Descent (Steel Brothers Saga #15) - Helen Hardt Page 0,10

his pubic bone, creating a luscious friction. I leaned in farther and clamped my mouth onto his.

I wanted to kiss him. I wanted our bodies melded together in all ways possible when my climax came.

And it was coming. It was coming quickly.

With each plunge upon him, I came closer to the peak in the distance. The peak of the highest mountain in the Rockies.

I moaned into his mouth, our kiss deepening, and then—

I shattered. Shattered into a million pieces that broke apart and then found their way back together in Brad. I was part of him and he was part of me.

He broke the kiss, grunting. “Come, baby. That’s it. Come with me.”

I knew the exact second he released. He pushed down on my hips and held me there, my orgasm still rolling through me.

I closed my eyes and held the moment. Held it in my heart and in my soul.

One perfect moment in a lifetime.

One perfect moment…

When the climax finally subsided, we were both breathing heavily, sweat coating our bodies. Brad nipped at my neck, slid his tongue over my flesh.

“Can’t ever get enough of you,” he said, panting. “Never enough.”

I knew the feeling well.

I was glad he still did.

Chapter Seven

Brad

I hadn’t meant to give in. Hadn’t meant to make love to her tonight. So much I had to tell her.

She’d hear it from me. Not Dr. Pelletier or anyone else.

Her diagnosis.

Dissociative identity disorder.

The words sounded so ominous as they echoed inside my head.

And Wendy was free. Released. Yes, she’d promised we’d never hear from her again, but I didn’t believe her.

I hoped she was sincere, but I had no intention of holding my breath.

Daphne had to know Wendy was out there.

I couldn’t keep any of this from her.

“Hey,” I said against her soft neck. “Let’s go to bed.”

We’d talk in the morning.

I woke at six o’clock. Five was normal for me, but I allowed myself an extra hour. I turned in bed to touch my beautiful wife, but she was gone.

I smiled.

Probably feeding the baby. She was such a good mother. So devoted.

Is my child safe with her?

The question I’d asked Dr. Pelletier. He couldn’t guarantee anything, but he wasn’t concerned.

Now I wondered why I’d even asked the question. There wasn’t a more devoted mother on the planet than my Daphne.

I rose and pulled on some pajama pants and a T-shirt. Then I padded out of the bedroom and peeked into the nursery. Yes, there she was in her rocking chair, feeding our son.

“That’s a beautiful sight,” I said.

She smiled. “My favorite part of the day. Beginning a new day with my precious son. We’ll go watch the sunrise together in a few minutes.”

“I’ll join you. I’ll get some coffee on.”

“Your mother already started a pot.”

“Great. I’ll pour us both a cup and wait for you on the deck.”

She nodded. “I won’t be long.”

I walked to the kitchen. “Hey, Mom.”

My mother looked up from the paper. “Hi, sweetie. Coffee’s ready.”

“Thanks.” I poured two cups. “Daphne and I are going to watch the sunrise. Want to join us?”

“Sounds like I might be a third wheel. You go ahead.”

I nodded and walked out onto the deck. Ebony and Brandy bounded up to greet me. I scratched behind their ears. “I’ve missed you, girls,” I said.

Daphne arrived and sat in an Adirondack rocker, holding baby Joe. The sun was just beginning to peek over the Rocky Mountains. Daphne’s eyes were glued to the east, a beautiful smile gracing her face. The royal purple of the peaks was iridescent as the orange rays of the rising sun cascaded over them. Above the mountainous horizon, a few fluffy clouds were tinted the light orange of a Creamsicle, and above them, an orangey pink.

It wouldn’t last long. Once the sun ascended all the way past the horizon, the clouds would become their normal white, and the mountains their normal greenish purple in the distance.

But for a few scant moments, the sunrise painted its own tapestry of beauty. Even more beautiful than the image in the east was the serene look of contemplation on Daphne’s face.

My Daphne was more beautiful than any Rocky Mountain sunrise.

And in her arms she held something else that was more beautiful than the sunrise. My son. Jonah Bradford Steel. My heir, legacy to everything I was building here.

Jonah would have a different life than mine. He wouldn’t grow up knowing how to use a gun, having the temptation. He would learn integrity. The value of a good day’s work. He