I still remember that friday night, when a bottle of red was demolished with ease, as we both relaxed after the demands of the week, and such a long, long week it had been. Sipping the next red, we both relaxed and sighed again, as you nuzzled into my neck, lazy hand rubbing my chest, my right arm around you, holding you closer. And then, as the music played, in your little quiet voice, you said something, I'll never forget.
'Have you ever had a pair of handcuffs?'
'Excuse me?'
You smiled, 'Have, you, ever, owned, a pair of handcuffs…'
I stretched a little, so I could turn slightly, and catch your eye, to see you smiling warmly. And I knew that smile. It was mischief, personified. So I said softly,
'Would it surprise you if I said, yes?'
Her fingers tightened a little on my chest, in response, and she giggled, softly, feeling my heart race a little, the red wine loosening her tongue.
'Mary told me a story today…'
'Oh really…'
My thoughts were in disarray. Was she about to say what I think she was going to say?