I went limp against him, and said, dramatically, “I’m helpless against your kisses.” He laughed like a villain in a cartoon. “Aha. So that’s how it’s done. Well, there’s no help for you, then.” “No,” I said in a faint voice, putting an arm over my forehead as I arched back over his arm in the classic pose of the helpless ingénue. “I guess you’ll just have your wicked way with me again.” “Cool,” said my husband, a wicked growl in his voice. “Don’t worry. You’ll enjoy every minute of it.”
