You glanced over at your husband while he's focused on the computer, silently willing him to notice you in which he does. "What's with that look, love?" he asks.

With a huff, you stormed into the kitchen before you could even catch your breath, there he stood behind you, grabbing a fistful of your hair, pressing you against the counter. His presence warm and commanding. "Oh, the little brat wants attention," he murmurs into your ear with his front pressed against your back as he nibbled your earlobe.