Page 3 of K.I.N.: Karma Is Near
She slapped my chest. “I’m serious!”
“Aight!”
“No, because this shit ain’t funny. I’m thirty-two years old. I shouldn’t have to damn near schedule dick from my own husband.”
“Schedule dick is crazy.”
“See? This why I don’t talk to you.”
She climbed off me.
I grabbed her waist before she could get away.
“Come here.”
“Nope.”
“Sam.”
“I’m good.”
“You just said you horny.”
“I was. Now I’m irritated.”
She snatched away from me and walked out the bedroom.
I laid there laughing.
I shouldn’t have been.
Because now it was six-forty in the evening and my wife was standing in the living room looking good as fuck in a black dress she’d bought specifically for tonight.
Sam had always been fine, but four kids had put weight on her in all the right places. Her hips were wider than when I met her. Ass heavier. Titties fuller. She had a little softness around her stomach that wasn’t there when she was twenty-three, but I liked that shit. Samantha looked like a grown-ass woman now. My grown-ass woman.
She was standing in front of the mirror by the door messing with her hair for probably the tenth time, turning her head one way, then the other.
“Fuck.”
I looked up. “What?”
“This side ain’t curling right.”
“It look fine.”
She looked at me through the mirror. “That’s how I know it doesn’t.”
“The fuck that mean?”
“You don’t know shit about hair.”
“I know what look good.”
“And that’s supposed to mean something?”
“You look good.”
Her mouth twitched.
