It looks like half the work has already been done for me. Violet had some elaborate plans last night, it seems. I didn't make it past the kitchen yesterday, too focused on getting the cardboard cutouts set up and readying the bedroom for a serious sex-a-thon, with only half an hour to accomplish it all.
Beside the pile of blankets is a box of Fruit Roll-Ups. I'm not sure what those are for, so I leave them where they are and make a trip to the wine cellar. Champagne never lasts long with Violet, so I want to have her favorite wine handy as well.
Once everything is organized, I shower and shave, throw clean sheets on the bed, and wait.
Dinner arrives promptly at six. I put everything in the oven on warm, apart from the salad, which goes in the fridge. It's already full in there. Violet has some sort of fruit platter and a bunch of dips, including chocolate and non-dairy whipped topping. I move things around so everything fits.
By six-fifteen I'm antsy. Usually Violet's home by now, so I send her a message to check her status.
I get one back five minutes later:
Leaving work in 10!
It's accompanied by a kissy face emoticon. That's disappointing. It takes her a good twenty minutes to get home, and that's in good weather. It started snowing again around three. It's just flurries, but it'll slow her down. That means she'll be at least another forty minutes. If not longer. I stay busy by setting the table and lighting candles. I put the bottle of champagne on ice and uncork a Riesling.
At twenty to seven, I get another message from her:
Sorry, got tied up! Just walking out the door. Home soon <3
This is definitely not going the way I planned. I check on dinner. It's still warm, so that's good, but it's been in the oven for almost an hour. I figure there's nothing I can do but wait, so I flop down on the couch, turn on the TV, and channel surf.
Half an hour passes, and Violet's still not home. I don't want to annoy her, but I'm starting to worry. Just as I'm about to send her another message, the house alarm beeps.
"I'm home!" she calls.
I pick myself up off the couch, straighten my button down, which is now wrinkled, and greet her at the side door. She's leaning against the wall, tugging off her knee-high boots. She shrugs out of her coat and lets it drop, along with her purse. On the floor beside her is a box of files.
She blows her hair out of her face and opens her arms, leaning forward as I step into her. She mashes her face against my chest. "I could fall asleep right here."
My irritation at her lateness wanes. "Long day?"
"So long, and hard. Like your dick."
I chuckle. "Hungry?"
"For your dick?"
I laugh again. "For dinner, but you can have him for dessert, if you want."
She pries herself off me. It seems to take some effort. She really does look like she could pass out standing up. "Jimmy got me takeout from that Thai place down the street a couple hours ago."
Fucking Jimmy. Ruining my date plan. "Oh."
"I'm sorry. I mean, if you want to order takeout I'm sure I could have something small." She fingers the collar of my shirt. "Oh. Were you planning to take me out?"
"No. I, uh, I ordered in for us. Darren told me about the proposal for the Darcy account, and I thought we could have a kind of dual celebration. You know, like celebrate our anniversary and the account at the same time since we didn't get to have dinner last night."
"Oh, Alex, you're the sweetest. I meant to tell you about it, but then we got naked and obviously I forgot. I didn't eat all that much, and it was at, like, five, so I can eat again."
She slips a hand behind my neck and pulls me down for a kiss. It's a quick one, though, with no tongue.
"We can eat in the living room," I offer. "It looks like you'd set up for a picnic or something there last night."
Violet bites her lip and her eyes widen with mischief. "Oh my God! I totally forgot about that! We'll have to save room for my dessert."
"To go with my cock?"
"Mmm." She pats my bulge. "I have special plans for him."
I smile. "I love special plans. Why don't you go hang out in the living room and get comfortable. I'll bring dinner to you."
"You sure you don't want any help?"
"I got this." I kiss from her neck to her cheek, then send her on down the hall.
I guess it would've been a good idea to tell her what I was planning instead of assuming she'd be home by six like usual. I make a detour to the dining room and clean off the table, blowing out the candles and putting away the dishes so she doesn't find them later and feel bad. I bring the champagne and glasses with me to the kitchen. It takes me a while to find the salad bowl. It's in the wrong cupboard.
I take dinner out of the oven. It looks a little dry, but smells fantastic. I give Violet a small portion, in case she feels obligated to eat it all, and transfer the plates to a tray.
Crossing to the living room, I notice she's changed the station from hockey to TLC. I stop short when I find her lying on the makeshift bed by the fireplace.
Her skirt is on the floor, but she's wearing leggings, so she's still mostly dressed. The first three buttons of her shirt are open, with her lacy bra peeking out. She looks like she's ready for some fun. My dick thinks so, too, and immediately stands at attention. Except her eyes are closed and her lips are parted-and not because she's got her hand in her panties.
I set the tray on the coffee table. Her chest rises and falls at regular intervals. Sinking down beside her, I run a finger across her cheek. "Violet? Baby?" She doesn't move at all.
I could wake her, but she's obviously exhausted from last night. And probably stressed about presenting her proposal for the Darcys. I press a kiss to her forehead, cover her with a blanket, and grab the remote. Sitting on the couch on the other side of the room, I change the TV back to hockey and settle in with my dinner.
So much for an awesome night of celebrations and blow jobs.
4
Unbliss
VIOLET
I wake up at three in the morning. The first thing I notice is that I'm starving. I'm also in bed. With Alex, which makes sense considering the time. Except I have zero recollection of getting here. And I'm wide awake-like, ready to get up and start my day, which is insane, considering it's the middle of the night.
Alex is sleeping on his side, one massive arm tucked under the pillow. He protectively cups my boob with the other hand. He's frowning in his sleep. He has a game tonight, and when he's worried about his competition, sometimes he gets anxious. They're playing Toronto, and Alex has a longstanding hate-on with one of their players.
My stomach rumbles loudly, so I slip out of bed. A midnight snack will help calm the beast in my belly. I'm wearing a tank top and a pair of my Marvel Comics underpants. I wasn't wearing them when I went to work today, and I don't remember getting changed.
Confused by my lack of recall, I grab my robe from the bathroom, shove my feet into slippers, and pad down the hall. The light from the kitchen illuminates the stairs enough that I don't trip my way down. I head straight for the fridge. Inside are takeout boxes from my favorite restaurant and the fruit platter I prepared two days ago.
I review what happened when I arrived home from work last night. I was tired-that's for sure. After a night of very little sleep and a lot of make-up-for-missed orgasms with Alex, plus our argument before work, I spent the morning in meetings, the afternoon working on Buck's account, and then finally, at the end of the day I made time to review the changes on my PowerPoint for the Darcy account.
It shouldn't have been difficult. All the legwork has already been done, but it's my first presentation, and the account is huge, so I don't want to fuck it up. I stayed at work way later than I'd planned.
Alex told me he had a nice dinner prepared to celebrate our most recent sexiversary and the Darcy account. I went to hang out in the living room to wait. I even freshened up my beaver in the bathroom. And then I laid down …
Oh, shit.
I fell asleep on him.
I owe Alex a blow job. Probably more than one now. And I still haven't had the opportunity to use all the fun treats and items I purchased to celebrate our sexiversary. Not that we didn't do a good job celebrating already, I just had other tasty plans to go with it.
I check the takeout box. Alex ordered me chicken parmesan from the place that uses lactose-free cheese. It's stupidly expensive, but it tastes amazing and doesn't give me the moops. He's so sweet and considerate.