Dear Husband, I Want this Marriage no More
My hands found their way to his hair, tangling in it as we kissed, fire already igniting inside us.
And when we finally pulled away, it wasn’t more than a hair's breadth, my hand dropping to his shoulder.
“Tell me,” Davy whispered, deliciously close, “does it still qualify as a date if we ditch the food and just make out, maybe explore each other instead?” His eyes sparkled, his tone amused, but there was still a hint of something dangerous.
It was enough that I shivered against him, my mind already conjuring images of how it would start and how it would end. But I shook my head, getting rid of the thoughts, and I looked at him.
Bab Populer