Coming around the corner I see her perched at the kitchen table with papers strewn about. She has this cute little crease between her brows from her look of deep concentration. And as cute as I think she is right now, I can’t help but sigh at yet another one of our weekends consumed by the CAC. I understand Bette loves her job and I respect and even envy that sometimes, but it’s slowly starting to eat her alive and it’s killing us both. I continue to stare at her as I contemplate how we have started to drift apart. I love this woman more than I have ever loved anyone in my life and somehow we just seem to keep failing to connect. She twirls the ends of her hair around her finger and I decide that it’s enough,. We are going to fix whatever it is that is holding us apart. I give myself a little nod of determination as I make my way towards her.

She’s so deep in thought that she doesn’t even register that I’m behind her until my hands begin easing the tension between her shoulder blades.

“Mmm…T…”

“Hey Babe, how’s the paper work coming along?”

“The usual, lots of useless red tape to satisfy Franklin. I’m sorry I had to do this today.” Her apology is heartfelt, but when you hear it for the umpteenth time it starts to lose some of it’s sincerity.

“I know; it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not” she sighs. Maybe it isn’t just me who is starting to hate her job. She leans her head forward with a low moan as I work my massage up to the base of her skull.

“That feels so good.”

She slips the glasses from her face and concentrates on my movements. She looks so relaxed at the moment; something I haven’t seen in quite some time. An ember of an idea flares in my mind and my hands seem to take on a life of their own. They travel back down her strong shoulders and my fingertips slip down around her ribs gently brushing the sides of her *****. She lets out a small gasp that makes me shiver in delight. I love that I can make her feel like this. She says nothing so I continue to run my hands down her sides until I reach the hem of her shirt. My face is buried in her hair now as my lips seek out the sweet skin at the nape of her neck. I can feel the heat from her body before I even come into contact with her stomach. It’s radiating through the think cotton of her tank top. She tastes heavenly as I trace my tongue along her neck and gently nuzzle behind her ear; the scent of her shampoo making my head spin. As I gently caress her stomach I can feel the muscles twitch beneath my hands.. Only when I actually grasp her shirt does she speak up.