“Do not bite your lip so hard,” I chastened. “Or I will have to lick it better.” She blinked. “Hold on. Lick it better? The phrase is kiss it better!” “What phrase? I was talking about the fact that so many animals lick their wounds, or those of their calves or cubs.” “I am not a calf. Or a cub. Or a cat!” “Maybe not,” I acknowledged, my voice lowering to a foreign, husky growl. “But you are my wife. And I’d happily lick any part of you that was hurting.”
