audrey's eyebrows lifted and she glanced up at Enrique who was already at her side. "Are you okay? God, I haven't you seen you move that fast in ages." She gave him a confused look. "I don't really need any more pow–"
"A little more is always okay, right?" he asked eagerly, nodding in answer to his own question. "It can't hurt."
"Well, I guess it can't–"
Deciding he'd been granted permission, he snatched up the tin of powder. What he didn't realize was the lid was already off. Powder flew everywhere, but mostly over Audrey. "Oops."
"Enrique!" She waved her hand through the thick cloud of powder that now hovered around her head. And she began to cough.
"Sorry, sorry. Here, let me rub that in." He reached out for her with both hands, his fingers spread wide apart and a sexy smile curling sensual lips.
"Enrique, you pervert!"
"Whaaaat?" he complained, trying to look innocent. "I'm helping."
She started to laugh, but soon that shifted into violent coughing. Then a split second before his hands reached their prize, she slapped them away.
"Oh, come on." His voice was pleading. "I'm a good helper!" He blew a stream of air in Audrey's face, trying to disperse the powder, but only managed to send more of it up her nose and into her lungs.
"I don't need anymore–" A cough. "Of your." A cough. "Help." Then her face twisted. "Aaaaaaaaaaachu!"
"Bless you," he said quickly, his hand
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