Summary: She loves her husband when he laughs. She loves her husband when he's serious. She even loves her husband when he's awkward and bumbling. But…she especially loves him when he's getting ready for work.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Lizzie Bennet Diaries; merely an avid fan.

Author's Note: Okay, you know that horribly sexy part of The Stylish interview where DVG is fixing his tie? Yeah. This is the result of that. It couldn't be helped. (BeeTeeDubs, if you have no idea what I'm talking about, just YouTube "Lizzie Bennet The Stylish" and it'll pop up - "The Lizzie Bennet Diaries: Interivew w/ Cast & Crew!")

She was doing it again. It was horribly distracting…she knew it was horribly distracting and still she wouldn't stop. He had a board meeting that he was already running late for and couldn't afford to miss, but that damn look in her eye was just…distracting.

"Stop it," he admonished lightly as he stood at the closet, going through and picking out a jacket for the day.

He glanced back to see a self-satisfied smirk on her lips and tried, and failed, to stop the smile from forming on his own face.

"Stop what?"

He could hear the sultriness in her tone and shook his head lightly to dispel the images cropping up in his brain. "You know very well what. I have meetings back to back today, Lizzie, and I'm already running twenty minutes behind."

"Then you should continue getting ready."

"Yes, well, the process would run a lot smoother if you would just stop staring at me like that."

Lizzie grinned in what he could only describe as wolfishly. She was sitting on the bed with her back against the headboard and her legs splayed out comfortably in front of her. The bottom hem of one of his old shirts from college was riding dangerously up her thigh and her hair was tousled in the way that got him hard every time.

And he knew that look in his wife's eyes—especially since it appeared so often; almost every morning when he'd be getting dressed for work. Usually, since she also was up and getting ready for the day, the look would only enter her eyes for a brief moment and could be sated with a deep kiss before she'd head off for a shower or to run a pot of coffee. Today, however, since she only had a couple of late meetings before having to catch a flight home for Lydia's graduation—he would follow her on the red-eye tonight—she had the chance to sleep in. And torture him.

She had once said it had something to do with seeing him so tousled, with his shirt sleeves rolled up and tie undone, that made her crazy. Since then, he had of course ensured that every now and again his appearance wasn't so polished in order to rile her up, but the current timing was most unfortunate and he was steadily losing valuable time.

He made the mistake of looking back at her and groaned at seeing her eyeing him up with her bottom lip between her teeth. "Lizzie!"

She jumped, as if caught with her hand in the cookie jar, and looked up at him with an innocent expression. He was no fool, however. He could see the sparkle in her eye and the way the very corner of her lips lifted, telling him very clearly that she knew what she was doing.

"Yes, dear husband?" she said playfully.

He laughed around a resigned sigh. "Seriously, Lizzie, you are going to make me horribly late."

She sighed. "Oh, very well. Finish getting ready, Will, and I promise to not bother you further."

"Thank you," he said as he started to turn around again to grab the chosen jacket off the hanger when he paused on a sound—a sound that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

A moan.

He slowly turned his head to see his beautiful, infuriating, and sleep-tousled wife stretching languidly on their bed, slowly pushing away the sheet away with her foot, toes extended, and letting his shirt rise as she arched her back until he caught a glimpse of his favorite lacy, navy blue panties that she loved to wear to torture him.

He groaned, fully resigned to the loveliness that was his wife, as he turned fully around and stalked towards her, slipping off the tie from around his neck and beginning to unbutton his shirt before he knelt on the bed and captured her lips in a searing kiss.

She smiled for a second against his lips—in triumph, he knew—before reaching around and holding him to her, letting him fall easily between her thighs and wrapping those around him as well. "I win," she whispered with a grin before pushing the shirt off of him and beginning to unbutton his trousers.

He huffed a laugh. "You will be the death of me one day, I swear."

"Mmm, and what a way to go," she replied with a laugh before cutting herself off with a moan as he sucked on that spot behind her ear that he knew drove her crazy—as crazy as she drove him.

o-o-o

They were both breathing heavily and looking thoroughly disheveled. The sheet had somehow twisted itself around her left leg and was wrapped around her ankle, hanging off of the bed. Her head was resting on his outstretched left arm, her right one flung across his stomach, lifting and lowering with each of his labored breaths.

"I'm late," he said between breaths.

Lizzie couldn't help it…she laughed. "Yes, I'm afraid you are," she said as she turned to look at her husband, grinning at the relaxed and content look on his face.

He grunted as he forced himself to sit up, just enough to grab his phone off of the nightstand, before plunking back down on the bed. Lizzie watched as his thumbs flew across the screen before he tossed it to the side.

"There. I'm stuck in traffic."

She giggled. "And how long do you expect that'll be?"

He turned his head and gave her that mock glare she loved so much before reaching around and pulling her roughly towards him. "Oh, it's gridlock today, I'm afraid. I just can't seem to find my way out."

"That's terrible!" she replied with laughter in her voice. "You could be stuck for hours!"

Author's Note: Thanks for reading!