The little boy rolled over and murmured sleepily, ‘Yes, Daddy, I’m going to dream about the water slides.’
Lukas chuckled, his throat suddenly raw as he switched off the light and walked out of Nico’s room.
Daddy.
Who would ever have thought that one word would come to mean so much to him?
While walking back through the beachside villa towards the bedroom suite—and Bronte—he sent up a few silent words of thanks to his twin and to Darcy O’Hara.
Not just for the gift of Nico, but for everything his life had become in the last year since their son, his son and Bronte had come into it.
Colourful, chaotic and crazy wonderful.
I hope you can be happy, Alexei, wherever you are, and you can forgive me, Darcy, for once doubting you, knowing that Bronte and I will always love and cherish Nico like our own.
He stepped into the suite and Bronte’s head lifted. Their eyes connected and his heartbeat slowed and strengthened. Her lips stretched in a sweet smile. And he felt it echo in the strong steady beats of his heart.
His younger son’s dark head lay nestled against her arm, his tiny fist resting against her bare breast, while his lips twitched around her nipple as he attempted to continue nursing even though he was obviously fast asleep.
The rush of blood to his groin was swift and predictable and kind of mortifying. It was probably perverse to find the sight of her nipple while she fed his child so damned erotic. And it was going to be uncomfortable tonight. Once they’d gotten the baby to bed, she would need her sleep too. She had to be tired. No matter how much money you threw at the problem, travelling with two small children was exhausting.
‘Did you get Nico to bed okay?’ she asked, yawning, as he lifted the baby out of her arms and onto his shoulder.
‘Of course—we made a deal,’ he said as he patted his younger son’s back. He absorbed the warm weight and inhaled the comforting smell of baby shampoo and milk. The baby delivered a satisfying belch. ‘Why don’t you get into bed,’ he said, ‘while I put him down?’
‘Mmm, thanks.’ She stretched, yawning again. And he forced himself to turn away and walk out of the room and not get fixated on the sight of her plump, reddened nipple pouting at him.
Bronte would fall asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, which would make it that much easier to get his arousal under control when he climbed into bed with her.
He took his time settling his younger son into his crib, the inevitable rush of love and protectiveness helping to distract him from thoughts of his wife’s lush body in the room next door.
The inappropriate erection had mercifully wilted and he was congratulating himself on his control when he walked back into the dark bedroom ten minutes later. The sultry breeze off the Indian Ocean drifted in from the open terrace doors, ruffling the dark silhouette of the palm fronds that framed the villa’s deck.
Moonlight shimmered on the water outside as he stripped off his clothes, but as he took off his boxers the shadows in the room shifted.
Bronte sat up in the bed, the thin sheet settling into her lap, her naked body and all those delicious curves clearly visible as the moonlight gilded them with a silvery glow.
The blood charged straight back into his groin.
‘Why the heck aren’t you asleep?’ he demanded, his voice hoarse with desire, and no small amount of frustration, as the unruly erection became so stiff it hurt.
‘Because it’s not past my bedtime yet,’ she said, the teasing tone tempered by the husky note of arousal. ‘And I’ve been waiting for you. What took you so long?’
‘I was waiting for you to go to sleep,’ he said, feeling a little ridiculous as he climbed into bed and grasped her waist to tug her under him. ‘So I could do the decent thing—and not ravage you tonight.’
She laughed, the throaty hum making every one of his pulse points pound.
You little minx, I am so going to make you pay for this.
He ravaged the sensitive skin of her neck, all his good intentions burnt away in the firestorm of lust.
‘How about I make a deal with you?’ she said, shuddering as he flicked his thumb over the slick nub of her clitoris. ‘I’ll let you do the decent thing after you’ve ravished me.’
‘You’re on,’ he murmured, his voice raw with passion and purpose.
Her delighted laugh turned into a broken sob as he cradled her hips, thrust deep...
And found his way home.