If I Wrote Romance Novels

...Rays of afternoon sun streamed through the window above the sink, where she stood rinsing dishes. On the outside, she looked cool, calm, and beautiful. On the inside, her mind was racing, thinking of the millions of things she wished she could get done before her son awoke from his nap.

She heard her husband's footsteps as he entered the room, but didn't turn around. She had too much to do. Suddenly, though, he was standing behind her, and he reached out to push a stray hair behind her ear. His hand brushed ever so gently across her cheek as he did it, sending a warmth through her face.

He wrapped his strong arms around her lithe waist. She felt his warm breath on her neck as he asked, "How was your day?" "Stressful!", she exclaimed, continuing to rinse the dishes. "I have so much..." Her voice trailed off as her husband started leaving a trail of soft kisses down the side of her neck. Oh, for crying out loud, she thought. Can't he see that I'm busy? Why did he ask about my day if he wasn't going to listen?" Mmm, the kisses are nice, though.

"What was I saying?", she remarked, turning to face him. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer, his hands under her shirt, resting on the small of her back. He leaned in to whisper huskily into her ear, "You said you were stressed, and have a lot to do. I noticed earlier that you seemed to have a lot to do today, so... I went grocery shopping and cleaned the bathroom". "OH", she moaned, a fire suddenly ablaze between her legs. She tore the fabric of her pants, in her impassioned haste to remove them...