When I pull up at the library, I tuck my aching cock away so I don’t scare whatever gray-haired old ladies they’ve got working here. I’ve got Emily’s panties tucked away safe in my front pocket of my jeans and I reach down in there every so often to touch them.

When I get inside I walk to the circular desk in the middle. Instead of what I predicted to be an old lady wearing a cardigan, it’s a woman about the same age as my wife. She’s got on a polka-dot dress and her hair is up in a bandana. She smiles at me when she sees me and walks over to where I’m standing.

“How can I help you today?” she asks.

“I’m looking for my wife. Emily Wallace.”

“Oh,” she says, her eyes going wide. She looks me up and down then picks up a phone. “She’s in the back. I’ll page her.”

She turns her back to me as she whispers something I don’t catch into the phone. When she’s finished she turns back around and gives me a giant smile.

“I’m Nancy. It’s so nice to meet you.”

“You too,” I say, trying to be polite.

What I really want to do is stomp to the back myself and find my goddamn wife. But this is her place of work and I don’t want to cause her any trouble. I’ve already got a list of grievances on this place a mile long, so I try to focus on the problem at hand.

I pace around a little, but Nancy doesn't take her eyes off me. After what feels like forever, my bride comes around a corner looking like she ran the whole way here.

“Dylan.” Her voice is cool and completely opposite to the way she looks.

She’s in the dress she bought for our date night we had a few months back. “Why are you wearing that?” I say a little too loudly.

Emily shushes me and takes me by the arm. She leads me down a hallway and to an office in the back of the building that I haven’t seen before. Michael didn’t put cameras in here, and I’m already thinking about how he needs to fix that. I don’t want a place in this building where I can’t see her.

“What are you doing here?” she hisses at me, and then pokes me in my chest. “You weren’t in your office today, where you were supposed to be. And what’s this I hear about the boys being with the sitter last night? Do you have anything you need to tell me, Wallace?”

I know she means business when she calls me by my last name. Shit. I look down at her in that dress and I start thinking back to the last time she had it on. I fucked her in the bathroom of the restaurant, unable to make it home before I had her. Damn, how long ago was that date night? Was that really the last time I took her out? Sure, I’ve made love to her since then, but I can’t recall the last time I made a special night for us.

“Dylan,” she prompts, and I can see the impatience in her eyes.

“You asked me if I was hungry,” I say, taking a prowling step towards her. I move slowly, and her eyes widen. “Button, you know I’m always starving for it.”

She takes a step back, holding her hands up and looking over her shoulder towards the door. “Dylan, we can’t. Not here.”

“I’ll fuck you anywhere I want,” I say, taking another step towards her. My heavy work boots are loud on the tile floor.

“This is where I work,” she says through gritted teeth. Her fists are clenched at her side, but she knows better than to tell me no. “You can’t come in here and be all…all…you.”

I press her body up against the door and kick her legs apart. “You laid down the gauntlet when you threw your panties on my desk and sassed out of my office. You knew exactly what you were doing. Don’t try to deny it.”

Her cheeks burn red, and I know I’m right.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says, but she can’t meet my eyes now.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about what I’ve been up to,” I say, and she snaps her eyes up to mine. “You wanted a good dicking down, so you’re about to get it.”

“Oh god.” Her voice trembles as I kneel down in front of her and push up her dress.

“Hold it,” I say, and she grabs the material. “Running around all over town with not a scrap on the one thing that belongs to me.”

“Dylan, I didn’t—”

“You’re done talking. You said all you needed to on that note, practically begging for a fuck.” I lean forward and lick her pussy just how she likes it. “Cover your mouth up. I don’t want a sound.”

“Shit,” she hisses, and I watch as she takes one hand away from holding her dress and puts it over her mouth.

The sweet scent of her fills my lungs as I push her legs apart and run my tongue between her lower lips.

“Goddamn, it still tastes just like it did the night I popped your cherry.” I run my tongue back and forth across her clit. “I had no clue what I was doing back then. Just knew I wanted to bury my face in it and drink it dry.” I play with her clit a little more and her thighs try to close on me. I hold them tight so she can’t get away. “I was fumbling and trying to do what I thought felt good. I was a boy then. But not anymore. Now I’m your man, and I know exactly what this pussy wants.”

I look up and lock eyes with her as I lean forward and cover her with my mouth as I suck. Her eyes roll to the back of her head and I can taste her orgasm getting closer.

“You come in my office with a bare cunt again and I’ll bend you over my desk and paint your ass red,” I say, running my hand up the inside of her thigh before I push two thick fingers into her soaked pussy. “And if I find out you’ve been waving it around to everyone with not a stitch to cover it up, then I’ll make sure you don’t sit for a week.”

I rub that sweet spot inside her, knowing it’s the one place that drives her fucking wild. Her whimpers get louder as my rough, work-worn hands press against her tender little G-spot. It’s no match for me and what I’m demanding. I’ve had years of practice in how to make her body sing, and I’m a goddamn composer.

She cries out into her hand just as my tongue flicks against her clit. When I feel the warmth coat my fingers, I pull them out and lick them clean as I use my other hand to free my dick.

“Get on this and fuck me like you mean it,” I say, holding it out for her.

I grab her ass as she climbs up my body, just as desperate for the connection as I am. When I thrust home and I’m balls deep in her sweet honey, I push her back against the door and rut her like a prized mare.

“Goddamn, I love you, Button,” I groan, holding her tight.

“I love you, too,” she says, right before our mouths connect.

The taste of her and the smell of her combined has my big cock throbbing. It’s a tight fit and the way she’s squeezing me has my balls aching. Her thighs tighten around me and I keep kissing her to muffle her cries as she cums again on my shaft.

Every thick inch pulses with her, and I can’t hold back. I empty inside her, and just like always the connection restores us. The intimacy of what we do, even when it’s quick and dirty, with lots of dirty talk—it’s making love. Because there’s no one on this planet I love more than my wife, and I’m going to do a better job of making sure she knows it.

She giggles as I set her on her feet and pull her panties out of my pocket. “You didn’t tell me why you weren’t in your office,” she says as I hold the panties out for her and she steps into them.

“You didn’t tell me why you were all dressed up,” I say, raising an eyebrow at her.

She puts her hands on her hips, but all the aggravation from before has melted away and it’s more of a pose out of habit.

“Well?” I ask, waiting.

I tuck my cock back into my jeans and she rolls her eyes.

“I have to work late, and there’s some party across the street I have to go to. Some donors to the library are going to be there.” She walks up to me and puts her hands on my chest. “I’d rather be at home with my guys.”

“Then quit,” I say, but I can see that was the wrong answer.

She steps back, and suddenly the cold look from earlier is back. “It’s my job, Dylan. I can’t just quit. Besides, don’t you have something on your schedule to get to?”

Right when I open my mouth to respond, there’s a knock on the door.

“Emily? You in there? Sorry to bother you guys, but Mark has a question about a shipment,” Nancy says from the other side of the door.

I growl at the name. Mark. I didn’t get a chance to talk about him with Emily yet, and I can see I’m not about to get the opportunity.

“Yeah, be right out,” Emily says and then looks at me. Her eyes soften a little as she comes back into my arms. “We’ll talk about this when I get home.”

“Okay, Button,” I say, unable to stay mad.

I know I’m just going to go outside to my truck to watch her from the cameras, but it’s not the same. I want her in my arms all the time. So instead of fighting, I hug her back and kiss the top of her head.