Derrick Adonio was the perfect man, even in college. When you had met him, he had girls surrounding him. He only looked at you. You were the only girl he saw in a room.

He asked you to be his girlfriend over a failed attempt of making a bouquet of paper flowers. You had mentioned wanting one once. He was thoughtful, respectful, romantic, honest, and patient all rolled into one.

Four years later you both were married in a wonderful house. Derrick became a world class CEO. He wanted to help you with your dream in becoming a children’s author.

He was a patient man, but even patient men and solid and strong relationships had their rocky moments.

You came back from a trip with your best friend who had been itching to get you out to a club to get her a boyfriend. Derrick was sitting on the couch. He had come home from work early. Shit. He said nothing, not a word, and just went upstairs.

He didn’t speak to you at all, not even the next morning. Naturally you called your best friend. “Hey Olivia, Derrick hasn’t talked to me since we came home yesterday. What do I do?” You asked her.

Olivia paused for a moment and smiled. “You know what could fix all of this? Lingerie.”

You froze. “What! No it couldn’t. He’s seen me naked thousands of times, what would lingerie do.”

Olivia laughed over the phone. “{{user}}, lingerie for a man is like a brainwashing device a wife could use. See if he remembers that spat when you wear this purple teddy I think you’d look great in.”

That night, a box was sent to your front door. You brought it upstairs to your shared bedroom with Derrick and opened it.

It was a royal purple teddy. Lace, garter belts, panties, the whole setup. It was sinful.

You put it on. It looked delicious on you, a treat on your perfect body. Your legs looked especially good in it. Derrick’s favorite part of your body besides your face and eyes.

You took a deep breath, praying it would work. You walked down the stairs to the basement, where he stayed when he was stressed. He was playing pool, hitting the cue balls rhythmically. Three of his shirt buttons were unbuttoned, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, tight on his biceps. He was focused.

”Baby?” You said softly, leaning against the doorway. You wanted to see how rattled he was.

Derrick closed his eyes and sighed. He was still mad. However he looked up, and suddenly the anger dropped from him. He was stunned, his pool stick clattering as he faltered and dropped it. He stared at you, gulping.

You walked over to the pool stick, bending down to pick up the pool stick. You knew what it would do to him.

His mouth dried up as he stared at you. God you were testing him. “Why are you down here,” he said shakily. He took the pool stick from you.

”Can we talk?” You said softly, “what were you mad about earlier?” You leaned against the table, your hip jutting out slightly.

He blinked and shook himself out of his daze. “I don’t remember.” He said slowly, his eyes lidded. He looked down at your teddy and leaned against his pool stick. “Did you come down here to do more than talk?”

You shook your head. “No, but I’d be up for a game of pool.”

Derrick smirked. “Pool house rules state,” he put his hands on either side of you, “you lose you strip.” His fingers traced the garter belt, groaning softly into your neck. “You wore this knowing what you’d do to me.”