I catch her sat on the counter with the spoon of ice cream half way to her mouth. Her face a parody of a naughty child caught doing what she shouldn’t. I see a smudge of white at the corner of her mouth as she steals a guilty look at the tub between her legs. I glimpse my favorite pair of black lace underwear beneath a loose sweater, her only other piece of clothing. It’s worn playfully of the shoulder to expose a beautiful kissable clavicle.
I must have stopped because I find myself just standing there, but just as I decide what I want to do with her, she has slipped of the counter with feline grace and has escaped into the bed room carrying the ice cream with her.
I know it’s a game. She has misbehaved, I’m supposed to follow and of course I will despite how much it irks me to be lead. I savored the thought of bringing her back to heel as I pushed open the bedroom door.