Being Kendra_ Cribs, Cocktails, and Getting My Sexy Back - Kendra Wilkinson [62]
We’ll be cruising down Ventura Boulevard or Sunset Boulevard listening to “Caught Up in You” by .38 Special and “Take Me Home Tonight” by Eddie Money. Songs like that make us feel so good. We look at each other and it makes us see how much we love each other and want to be with each other forever. We talk about each other, memories of our relationship, what we’re looking forward to in the future. We laugh at certain things, we share, and most of all, we just have fun with each other.
In Hawaii, Hank spelled out our initials in flowers. What a romantic!
Hank is the cheesiest romantic guy I’ve ever met in my life. I’ll have a couple glasses of wine and be laughing my ass off, almost peeing in my pants because he is so serious about being romantic. I have to laugh because I have the man that every girl dreams of when they’re starting to fantasize about marriage. Sometimes I can’t believe I have him. He’s so perfect—sexy and romantic—and he never lets me go to bed without a kiss.
On date nights, we try to take our time over dinner. Our goal is to drag out the meal as long as we can, to savor it and not be rushed. This is our time. Usually Hank orders two dozen oysters and sucks them down in a matter of seconds. He’ll smile at me over the platter and say, “Oh yeah, baby, be ready for me.” Every time he has oysters I know he’s going to attack me later that night. I usually order soup or salad, but I might suggest that Hank order something so I can try a little too. He hates when I pick off his plate; that’s his pet peeve.
Of course, besides our aphrodisiac meals, we’ll also do some spontaneous little flirting like under-the-table footsie. Oh yeah, we don’t just limit our touching to footsie. We’ve introduced handsie into the mix. If we’re at the jazz restaurant, say, and it’s just the two of us and it’s dark and we’re in a little booth with candles lit, we’re going to have some fun back there. Just a little rubbing and having fun—nothing too scandalous for a restaurant but just enough to get Hank to say, “Check, please!” At that point we start talking about what we’re going to do to each other and how we always want each other in the car right then and there. We always want to have sex in the car and we do, a lot. We love having sex in the car. As a married couple with a kid, that’s about as sexy and risqué as we can get. Sometimes we can’t wait and it’s right there in the parking lot of the restaurant, or if we want even more privacy, sometimes we’ll just pull over on a quiet street. Of course, we’re always careful about who is around. Let’s just say that once we had to stop in the middle of it all and hit the gas and get out of there!
It’s a rush. And the car is not only a perfect place for us on a date night (getting a hotel room would be so much effort!), it’s also less time-consuming. The apartments we were in for the better part of Hank Jr.’s life were so small that making love and doing the passionate stuff was not right. It just didn’t make sense to us. I wasn’t in my home; the spaces were too small to have fun with. Our sex, with what we were going through, was short—we still had a lot of sex, but it wasn’t like making love. When we’re making love it’s in bigger areas and it’s a long, drawn-out, time-consuming process. While we were living in the Studio City apartment, I was uncomfortable making love because it wasn’t our real home. During that time we, of course, had plenty of sex—two, three times a week