“Why are you trying to talk me out of having sex with you?”
He kissed the tip of my nose. “Because tonight will be the best damn time I’ve had in years. I want that for you too. No regrets.”
“No regrets.”
He held my gaze, searching for a shred of doubt. He wouldn’t find one.
I shoved at his shoulders, forcing him up. Then I stripped off my own top, tossing it to the floor. His eyes flared at the sight of my bare breasts. That appreciation was enough to banish any fears that my body had changed after childbirth and I’d lost my appeal.
Knox surged, his lips fusing to mine. Then we were a mess of frantic movements as we both worked to shove away my pants, leaving nothing between us but heat.
His weight settled into the cradle of my hips. His body was a tower of strength. His arms bracketing my face kept him from crushing me, but he stayed close enough that the dusting of hair on his chest rubbed against my sensitive nipples.
“You are . . . you are a dream,” he breathed. “I gave up on those.”
My breath hitched. “So did I.”
His kiss was soft and gentle as he positioned himself at my entrance. Then he rocked us together, inch by inch.
I savored the stretch, the feel of him so hard inside me. My entire body ignited as he moved, in and out, in deliberate, measured strokes until I was clawing at his shoulders, urging him on, faster and faster.
This man, holy God he had stamina. Knox never tired. He never stopped, just fucked, exactly like a woman should be fucked. Long and with rapt attention.
The sound of our labored breaths echoed in the dark room.
The magnificent tension built higher and higher with each of his thrusts until I felt like glass ready to shatter.
“Come.” Knox dropped his mouth to my pulse and sucked.
Hard. Then he pistoned his hips, hitting that spot inside that made me see stars.
I exploded around him, pulsing and squeezing, as the world disappeared. There was nothing but us and the fall over the edge.
Tremors racked my body and with a groan, he buried his face in my hair, his own limbs shaking, and gave in to his own orgasm.
His heart thundered as he collapsed on top of me.
“Goddamn, Memphis.”
“That was . . .” I wrapped my arms and legs around him, not wanting to lose the weight. But he shifted, rolling to his side and pulling me into his chest.
“That was fucking fire.”
I smiled against his throat, content to sleep exactly like this, our bodies damp with sweat and tangled together. But my son had other ideas.
A tiny cry carried through the house. I rolled off the bed, scurrying for my clothes. Then I jogged to the kitchen, rushing to get a bottle and formula from the diaper bag.
I’d just filled it with water when a shirtless Knox came striding down the hallway, passing the kitchen for the guest bedroom. He emerged moments later with Drake in his arms.
“I can take him,” I said.
“I’ve got him.” He stole the bottle from my hand and walked to the couch, settling down with the baby.
I curled up on the other end, tucking my legs beneath me.
Those two were a sight. A dream.
Drake looked content in Knox’s arms. Knox seemed happy too.
“This was a best day,” I whispered. “Top five.”
“Tell me about them. Your top five best days.”
“You already know the first.”
“Drake’s birthday.”
I nodded. “Early on in labor, when the contractions weren’t coming one on top of another, this nurse brought me in a basket of knitted baby hats. A woman who volunteered in the nursery made them for all the new babies. I picked out this soft gray one, and as I held it, I had this feeling like I was exactly where I needed to be. Have you ever felt like that?”
“Yeah. The day I moved home from San Francisco and walked into the kitchen at The Eloise.”
“It’s a good feeling.”
“That it is.” He glanced down at my son. “What about the other days?”
“My third best day was the day I graduated from college.
My girlfriends and I planned this amazing party. We got all dressed up and went clubbing and drank champagne and danced all night.”
The memory of that night wasn’t as bright as it had been. I hadn’t spoken to any of those friends in months. We’d drifted apart some after college, each of us busy with fledgling careers. Then I’d gotten pregnant and my clubbing nights had disappeared and with them, my friends.
Friends who weren’t really friends. I still liked their photos on Instagram. They sent the occasional text to check in. But our lives had gone in different directions.