Page 92 of My Husband Problem

She scrambles back again, now sitting on the arm of the couch.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” she chokes out.

I push myself up to sitting, trying to keep from scowling since she’s clearly emotional and I don’t want to upset her further.

But what the fuck?

“You have absolutely nothing to apologize for, Astrid,” I say.

“Oh, I do. I mean.…that was…” She swallows hard, then launches herself off the couch. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“I’m certainly not upset,” I tell her, trying for a small smile. But smiling is tough when your heart is trying to pound out of your chest, your stomach is in knots, and you have a terrible feeling that horrible things are going through the mind of the woman you just helped orgasm.

“I need to go.” She spins toward the door.

“Go?” The word comes out harsher than I intended.

She doesn’t turn back. “Yes. I have to…I have…a meeting.” Then she’s slamming out of the house, and I am sitting on the couch, staring after her, wondering what the hell just happened.

CHAPTER 18

ASTRID

It’s how he smells.

Dammit.

I’m programmed to react that way to his scent. I’ve done this to myself.

Well, with Thea’s help.

And his voice. Okay, I don’t usually have that when I’m giving myself orgasms, but I always respond to it, so when that was added in…

Oh myGod.

What. Did. I. Just. Do?

Oh, just had an orgasm. With my husband.

This is horrible.

Okay, the scrambling off the couch, and running out of the house with no explanation, then not answering the phone any of the twelve times he’s called might be worse.

Or equally bad.

I’m not exactly sure how I look when I burst through the door of Thea Chabert’s physical therapy clinic, and I’m not going to ask her to describe the expression on my face. I don’t want to know. Because she is sitting next to an exercise mat, where LarryBozart is doing leg lifts, and her eyes immediately go wide, and she jumps to her feet.

“Keep going until you can’t do any more, Larry. I’ll be back,” she tells her patient.

“I’ve only got about ten more in me,” Larry huffs.

“Perfect,” Thea says. “Help yourself to water and the cookies Karen brought in earlier when you’re done.”

She is already striding toward her office at the back of the building.

Larry looks thrilled with this turn of events.

“Sorry to interrupt, Larry,” I tell him.