"I...will not...come," the breathless whine pouring from his phone was killing him. "...until you get...home."

Chibs stood with his mouth slightly parted, staring at the video clip he had just opened. She had recorded it the first night of this run. A five-day run. Five days?

It was a side shot of his wife's legs from just above the knee to her toes. He instantly recognized the comforter denting under her weight as the one on their bed. Her foot intermittently pressing into the mattress and relaxing, the muscle in her calf flexing, her toes spreading then retracting and curling. He knew that toe flex, he knew that whine. Christ.

He was surprised his phone didn't crack from his tightening grip for all the times he snuck off to watch the 30-second clip while they traveled up the coast for business and back. He was addicted to it, needing to see it during every meal and gas stop. His low growl held a warning when he called her on day two to check-in.

"Yer a wicked, wicked girl, ya are."

Her response, a giggle...then a single gasping moan of his name before disconnecting, stripped the moisture from his throat. While on the run his other calls went unanswered. She's wicked, he muttered to himself as her voicemail message filled his ear yet again. Wicked!

Sitting at the table listening to Clay, trying to keep his mind on the business at hand was damn near impossible. Over the past five days, Chibs had memorized every second of her video. He could hear her in his ears even though his dusty burner was sitting closed on the table like everyone else's. Once released from church, leaving the clubhouse without appearing to actually want to was imperative. His brothers would keep him there as long as possible if they thought he was hurrying home. Jealous bastards. Riding on a semi-erection was a pain, literally - but the 20 minutes it took to get back to their little house would have been torture anyway. I'm coming, pet.

Pulling his bike up to the porch and jogging up the steps to their door, he practically snatched it off the hinges to get inside. Slamming it shut, he yelled for her while engaging the multiple locks on the door. "Khia! Khia love, where are ya?"

The only light in the house was coming from down the hall. Ditching his boots with a double clump, he stripped out of his cut and ditched his phone, headed quickly for the bedroom.

Rounding the corner, he stopped short. She was sprawled out low on their bed. Her loose, curly hair splayed out above her head, a beautiful mahogany frame for her deceptively angelic face. A white tank top and a shimmering pale orange triangle of fabric below her tempting swirl of a navel were her only covering. And with no bra to camouflage her arousal, her hard peaks stood out dark and rigid under the thin canvas of her top. She lay flat on her back, her hand buried down the front of her panties, its motions barely visible. He had no doubt she knew he was watching.

"Khia."

Seeing him in the doorway she smiled lazily, slowly removing her hand and sitting up. "Baby, where have you been? You guys got back almost two hours ago."

How did she know? Clay had held them up but had it been two hours? His brain blew past the details, focusing on the one thing that mattered in the dim light of their bedroom…her.

"Love, have ya been at it all this time?" Chibs rakishly smirked and took a few steps into the room but was halted by her raised hand.

Ignoring his question, she spoke quietly. "You said you were coming straight home to me, Filip. No hangin' about, you said. You promised."

Chibs wanted to climb onto that bed and shut her complaint down with a smothering kiss to her hot slit but he knew by her bringing up his very own words that he had to tread lightly. His sweet wife was a vindictive little thing and it was very possible that he would be tasting none of the juices that clung to her fingers if the mood struck her. Sheer stubbornness would keep her blocking his advances all night for her own entertainment and his punishment.

Bravado aside he spoke softly, approaching the bed cautiously like a man with a skittish colt, his face sincere. "Love, I swear ta ya we had things to sort out once we got back. Nae, I didn' forget ya. I swear it."

"I think maybe you did." She laid back and rolled over onto her stomach. Chibs' jaw went slack at the sight of her perfectly round cheeks on display with only a peek of the orange satin between them. Studying her nails, she spoke without looking at him. "Maybe I don't want to play anymore. Maybe I should get up and do something boring. Maybe make you dinner like a good little wife."

Chibs sank to his knees between her feet dangling from the bottom of the bed, rubbing his hands up the backs of her calves, pleased to feel the tremor she couldn't hide. "I think not, rascal."

She looked at him over her shoulder, arching to tease him more with her hips swaying the double mounds of flesh he coveted, before looking away again. "Maybe that's what you want…a prim and proper wife."

Chibs chuckled low, indecent, sliding his hands up higher, "Oh no, pet."

Dragging his callused hands down the backs of her thighs, his mouth watered for wanting to tongue away the goosebumps rising up in their wake. "I'd divorce ya tomorrow. I need m'bad girl. C'mere an' give me my welcome home kiss, yeah?"

She executed a sultry, slow head turn over her shoulder that had his dick screaming for permission to let loose. Mother of God and all the saints, he thought. She owns me. Settling her lust-filled gaze on his face, her eyes - as mischievous as the devil's now matched his.

Chibs leaned forward, his lips a breath away from the skin of her calf. His voice low and rough, saturated with need and love, vibrated against the muscle shooting electrical charges up her leg. "Khia love, give me what come for."

"It's been five days, Filip," she breathed. "Come get it."

-fin-

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A/N: Might do a part two...idk ;)