When he saw what she was wearing he did a silent cheer. He had a chance.
If she came out in the long pajama pants and flannel shirt he didn't even bother.
But….she was wearing the tank top and the shorts that were so worn that they were snug around her.
And it was a Saturday night so they'd cuddled on the couch and watched a romantic comedy, and Julie was spending the night at a friend's house, and combining those two things with her state of dress meant that he had a very good chance of getting laid.
He would increase those chances by getting his hands on her the moment she slid into bed and whispering, "You smell amazing."
She laughed and rolled towards him, her body half on his, her breasts pressing into his chest, "Is that the best you've got?"
He glared a little at her, "It was a compliment."
"It was a seduction line, and a sad one at that."
"Hey," he said, "At least I tried, besides, you know you wanna," he told her smiling, "You're wearing your lucky shorts." His hands drifted down her back, grabbing her ass and shifting her over him so her hips pressed against him more firmly.
She wiggled her hips and he felt his eyes roll back as he groaned. She laughed and scraped her teeth over his jaw, "You mean you're lucky shorts."
"That too," he says and finds her mouth, rolling them so his body is over hers. His lips find hers, his teeth nip at her bottom lip, soothing the bite with his tongue before deepening the kiss.
He wants to go slow, but can't help but rush to get her shirt off, wanting her naked as soon possible. Once both of their tops are gone his mouth is back on hers and his hands are on her breasts, expertly caressing the firm mounds his fingers brush over one nipple, moving back and forth until it's hard. She groans and the sound vibrates through his mouth. His lips leave hers to travel down her throat, tongue licking a trail over her pulse point, before circling her nipple. She gasps and wiggles her hips and he can't help the self-satisfied smile that appears on his face.
"We're home alone," he whispers, "You don't have to be quiet."
She laughs, actually laughs and its disturbing enough to have him pulling away from her intoxicating flesh. At his glare she stops laughing, but she's still smiling as she says, "Oh, honey, come on now."
He pulls all the way away from her now and rakes his eyes over her half naked body, "Is that a challenge, Mrs. Taylor?"
She shrugs, "It was more of a statement of disbelief, but, my competition loving husband, if you want to consider it a challenge, that's fine by me." She smiles at him now and arches her back a little. As expected his eyes drop from her face to her chest, "Betcha can't make me yell, not even a little bit."
"Well, little lady," he leans closer, lips almost brushing hers, "Betcha I can."
He kisses her deeply, then begins slowly moving down her body.
As with most other challenges in his life, he had no intentions on losing.