He loved her, she knew he did. It was in the little things he did, like always keeping her favorite food on hand. Every night, she ate a bowl full of ripe blueberries, drenched in heavy cream. As she lounged in bed, spoon full of berries to her lips, she looked over at him. He was perched on an elbow, watching like an expectant puppy. She smiled and offered him a berry. He, like always, refused. When a berry escaped her lips, and slid down between her breasts, she said “whoops” and he graciously offered to lap up the wayward berry. His tongue licked the creamy trail and slurped up the naughty berry.
Then it dawned on her. It was winter. Blueberries weren’t even in season. It wasn’t often she lost a blueberry, yet every time she did, her husband quickly agreed to retrieve it. She looked at him, he grinned and looked at the bowl of berries. She dropped another berry and saw a sexy grin cross is lips, he practically jumped to retrieve it. She finished the berries and slurped the cream, making sure to leave a milky gloss on her lips. He kissed it off for her.