a noise of satisfaction low in her throat, driving her hands into my hair as she moves lower on the pillows and brings me down with her. I urge her mouth open with mine, pushing my tongue into her sweet mouth. My cock stiffens against her hip. I grab a fistful of her nightgown and pull it up over her legs, trailing my fingers over her smooth thighs.
She tightens her grip in my hair, arching her lower body in silent encouragement. I ease away from her only so I can watch as I tug the gown up over her hips.
“Take it off,” Liv whispers, lifting her arms.
I pull the gown off her. Christ in heaven, the sight of my wife’s naked body is a revelation every time—so fucking perfect with her tapered waist and full breasts, her nipples wider and darker from nursing, her creamy thighs like a painting.
I slide my fingers between her legs. She wiggles beneath me, her breath brushing against my jaw. I press one finger into her, the wet warmth of her slit firing me with need.
She pushes her hands under my T-shirt, her touch light and cool against my hot skin. I ease her back against the pillows, locking my mouth to hers again, feeling her body fitting perfectly against mine. Desire pulses through me.
It’s always been so damned good with Liv, but now there’s something even more, the effortlessness that can only come after years of knowing, the miniscule shifts that speak volumes. The fit of my hands into all the right curves of her body, the tightening of her fingers on my shoulders, the way I know what she wants from the subtle change in her breathing.
She stretches her arms above her head, lifting her body toward me in invitation. Urgency brews in her brown eyes, simmering and hot. I press a line of kisses against her smooth shoulder, stroking my hands over her hips, up to her breasts.
I rub her hard nipples, slide my hands into the warm crevices beneath her breasts. She sighs and sinks deeper into the pillows, her eyes drifting closed with pleasure.
I stop. A sudden cold snakes through me.
Liv opens her eyes. I rest my fingers against the side of her left breast. My heart does a slow, strange roll.
“Dean?”
I look up. The sexy heat in her expression fades into confusion.
“What?” She pushes to her elbows, her breathing still fast. “What’s wrong?”
I press my fingers harder against her breast, but now with a clinical, probing touch. Desire evaporates. The cold turns to ice.
“Liv, I think…” I frown, meeting her gaze. “I think there’s a lump in your breast.”
Chapter 5
Olivia
“It’s nothing,” I repeat, slamming refrigerator door and putting the strawberry jam on the counter. “A cyst.”
Dean is standing on the other side of the central island, his arms crossed over his chest and his feet apart in that immovable stance I know so well. The one that indicates he’s not going to back down. Ever.
“If you don’t call Dr. Nolan,” he says, “I will.”
I turn away from him and open a jar of peanut butter. My hand is steady, but I can feel the trembles just below the surface. The start of an earthquake.
“Pen…goo…in.” Nicholas’s voice drifts from the sunroom, where he is eating breakfast and studying the back of the cereal box, which has fun facts about various animals. “Penguin.”
“Good job,” I call, spreading peanut butter on a slice of bread. “Penguins are one of my favorite animals.”
“Liv.” Dean’s voice is tense. “Am I calling the doctor, or are you?”
I throw an irritated look at him over my shoulder. “Really? You’re going to threaten me?”
His jaw tightens. “I am not threatening you. I want you to get this checked out.”
“And if I don’t want to because I don’t need to, then what?” I snap. “You’re going to drag me to Dr. Nolan’s office?”
“If I have to,” he replies curtly.
“Nice. I thought your caveman days were long gone. Guess I was mistaken.”
I know I’m picking a fight—for no other reason than to get us both off the subject of me needing the doctor to look at a lump in my breast.
“Liv.” Dean keeps his level tone, not rising to the bait. “You can stall all you want, but I’m not letting this go. Either you make the appointment, or I will.”
I slap strawberry jam on another slice of bread. My hands are shaking now.
A lump in my breast?
That can’t possibly be true.
But it’s there. I felt it, too. Last