Page 23 of Leviticus
“Wait, you snapped at her? You yelled at your new wife?” Ollie interjected.
“No, no. I actually snapped my fingers to get her attention. I don't’ know what came over me, but that’s not the point of what I’m saying.”
“Oh, I think it is. That was a total Dom move, brother,” he laughed.
“No, the total Dom move was when she called me a liar before bed and I pushed her against the wall and guided her through an orgasm with my thigh between her legs before picking her up and grinding against her like a horny fucking teenager.”
“Like a fucking teenager,” Ollie cackled. “Oh, God, this is so good. You got off just grinding like a bunch of horny kids. This is priceless. The stoic and ever rigid Leviticus Temple lost his kiddie juice in his fucking pants while dry humping his wife. Oh Lord, I’m crying. Real tears, would you look at that?”
“You’re a dick.”
“You lost your load in your pants.”
“Assface.”
“Jizz stain. On your pants.” He sounded like he was going to die from lack of air, he was laughing so hard. Meanwhile, I was contemplating putting my head through my desk, not just smacking it on top of the hard surface. Yes, that would be a better solution to my current predicament.
“But seriously, Levi. Just talk to your wife. It’s easy, and that’s how things work in the kink world. Hell, Levi, you’ve taught a fucking class at Abditory on communication and negotiating scenes! You know this!”
“Yes, I did, but this is different!” I tossed back emphatically.
“How!?”
“She’s my wife!” Banging my head to concussion was sounding better and better.
“Who the hell cares! You have words, Levi. Use them,” he giggled.
“Don’t use my words against me, Ollie,” I scolded.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, brother. Now, go spend time with your wife and figure out how to talk to her. I think you’d both be better for it.”
“That wasn’t the plan,” I protested quietly.
“Best laid plans and all that shit. Talk later. Now go.” With that, the line disconnected, and I was left to my own thoughts again. I had told her to just relax the rest of the day. If I could have, I would have gone to the bedroom and taken a bath. Something to soothe the ache in my shoulders — likely from holding myself so tense around her. She was beautiful, there was no denying that. But what got me more than anything else was her demeanor. There was an innocence about her, just like all the girls at Zion, but there was also this depth… this additional thing about Ruth that I had not expected.
Before I knew it, the smell of something delicious pulled me away from my office and into the kitchen. I stood for a moment and watched as Ruth deftly worked her way around the kitchen, concocting some delicious meal. She was good in the kitchen. There was also a sadness to her today that hadn’t been there yesterday. I had been avoiding her all day after my behavior last night.
“It smells good,” I stated softly. I watched as her posture stiffened and she became tense. Just like my mother did when my father was around. I didn’t want that. I had to fix this.
I watched as she plated the food before I joined her at the counter.
“Here, let me,” I offered, reaching for the plates she carried.
“No, it’s alright. I don’t mind setting the table, Leviticus,” she protested quietly, her eyes not meeting mine.
“It’s Levi, and please let me help, Ruth. Please?” I softened my voice, doing my damnedest to show my sincerity. Finally, she let go of the plates, letting me carry them to the table. “And please leave the dishes,” I added on, watching as she stayed in the kitchen and began to place the pots and pans in the sink.
She finally left the mess and joined me at the table.
“Please sit,” I offered, pulling her chair out and acting like the gentleman I knew myself to be for once.
“This really does smell amazing. What is it?” I asked, taking my own seat across from her.
“Nothing all that special. Smothered pork chops with mashed potatoes and roasted carrots. I did want to ask, do you grow your own vegetables? I’ve never seen carrots that size or color before,” she added. Hearing that little bit of life breathe back into her felt like sweet relief.
“No, I do not grow my own vegetables, but Zeke grows a small garden on Malachi’s property. We all share,” I explained.
“Hmm,” she murmured, her eyes lowering back down to her plate. I didn’t want her to close off again.
