Leon was standing in front of a large island with a spatula in hand. He took his cooking skills seriously. The moment he saw me strutting into the room, he grinned like he was looking at a runway model or, in my case, a plus-sized diva.
I grabbed a slice of bacon and took a bite. âWhat kinda waffles are those . . . pecan?â I loved his cooking. He didnât mind experimenting and trying new things.
âYou know it, baby,â he said with that goofy grin of his. To most women, my husband probably wasnât much to look at. He was about five-nine, thin, dark skinned with a receding hairline that seemed to get thinner every time he brushed his head. But he had the gentlest brown eyes and an outgoing personality that people were drawn to. Not to mention, he had a financial mind that was so sharp it made him the genius that he was.
âYou want me to make you one?â he asked, because my husband was thoughtful like that. Thatâs why we made a good team. He loved to cook. I loved to eat.
I shook my head. Otherwise, Iâd never get out the door. âNo, Iâm not hungry. Iâll just eat a granola bar on the drive down. I gotta keep a watch on this figure.â
He was staring at my titties so hard, Leon looked like he was a second away from drooling. âIâm watching and that figure looks mighty good from over here.â
He drew me close and I leaned in and made sure my breasts brushed his bare chest. I then French-kissed him until I felt an erection jerking beneath his sweatpants.
âDamn, you keep that up you wonât be going anywhere except back to bed,â he warned with a playful chuckle. Iâd been married to Leon long enough to know he was serious. He loved making love to me. He just had a problem holding out long enough for me to get mine. Itâs a curse. I seem to have that effect on most men.
I eased back and smiled. âIf I stay home in bed, then I wonât be able to pick up something extra special to model for you tonight.â
That got his attention. Leonâs eyes got wide with interest. âSomething like what?â
Grinning, I pulled away. âI guess youâll have to wait until tonight to see what little something something I come up with. I might even find a pair of pumps to match.â
Leon drew in a slow breath. âDo I need to get a stack of dollar bills ready?â
I paused long enough to bat my eyelashes at him. âYou might want to make it two stacks. Tonight I plan to drop it like itâs hot.â I cooed and then dipped down, winding my hips seductively, giving my husband a quick demonstration. âSpeaking of tonightâs entertainment . . . can I have some extra money?â I asked in a whiny voice.
âNo problem,â he said, and reminded me of one of those bobblehead dolls. âIâll transfer five hundred dollars into your account just as soon as I get done making breakfast.â He walked over and flipped the waffle iron and I gazed down at the golden brown cake.
âThank you, baby.â I kissed his lips and gave him a little tongue, hoping heâd decide to transfer a little extra. My husband was rich but stingy at times. He said he didnât get rich by letting his wife spend all our money. I guess there was some truth in that. My money was my money, but his moneyâLeon actually gave me an allowance, and a hefty one at that. Itâs just with the lifestyle I was accustomed to, it was never enough. So in order to pull Leonâs purse strings, I had to serve up a little extra Ms. Netta from time to time.
âBaby, I wonât be too late. Zakiyaâs planning to meet me after church and weâll probably have dinner while weâre in Williamsburg.â
He nodded. âSee ya tonight.â He kissed me one last time.
âAbsolutely,â I purred.
I grabbed another slice of bacon and was walking through the foyer when my head started spinning. I