serenity.
“Uh…” She floundered, considering whether she had—turned out she had—and whether she should admit it, but before she could speak, he smiled, full and bright.
“Just kidding, Quinn. You like your steak medium, right?”
“Medium well.”
“An abomination,” he said as he turned back toward the stove. “How can you taste the meat if it’s burned?”
“I’m sorry that I prefer my food cooked, monsieur,” she said as she walked over to the table with Ethan.
“One day you will see the error of your ways,” he retorted and then refocused on the task.
As she bounced Ethan and made silly faces at him, she considered the domestic tableau before her. They could be any parents anywhere, settling down for a meal after a long day. Recently, many of her days had ended like this with her or Alexander making dinner while the other attended to Ethan, followed by bath time. And Alexander more than did his part, not hesitating to take part in daily routine, standing as a partner with her in the day-to-day minutia that was so a part of life with a baby. Alexander had proven his commitment to work early in their acquaintance, but this full-throated embrace of this life was impressive.
And arousing.
Achingly arousing.
Add his physicality to the mix, the way he managed to look like a cover model whether it was noon and he was headed to the park or 4:00 a.m. on those mornings Ethan decided predawn was the perfect time to play. She’d felt like a schlub on more than one occasion, but mostly, she couldn’t shake the near-irresistible desire to kiss him, hold him close, feel him moving inside her.
Today was no exception. The black sleeveless T-shirt he wore clung to his pecs and abdomen, outlining the hard muscles she knew lay underneath, and his shorts, though loose, pulled tight around his cock, cupping it as lovingly as she would have liked to. Quinn’s fingers practically itched with the need to touch him.
This is how you got into this in the first place, stupid! she scolded herself but to no avail. As Alexander moved around the kitchen like he owned it, like he belonged there, with them, she wanted to scream with desire, unbidden images of all the things Alexander had done to her, things she still wanted him to do, flashed through her mind. Dinner and bath time passed in a blur, and after they lay Ethan down, it just the three of them: her, Alexander, and her raging arousal.
She stood at the sink, washing and rewashing the same plate, when Alexander whispered into her ear. “I think it’s clean, Quinn.”
She shrieked, not having realized he was so close, or that she was so distracted, and then tittered at her own response. Tilting her head toward Alexander, she looked up, the words on her tongue freezing in her throat when she saw the naked heat in his gaze. Slowly, without breaking eye contact, he reached over and turned off the faucet and then trailed his hand up her forearm, making the hairs there stand on end. Up he went until he reached her jaw. He traced the skin of her jaw and then trailed his fingers across her lips, which tingled at the contact. And still he looked at her, eyes blazing, the rich brown color almost eaten by his dilated pupils.
“I told myself I’d follow your lead, let you set the pace,” he whispered, still stroking her lips. “But I know you feel it, this thing between us. I don’t want to wait any longer.”
Unable to stop herself, she stepped closer, leaning in toward him, the action pushing his finger hard against her lips. Instead of responding, she opened them and took the tip of his finger into her mouth, swiped it with her tongue, eliciting a moan. Encouraged, and more turned on than she’d been in a year, she grabbed his T-shirt, uncaring of her wet hands, and pulled him close, relief flooding her when she felt his hardening cock pressing into her belly.
And then, a wicked smile curving his lips, Alexander took over. He swooped down and captured her lips
“Uh…” She floundered, considering whether she had—turned out she had—and whether she should admit it, but before she could speak, he smiled, full and bright.
“Just kidding, Quinn. You like your steak medium, right?”
“Medium well.”
“An abomination,” he said as he turned back toward the stove. “How can you taste the meat if it’s burned?”
“I’m sorry that I prefer my food cooked, monsieur,” she said as she walked over to the table with Ethan.
“One day you will see the error of your ways,” he retorted and then refocused on the task.
As she bounced Ethan and made silly faces at him, she considered the domestic tableau before her. They could be any parents anywhere, settling down for a meal after a long day. Recently, many of her days had ended like this with her or Alexander making dinner while the other attended to Ethan, followed by bath time. And Alexander more than did his part, not hesitating to take part in daily routine, standing as a partner with her in the day-to-day minutia that was so a part of life with a baby. Alexander had proven his commitment to work early in their acquaintance, but this full-throated embrace of this life was impressive.
And arousing.
Achingly arousing.
Add his physicality to the mix, the way he managed to look like a cover model whether it was noon and he was headed to the park or 4:00 a.m. on those mornings Ethan decided predawn was the perfect time to play. She’d felt like a schlub on more than one occasion, but mostly, she couldn’t shake the near-irresistible desire to kiss him, hold him close, feel him moving inside her.
Today was no exception. The black sleeveless T-shirt he wore clung to his pecs and abdomen, outlining the hard muscles she knew lay underneath, and his shorts, though loose, pulled tight around his cock, cupping it as lovingly as she would have liked to. Quinn’s fingers practically itched with the need to touch him.
This is how you got into this in the first place, stupid! she scolded herself but to no avail. As Alexander moved around the kitchen like he owned it, like he belonged there, with them, she wanted to scream with desire, unbidden images of all the things Alexander had done to her, things she still wanted him to do, flashed through her mind. Dinner and bath time passed in a blur, and after they lay Ethan down, it just the three of them: her, Alexander, and her raging arousal.
She stood at the sink, washing and rewashing the same plate, when Alexander whispered into her ear. “I think it’s clean, Quinn.”
She shrieked, not having realized he was so close, or that she was so distracted, and then tittered at her own response. Tilting her head toward Alexander, she looked up, the words on her tongue freezing in her throat when she saw the naked heat in his gaze. Slowly, without breaking eye contact, he reached over and turned off the faucet and then trailed his hand up her forearm, making the hairs there stand on end. Up he went until he reached her jaw. He traced the skin of her jaw and then trailed his fingers across her lips, which tingled at the contact. And still he looked at her, eyes blazing, the rich brown color almost eaten by his dilated pupils.
“I told myself I’d follow your lead, let you set the pace,” he whispered, still stroking her lips. “But I know you feel it, this thing between us. I don’t want to wait any longer.”
Unable to stop herself, she stepped closer, leaning in toward him, the action pushing his finger hard against her lips. Instead of responding, she opened them and took the tip of his finger into her mouth, swiped it with her tongue, eliciting a moan. Encouraged, and more turned on than she’d been in a year, she grabbed his T-shirt, uncaring of her wet hands, and pulled him close, relief flooding her when she felt his hardening cock pressing into her belly.
And then, a wicked smile curving his lips, Alexander took over. He swooped down and captured her lips
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