1.1 The Chronicles of Us - Vice & Virtue

Chapter thirty-three

It's already close to six, so I put away my new clothes in my side of the closet and undress in the bathroom. After rinsing my body in the shower and touching up my mascara, I change into the babydoll. The loose fabric sways when I twirl on my toes, which reminds me ... panties or no panties?

Why not be bold?

While spreading out the Chinese take-out I picked up on my way back, I hum a happy tune. Mostly, I'm trying to distract myself from the fact that this surprise might very well be considered weird.

What if he can't appreciate it?

What if it makes him want to run for the hills?

No time to ponder it over. Keys rattle on the other side of the front door. Tex is home.

Nervous and giddy, I take place on one of the ladder-back chairs. From the hallway where I can't see him, he shouts, "Why does it smell like Christmas in here?"

I glance at the lit apple pie-scented candle. Yes, that was too much. Thank God I decided against a trail of rose petals. Maybe it's best to let him figure it out by himself.

I hear him throw his keys on the counter when he walks through the kitchen into the living room where I'm seated at the dinette set.

As expected, cautious suspicion and a great deal of alarm shine through his eyes. His gaze shifts from the candle to the food and then to me face. "What's all this?"

I twiddle my thumbs under the table. "I wanted to surprise you."

He looks uncomfortable. "I don't really like surprises."

What a sad thing.

"I think you'll like this one." To convince him, I stand up and walk around the table, showing him my new outfit. "Well?"

His brows go up, the corners of his lips, too. "Okay, this I do like."

Thought so.

He eyes me up and down, dragging his teeth over his bottom lip. Without a doubt, he's imagining undressing me. The moment of intense ogling ends when he most likely realizes he simply can undress me.

Not yet. I hold my hands up when he strides my way like a man on a single-minded mission. "No touching before dinner." I gesture at the set table. "Let's eat first."

"Why?" He pouts like a boy being denied ice-cream before supper, which is practically the same. "We can heat it up afterwards."

True.

No!

I take place in my seat again. "I'd rather have dinner first. We might need the fuel."

"Let me get this straight, your surprise is for us to have dinner while you sit opposite of me, dressed like that, and I can't touch you?" He shakes his head. "You suck at surprises, Birdie."

My eyes drops automatically. Perhaps, I shouldn't have made such a spectacle out of it. He's obviously not happy with it.

I look up when he starts laughing. A deep one, all the way from his diaphragm. "You know what? why the fuck not. I'm kinda liking this crazy train we're on. Besides—" He winks and I melt. "—I know what I'm having for dessert."

I peek—read: stare with dreamy eyes and parted lips—at how he undresses himself. What a marvelous sight to see his ribcage press against his inked skin when he pulls the shirt over his head or, better even, the way his delicious abs tighten while he unbuckles his belt. Still, nothing rivals the removal his jeans and therefore, the appearance of his impressive bulge.