Chapter 1: Introduction
I should probably admit something upfront. I was not innocent in that gaming war. Not even close.
She likes to pretend she’s the mastermind—the saboteur, the chaos generator—but the truth is, I’ve known her too long to lose without a fight. And if she thought sitting half-naked on my lap while gaming was only going to distract me?
Yeah. No.
Okay, fine. A little.
I mean—look at her. Sitting there like she owns the place. Gray sports bra, soft cotton panties, legs tucked in just enough to be polite about it, posture screaming confidence while her fingers ruthlessly sabotage my controls. Bossy. Smug. Entirely aware of the effect she’s having on me.
That’s a view you don’t just stumble into. That’s a view people don’t even imagine properly in their daydreams. How many times do you see a couple spending “quality time” like this? Half-naked. Competitive. Actively restraining themselves for an entire day.
Yeah. We’re unique.
Well—she is.
If you’d asked me, back when we were still figuring out what married Sundays were supposed to look like, I’d have said something painfully predictable. Dinner. A movie. Maybe a walk. Something sweet. Something safe. Let’s be honest—most of us learn romance from movies, and Hollywood has exactly one definition of it: a date that ends in sex.
Turns out I married my best friend instead.
The kind who looks at a perfectly normal Sunday and thinks, What if we made this harder? More creative. More controlled. More… cruel, if I’m being honest.
Because here’s the thing she doesn’t say out loud: this only works because we both know the line. And because we both know exactly how easy it would be to cross it.
I can’t kiss her right now.
Because a kiss would mean pulling her closer. Pulling her closer would mean hands on bare skin. Bare skin would mean forgetting the rule—the very specific, very deliberate rule of nothing more than touching in this room.
And if I start kissing her, there’s no heroic restraint montage. No noble fade-to-black. We wouldn’t “cool off.” We’d end up naked, exhausted, laughing into pillows, and completely guilty of breaking our own stupid challenge.
She knows that.
That’s why she leans back just a little more. Why she smirks when I miss a save. Why she pretends the sabotage is accidental.
So yeah when I said, “I love the face she makes when she orgasms,” it was technically my UNO reverse card to her teasing, but was technically a truth. I mean, yeah, we had sex only once on our first night... but remember she came three times? Twice on the bed and once when we both too shower togeather to clean up. She makes that cute face when she tries to control her orgasm and fails. Eyes shut, lips parted, a soft gasp that's more of a surprised sigh. It's adorable. It's sexy. It's everything I want to see again. And again. And again.
So yeah, when I needed a comeback, I came up with that line.