Painting my room listening to 70s music has its upside.
Painting
Harm walked into their beachfront home to the sound of Exile's "Kiss You All Over" echoing from their office. In his hand dangled a can of freshly mixed paint which he dropped in the hallway where his wife had the other cans assembled.
They'd been at their home for exactly five years and been married for slightly longer. Her whim to suddenly want to paint while a little annoying had become quite the enjoyable experience. He used the roller and Mac did the edges and trim but what he liked the most was when she climbed a ladder.
The woman had the loveliest legs to stare at and a plump six that was accentuated when she balanced on one of the steps and leaned forward to reach a few spots. She caught him looking more than a few times and teased him mercilessly until his cheeks burned, what Mac deemed, "the loveliest shade of pink."
He was smitten by her, completely whipped and despite some ups and downs, irrevocably in love. Life was good.
"Hey babe. Brought the paint." He pushed open the office door and found Mac singing. Her hips swaying almost seductively to the music. The brush in her hand was an impromptu microphone that she habitually used to smear paint to the inside of the window. The loud music made her oblivious to his presence and Harm merely stood by the door watching.
He loved when the tough Marine relaxed and she was just a woman; his woman. A woman who could let go, have fun and not be afraid to act a little silly. Damn did he love her, evident by how his heart raced when she turned to face him.
Harm hadn't noticed that her palms were covered in paint when he wrapped his arms around her and dropped a kiss to the tip of her nose. He did notice, as it was impossible not to, that her hands came around to his six. She cupped and squeezed while grinning mischeviously.
"I wanna kiss you all over...and over again." Mac sang and then there was a wink and laughter, a coy expression that had him twisting to look at his back side to find two palm prints on his jeans.
He raised a brow, "You ruined my jeans."
"Guilty as charged...Just marking my territory." Mac said as she used a rag to remove the rememnants on her hands.
"That's a little possessive, dontcha think?"
He tried to hide the laughter in his voice but failed miserably.
Mac stepped up to him, her hands pressing against his chest and moving up to his shoulders. "No more than you claiming I was yours and only yours the first time we slept together."
"Oh...You heard that."
"Yep."
"Well that's just stuff guys say in the heat of passion."
She stepped away but only slightly. "You didn't mean it? Because if you're into sharing…"
"Ugh, no." Harm groaned and reached for his wife. He covered her lips with his, kissing her soundly as he backed them up to the small sofa which they moved to the center of the room to get it out of the way.
He dropped into the cushions that were covered by a drop cloth and pulled Mac on top. Her knees came to either side of him and his hands cupped her firm six as they kissed again only to be broken up by his laughter. "You are mine."
Mac twisted to glance down at his hands, the palms that he'd somehow smeared in paint left two nearly perfect prints on her six. She laughed and he did too, the sounds of happiness blending with the 70s music echoing through their home.
