Jay isn’t the guy for subtlety. You hadn’t thought twice before hugging a coworker, unbeknownst to the fact -shared by Jay who’d witnessed it from his desk- that the asshole was staring at your ass. Your ever so lovely husband didn’t let it slide. With a stupid grin and a few snarky comments, he lays you down, spreads you out and takes his time. His lips -you’d think he had twenty pairs of them the way you felt them everywhere on you. He left small swollen bites, soon to be pale rosey hickeys all over you.

It didn’t seem like such a big deal until the next morning.

You stand in front of the mirror, hiking up your turtleneck under your blouse, trying to cover up the signature he’d left. You mutter a few curses, simultaneously trying not to burst into laughter at how ridiculous. Jay, on the other side of the room idly watched, a lazy smirk carved into his face. “Pretty, aren’t they?” He teases.