Hold My Tear, I’m Getting My Wife Back!

Leanne had always been the reserved type who kept her cards close to her chest, let alone wear her heart on her sleeve.

So, whenever she did open up, it was like she had a direct line to Curtis' heart, sending tremors through him with the slightest whisper of affection.

He gripped her by the nape of the neck, his kiss fierce, almost savage, as he ground against her lips, breaking past her defenses, stirring her breaths into a frenzy.

Leanne held his shoulders, her blouse undone, not by fingers but by the teeth. Curtis lifted her, her skirt fanning over her perch, revealing her pale, delicate legs on either side.

Summer was in full bloom in the yard, with hydrangeas bursting in pink and white, their living room awash with her ragged breaths and soft, kitten-like mewls.

Like a ship steadied by the big guy and sure hands of a sailor in the tempest, they navigated the storm together.

With her head tilted back, a flush spread under her skin, Curtis watched over her, his gaze darker than the night sky.

His voice was hoarse, caught in the absurd beauty of the moment, coaxing, "Baby, will you always

couldn't stand to lose. "That's so good," he whispered, holding Leanne close, his love

chest, tears welling in her eyes as she clung to

bedroom, dawn

buried

gasping for air,

for work, Dr. Castillo," Curtis teased, pressing a kiss to

"Dr. Castillo" reignited Leanne's professional dedication, pushing past her

two surgeries

mark on her neck, she dabbed at it with concealer, finally opting for a turtleneck

a turtleneck in this

cold,"

but