Chapter 5

The next morning, a Sunday, dawned hot and clear. No cloud marred the open view of the sky and the sun was already beating down mercilessly on the earth. Harper had, for once, slept in almost as long as his wife. Somewhat groggily, he dragged himself from bed to make coffee as he habitually did every morning. Ashley, also as was her custom, murmured quietly in her sleep, burrowed deeper into her pile of pillows, and slept on.

Clad only in his pajama bottoms, Harper watched the dark drops of freshly brewed coffee drip into the pot and tried to recall the wonderful and terrible dreams that had come to him in the night. Dreadful beasts had visited him. A many tentacled thing with more eyes, limbs, and mouths than anything in nature could or ever should have had floated past him, its disconcerting stare looking into his very depths to see what he was made of. Beautiful women of every description had lain with him, each more skilled and enthusiastic than the last. Each of them showing him things he'd never even dared to dream about before.

All of the things he remembered were mere fragments, though. Hard to capture and harder still to actually analyze. All save one. He clearly recalled his wife, her belly heavy with child, calling out his name in anguish while writhing in the grip of some terrible formless beast. The memory brought an involuntary shiver as well as a question. Had it worked for him? Was it worth it?

Harper heard his wife padding down the stairs and he hastily poured cups of coffee for both of them. He had no idea how long he'd been spaced out, staring into the dark liquid.

"Harper McLain, you are a saint of a man," she said as she gratefully accepted one of the cups and loaded it with cream and sugar. With a little hop, she slid herself onto the counter next to her husband, idly kicking her legs against the lower cabinet doors as if she were swimming.

Harper felt nothing stir as he watched his wife sip her coffee over the rim of his own cup. He'd expected the old hurt and bitterness to well up, but felt nothing of the sort. The tight fitting t-shirt that showed off her slim waist and midriff. The form fitting pants that hugged her hips and thighs. Still nothing, he thought as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Putting his cup down, he moved to his wife and nudge her legs apart so he could stand between them as she perched on the counter.

"What's up, Harp?" she asked, the query reflected in her curious eyes.

He met her gaze and, for the first time in weeks, looked back into her eyes without difficulty. "I just wanted to do this, baby.". Ashley hat to hurry to move her mug to the side in time as Harper took her face in his hands and brought her lips to meet his. She made a small squeak of surprise then her mouth moved against his and her passion answered his own. Ashley moved her dainty hands up his back, tentatively at first then more sure of themselves, to finally return downward leaving light red furrows behind.

That moment, that kiss dragged on for eternity. Harper broke it to nip his way playfully down her neck before pulling her t-shirt up and over her head.

"What did I do right, Harp?"

"I just want to show you how much I love you, Ashley," he replied, meaning every word of it.

Harper suckled and bit softly at the pink buds of Ashley's nipples. Her tan breasts, both a little more than a handful each, were still as perky as the day he'd met her. His touch elicited a faint moan from his wife as her delicate nubs swelled and puckered from the brush of his fingers and tongue. Losing himself momentarily, he bit one a little harder than the delicate tweaks she enjoyed.

"Not so hard," she sighed, pushing his head away.

"Sorry," mumbled Harper, momentarily abashed.

"Always so insistent." Her hands framed his face and gave him a smile. "C'mere, you."

Their lips met again. As their tongues twirled, Harper worked the back of Ashley's pajamas and the thong underneath over the curve of her ass. When he could get it no further, he lifted her from the counter-top and placed her feet back on the kitchen floor. The stubborn garments fell to the floor and Harper steadied his wife as she gracefully stepped out of them, one lissom leg at a time.

Regret chafed at Harper inside like grit in a wound. "I owe you an apology," he said, pausing shortly to find the words that could fit his thoughts. Ashley said nothing, waiting patiently for him to continue. "I'm sorry. I've been so distant lately, Ash. I've hand a lot of things on my mind and..." Harper grew more hesitant as he spoke, the pauses growing longer between words until he eventually trailed off into silence. Just as he was about to begin again, Ashley stopped him with a tender hand on his cheek and a look filled with compassion.