Is This It?

Gabrielle had a way of making Nestor feel sorry for nothing. The second she came downstairs and saw him sitting at the dinner table, a mug of coffee in his hand, his hair tousled, bags under his eyes, she knew that today she wanted to make Nestor feel sorry for nothing.

"I missed you last night," she whined. "I'm so sick of your business conferences running so late into the night. Who pays for these hotels anyway?"

She noticed him tense up and she smiled. He took a sip of his coffee and turned his body so that he faced her.

"I'm sorry, babe," he said, running a hand through his hair in an effort to flatten it. "The company pays."

"Well, they're not paying me for taking my baby away from me." She crossed her arms and pouted, leaning against the staircase.

"It...won't happen again," he said, biting his lip. "Well, not that often anyway."

Gabrielle walked over to him and sat on his lap, her long, purple skirt sweeping the floor as she walked. "I'd like to think so. How about we shop today?"

Another perk to making Nestor feel sorry for nothing was that he would always take her shopping to make up for it. She knew he didn't mean to leave her; he loved her, he just had business to take care of. That company worked him so hard. She placed a hand on face and stroked his cheek.

"Yeah, I'll take you shopping after lunch, okay babe?"

She smiled and leaned in to give him a kiss. She pecked him quickly on the lips, but he pulled her back in, giving her a long kiss. His lips were chapped; they felt rough against her soft ones. He wrapped his arms around her waist and stood up. She let out a squeal and let him carry her to the bedroom.

He gently set her down on the bed. She leaned back and let him pull off her bright clothing. He quickly undid her bra and pulled off her underwear with little hesitation. There was almost an urgency in the way he did it. She returned the favor, but there was something off.

"Nestor," she whispered.

He grunted in response.

"Nestor, is something wrong?"

She felt him freeze, but then he loosened up and shook his head. "Not at all, Gabby."

"You seem rushed," she said. "You're killing the mood."

She noticed he seemed distant, as if his thoughts were in a far off place. She didn't want to seem needy, but if he had something on his mind, he could tell her. He could tell her anything; they were married after all.

"I'm sorry," he said, sitting up. "I don't feel so well, I guess." He began to get dressed again with no protest, no fight.

"Wait, really? That's it? You're just going to get up and leave me here?"

"Sorry Gabs, I'm just a little distracted," he said.

"By what, if I may ask?"

"Just...work. Had a lot to do last night."

Gabrielle rolled her eyes and began pulling her own clothing back on, her mood turning rapidly sour. What could possibly be more important than her? Was she his wife or not? He was supposed to want to have sex with her. She let out an exasperated sigh and left the room.

Nestor sat back down on the bed, his head whirling. He couldn't keep doing this to Gabby. The fox-like woman crept back into his thoughts. And the one before her, the busty blonde. Her friend had also been good with her mouth. The one before her had the best ass. And the one before her...

He fiddled with the ring on his finger. He took it off and set in on the night table. It was constricting him.