Answering to Him (Old-Fashioned Husband) Read Free

mutinous grumble, but my husband, easy-going as always, chose to think the former. With each passing moment I grew increasingly anxious. I couldn’t just sit here! I had to say something. But I could feel my resolve deserting me with each second that ticked by, draining out bit by bit.
    Steeling myself, I vowed to get his attention another way. I leaned over and kissed his forehead. I could see his lips tilt upward in a smile, but he must have thought that was it, because he kept his eyes focused on the page he was reading. I moved down and nibbled his earlobe. When I still got no reaction, I leaned down and bit his shoulder bone, ever so gently. It was my go-to move to get his attention, and finally, Oliver set down his book and turned toward me.
    I flushed at the lust in his warm brown eyes. I wasn’t a huge fan of glasses, but Oliver’s black r ims seemed to frame his eyes just perfectly, making them stand out. He kept his short black hair trimmed neatly, and had strong, prominent features. A high forehead, a long nose that ended at the bow of his mouth. He had such full, tempting lips…when I’d been in college, staring at them had made me lose track of time.
    The most attractive thin g about Oliver was his voice. His voice was always soft, his words having the tilt of a southern accent, though he vehemently denied its existence. There was something that underlined his words—a quiet authority, it seemed to me, that perhaps encouraged me to think he would be the kind of man who liked to spank a girl.
    I started unbuttoning his aqua plaid shirt, feeling the warmth of his eyes on me. Once open, it exposed his wide, large shoulders, a chest full of black, curly hair, and a stomach that was almost completely flat. He joked occasionally about needing to hit the gym, but I thought he looked great. He could pass for a man much younger than his forty-two years.
    “What’s gotten in to you?” he asked, clearly pleased.
    All I could do was smile wanly. Our sex life had been less than stellar over the last few years, though I couldn’t quite put my finger on the why of it. I still found him attractive, and I knew he felt the same. Now that Jonah was older, we had more time for each other—despite the incident earlier in the day. There was just something missing between us… although I suspected I knew exactly what that “something” was. Still, I didn’t have any room to complain—Oliver was a good husband, who worked hard to provide, and was a terrific father to our son. I knew I should just be grateful for what I had.
    He leaned in to kiss my neck, but I pulle d away. He responded by sliding the strap of my top down my arm, leaving my shoulder bare. Normally, I loved the feel of his warm mouth tracing kisses along my body, but tonight I couldn’t relax. I pulled away from his embrace and turned my back on him. Nonplused, he began scratching my back. Normally, it was my favorite thing and could soothe any mood, but tonight it just irritated.
    “I’m not a dog, you don’t need to scratch me like one,” I snapped.
    That got his attention. “What’s the matter, honey? Seems like nothing is making you happy tonight. What can I do?”
    I turned back around to face him, unsure of how I’d answer. “Have you ever thought about spanking me?” The words just popped out. As soon as they’d escaped my mouth, I felt myself freeze. I looked at Oliver—did my panic show on my face?
    He spread his full lips in a wide smile, his eyes lighting up as he did. “Spanking you? For foreplay?” I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I just smiled tentatively. I felt the butterflies in my stomach take flight when he patted his knee. “Well, come on over here.”
    I suddenly felt incredibly shy and couldn’t make myself meet his eyes. Still, I slid toward him, inch by inch, hardly daring to hope that this was real or would fulfill my pent-up fantasies. When I felt my knee brush against his, I looked up, seeing Oliver grin at me