LOVER

"Lover, huh?"

Mac has one hand on her lip, the other holds the basket of clean clothes she's recently pulled from the dryer. She cocks her head to the side and glances down at the Scrabble board that lay at the very center of our coffee table - a game we often played as colleagues and now means something else as lovers.

The idea to leave little messages to one another began as a fluke. I had terribly lost a game to her during our honeymoon and Mac had used the tiles to spell words that would tease me. It then became a cute form of communication for us and a source of one upmanship as to who could create the more complex words. She wins, she always wins because the woman has a dictionary for a brain evident on how badly she usually beats me at Scrabble.

I lower down the case file I was studying and also look at the board.

"Yep, lover. Do you want to challenge me on that?" Mac raises an eyebrow and sets the basket on the oversized armchair, the hand on her hip waves over the board.

"We're married. We can't be lovers if we're married." I say to which she begins to chuckle and grabs a small dictionary off the corner of the coffee table.

She steps towards me and drops onto my lap, her knees coming to either side of my legs as she licks a finger and searches for the correct page. "Actually, we are lover's… Ahem, Lover - Noun. 1. A person who is in love with another. 2. A person who has a sexual or romantic relationship with another. We are 1) in love and 2) having an incredibly romantic and very sexual relationship."

"I don't know about romance but we definitely have the sex part down." Her breath catches when one of my hands travels between us, slipping under the shorts she wears only to find she's not wearing any panties. That makes me groan audibly especially as I find her a little slick and warm. "You're not wearing underwear."

"They're...in...the...oh..bas-basket." Mac's holding onto my shoulders, her fingers digging into my skin and her eyes close when I slide one finger past her folds and curve up to find that tight bundle of nerves I know will take her over the edge. "You don't play fair."

"With you? Never." My other hand is under her t-shirt that she immediately strips off and tosses in some errant direction. She sucks a breath as my mouth clamps over one erect nipple, my name is a moan that comes from the back of her throat. Mac's rocking against me now, her body taking pleasure in the hand still between her legs, still stroking her intimately. Damn, she's so hot, so wet when she clamps around my finger and the other that joins when she rides my hand.

Desperately, she reaches for me. Her delicate fingers pulled at my rock hard erection through the flap of my boxers. "Inside...now." She commands and I am helpless to stop her when she strokes my lengths, makes it impossibly harder and then guides me into her through the parted space between her skin and those damned shorts.

I want her naked. I need her naked and am about to stop this whole interlude when Mac raises herself up and lowers down to fully take me into her. "Oh...damn." We hold each other. Her hands gripping to my shoulders, mine over her hips and all we can do is stare for a moment. The gentlest of smiles stretches across her lips and then she motions back to the scrabble board. "Are we lovers?"

"Yeah, Mac. We're lovers." And then she moves, a rolling of her hips that has me thanking every celestial being that she's my wife.