Her skin warmed from beneath, and she instantly became subconscious, knowing a furious blush was giving her away.

“My wife, ladies and gentleman,” he was all teeth and devilish grin as he led the audience in a rousing applause, and all eyes fell directly upon her.

She hated this sort of attention, but there was no getting out of this now. There were expectations. Standing, she smiled graciously, bowing her head, trying to appear modest yet appreciative, as she made her way to the small stage.

He met her at the stairs and offered his hand to guide her safely up, and though she took it, she made sure to squeeze his fingers just so and looked up at him, through carefully mascaraed lashes, body language that made it clear she was aggravated.

“Let’s hear it for the lady of the hour!”

She was all grace and smiles as she made her way carefully on stiletto heels toward the podium..

What was one more fucking speech?


“Adam, you’ve got to stop doing that to me…you know I can’t stand it…being called out like that.”

He looked sheepish, and she felt just a little guilty for raising her voice.

“I’m just proud of you, honey. I can’t help it.”

He reached out and place his strong, warm hand on her thigh, exposed through the slit that ran too far up for her taste.

“It’s a gorgeous dress, Samantha, and you look amazing in it.”

That heat beneath her skin again. It took so little with him.

“And you deserved the award.”

She looked down at it, in her lap – a black square with a clear glass dome, etched with the words,

Samantha Ward

Burgess and Sacks Law Firm

Attorney of the Year

2020

“Thank you.”

“Now let’s get you home and out of that dress…and those shoes.”

“I can’t wait for that.”

Her feet were on fire, arches aching and toes cramping, and every part of her body felt poured in and sucked tight to make this dress look like it belonged on her.

“I can’t either.”

That grin again. And his warm hand squeezed her thigh. And her cheeks bloomed pink.

Even now, years into their relationship, he still knew how to make her blush.

Because she knew where this was headed, where his mouth would be soon, the positions he would put her in, the way it would feel just before he came.

And the heat beneath her skin would rise to the level of fever, the rose pink turning to red, creeping from her cheeks to her throat to her chest, burning in the aftermath.

Her skin always gave her away.


The cab pulled up in front of their home, and Adam paid the driver, got out and rounded the back of the vehicle to open her door. Samantha shifted her body to avoid ripping her dress and so that she could place both feet on the ground at the same time.

Adam took her hand, letting the other rest on her back, the dress open there so that the rough flesh of his palm touched her directly.

Again, a flush of heat.

They walked up the drive, up the three stairs to the door, and into the foyer.

She set down the award and her clutch, and turned back toward her husband. Unzipping the side of the dress, she let it fall, a pile of shimmering fabric and jewels at her feet.

Her hole body was on fire, but she smiled to see that it was now Adam’s cheeks that gave him away.

6 Replies to “Blush”

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