He trailed kisses down her neck as he cupped her breast. “Sexy.”
Mine.
Where had that come from? At one time he’d thought they were soul mates. She wasn’t his anymore, no matter how much he wanted her. But she was his for this dance, for this night.
Thoughts fragmented under the demands of his highly aroused body. An element of possessiveness tempered by tenderness crept into his touch. She would be leaving him soon. He wanted her to remember him when they were both alone in their beds, and know that at their best they were sublime.
Her hands were moving over him, too, touching and stroking and kneading. Their bodies rubbed against each other in another kind of dance they knew as well as the rumba or the tango. Her breath was in his ear as she licked up the side of his neck, pressing her breasts against his chest and grinding her hips against his. His erection pushed against her soft belly. He needed to sink into her, now.
He pulled her onto the couch and pushed her onto her back, nudging her legs apart with his knee.
“We can’t do this in front of Billy,” she whispered.
Darcy glanced over his shoulder. Billy’s eyes were fluttering closed, as if he was trying and failing to stay awake.
Darcy rolled off the couch and gently removed him from his seat. “Time for little boys to be in bed.”
Emma sat up as he carried the baby past, nestled against his shoulder. “I usually nurse him to sleep. Or give him a bottle.”
“He’ll be fine.” Disturbing Billy as little as possible, Darcy carried him to his room and tucked him into the bassinet. The baby started to fuss. “Easy now, mate.” Darcy found a pacifier and inserted it in his mouth. Billy’s eyes closed again as he sucked contentedly.
Darcy hurried back via the bedroom, picking up a condom on the way. He hoped Emma hadn’t changed her mind in the minute or so he’d been gone. He rounded the doorway and stopped dead, his breath stolen. She was lying naked full-length on the couch, her arms lifted behind her head, one knee bent. Her pose was an unmistakable invitation. His erection, which had started to flag, leaped to attention.
She opened her arms to him and he lowered himself on top, propped on his elbows. She parted her legs and he entered her slowly, their eyes locked. He dropped kisses on her cheeks and temples, trailed them down her neck. They often enjoyed sexy banter while lovemaking, but his heart was too full to speak.
Spanish guitar playing in the background, he made love to her, the thrum of the strings echoing the passionate beating of his heart. He took his time, pleasuring her every way he knew how, his tongue and fingers strumming her till her body vibrated to a crescendo.
His world contracted to Emma. His body began and ended with hers. He began to climax as she began to fade and his strong final thrusts quickly brought her to another peak. Afterward he lay atop her, breathing hard, slick with perspiration.
Slowly he came back to the room, to the quiet voice of the radio announcer speaking in Spanish and the soft creak of the leather couch with their small movements. And downstairs, the faint clink and buzz of the pub. Funny how he’d heard nothing a few minutes ago.
He turned his face into Emma’s neck and simply breathed her in, shutting his ears to the outside world. For now it was only him and Em.
* * *
“OH, BILLY. How did I let things get this bad?” With the baby on her hip, Emma picked her way through her apartment, horrified at the mess everywhere. “I must have been completely out of it.”
“Ga, ga!” Billy waved his arm energetically.
“I know. Cleaning this will be a big job.”
The doorbell rang. Emma buzzed Alana up.
Her sister wore old track pants and carried a shopping bag of cleaning supplies. “Holy moly, Em. What happened in here?”
“I wouldn’t blame you if you suddenly remembered a class you have to teach.”
“Nah, we can tackle this, no problem. I’ve got three hours. Should be able to get the worst of it cleaned up.” Alana tickled Billy under the chin. “Who’s a big boy? Do you want to come to Auntie Alana?” She held her arms out.
Billy buried his head in Emma’s neck. “He’s tired. It’s time for his morning nap.”
Alana stroked his head. “How old is he, three months?”
“Fourteen weeks,” Emma said. “He’s over