Aleatha Romig

CONTENT COPYRIGHT ROMIG WORKS 2023

Damien

 

 

The idea of cohabitation had never been as important to me as it was tonight. Although I had plenty of ideas of what I wanted to do to and with Ella, the weight of the day and the range of emotions had taken their toll. After dinner, I took a quick shower. Standing under the spray, I concentrated on the one thing I could control.

Our safety.

Ella was here.

Duchess was here.

I was exactly where I wanted to be.

I would stop at nothing to maintain that sense of security.

With droplets of water dripping from my hair and a towel around my waist, I walked into the bedroom. That well-being I desired was personified in the room before me. Golden illumination shone from the lamps on the bedside stands on both sides of the bed. Duchess was sleeping, curled into a circle near Ella’s feet.

Ella sat against a stack of pillows, her computer in her lap. Her face was pink and freshly washed of cosmetics. Her long dark hair was down, cascading over her shoulders. It was her nightgown that made me smile. She was wearing one of my many Indianapolis Colts t-shirts, and it had never looked better.

“Nice nightgown.”

Her smile lit up the room. “I packed so fast that I forgot a nightgown.”

“Did you forget panties too? Because I’m a big fan of easy access.”

She closed her laptop screen as she scanned me from my wet hair to my toes. “Speaking of easy access, I’m waiting for you to drop the towel.”

Of course I did.

The plush towel fell near my feet.

I lowered my tone. “I hope you like what you see.”

Ella’s smile grew. “Very much and I like that you’re showing it to me.”

“Only you.” Ella knew me better than anyone. Nudity was perfect when a woman was stark naked. I’d be okay with making that a house dress code. When it came to me, it was another story. I liked the power of inequality.

From my perspective, allowing a woman to see me as I was now was more than sexual. It evened the playing field, and I wasn’t about even, not with anyone other than Ella.

I was about to throw back the covers and climb into bed exactly as I was when my phone rang. Ella leaned across the bed to read the screen. “It’s Marsha.”

“Saved by the bell,” I said as I nodded toward the phone.

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