Love Is Louder by Antoinette Candela, Paige Maroney

right now, so I could look into his eyes and kiss his soft lips.
    We can fix this. He still wants this.

    I stand in my walk-in closet and appraise myself in the full-length mirror. I’m thinner than usual, thanks to the past few weeks of stress, but the soft lace of my black thong, matching bra, and garters still hug my subtle curves. I blow out a slow breath, debating on what to wear on this warm, humid, June evening. Short, black, strapless dress or long, silk dress with spaghetti straps? James loves my legs and shoulders, so I go with the short, strapless dress. Pulling it from the rack, I hold it up in front of me and close my eyes.
    We can make it work.
    “Brie.”
    His gravelly voice startles me. Whirling around, I steal a breath when I see his heated eyes rake over my body. A burning need bubbles inside me. I itch to touch him, and I itch for him to touch me, but he controls what happens between us, and I eagerly comply. I’ve missed the connection so badly that I’d do anything to repair what we had to how it once was. I want the pressure of our careers to take a backseat so we can enjoy each other again.
    Flashing me a smile, he pulls at his tie, yanking it loose and working the buttons on the front of his shirt, exposing his muscular tanned chest. He closes the space between us in two long strides. With a crooked grin giving his handsome features a devilish look, he takes the dress from my hands, returns it to the rack, and rests his prowling hands upon my hips.
    “God, you...you look so damn good.” His eyes dance with mischief, his smile half-cocked. He tilts my chin with his finger so that our eyes lock and runs the outside of his hand against my cheek. I can already feel his erection poking my belly as I readily press harder against him. I want to be touched by him so badly it feels like madness.
    I don’t want to go out to dinner; I want him to take me right now on the floor in my closet.
    “Yoga does wonders.” I rub my hands down his chest as I peel off his white dress shirt, letting it drop to the floor. This is how it used to be. Spontaneous and hot. I didn’t expect this change in him, but I’m not going to sit here and question it. I have the old James back. I don’t want to take things slowly, but I know I have to. I can’t appear needy and desperate, even though I want us to get through this arduous point in our marriage.
    Is that what created the distance between us? Needing him too much?
    He scrapes his teeth across his bottom lip and pulls me tighter against his body. His gaze on me never breaks. His hands roam down my sides to my waist, my hips, and my thighs as his lips travel from my ear to my neck, leaving a trail of hot wet kisses that make my belly clench and my thighs tighten. I’m breathless and a little dazed by his touch and scent.
    “The reservation is at eight. I would love to show you what you do to me when you wear black.” He smiles that smile that robbed me of my breath six years ago, and that little dimple pops on his right cheek that teases me to kiss it. His usual clean-cut face now has a hint of stubble, and his hair is ruffled and has grown a little bit more, making him appear sexier and casual.
    Is this the first time I’ve noticed this change?
    I can’t remember because it’s been a while since we spent real time together. I’m guilty of Googling” the signs that your spouse is cheating, “and one of the red flags is they change their appearance to please their new love interest, the one that has stolen their affections.
    Stop! He’s taken on more cases at the office. He just doesn’t have time. That’s all it is. Enjoy yourself. Live in the moment.
    I tug on his hair and meet his gaze, swatting all my insecurities and assumptions out of my mind and inhale his clean, musky cologne-tinged scent.
    “What is it that I do to you?” I taunt, as the rapid beating of my heart drowns out everything except the sound of his voice.
    “Let me show you what I can