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.

its banks. His voice was hoarse, caught in the

years, but that very misstep taught him what he couldn't stand to lose. "That's so good," he whispered, holding

chest, tears welling in her

room to the bedroom, dawn approached as the storm

her alarm and buried her face in

her, but she lazily resisted until he playfully pinched her nose. When gasping for

work, Dr. Castillo," Curtis teased, pressing a kiss to her lips and relenting. "Go back to sleep. I'll

Castillo" reignited Leanne's

two

on her neck, she dabbed at it

at the hospital, Donna teased, "Wearing a turtleneck in this heat? Aren't

cold," Leanne

gets cold, but your arms