Just hold on, Le Roux, think this through. Angus isn’t Clyde and the guy has only been back in your life for a week.She and Clyde had been together for nearly a year, she’d planned on marrying the guy! Angus had been in her life for less than a week. Sure, he was Gus and Finn’s dad, and they were sleeping together, but that didn’t give her the right to probe.
But the urge to push, to know, wouldn’t leave her. Thadie walked through the villa and out onto the deck. Angus sat on a wide lounger, and two glasses, one half full, and a bottle of red wine rested on the wooden table next to him. She poured some wine into her glass and took a fortifying sip before blurting out her question.
‘What aren’t you telling me?’ Thadie asked as she plopped down to sit next to him.
‘Where on earth did that come from?’ Angus asked her, his hand coming up to hold the back of her neck.
She gulped her wine and lifted her shoulders to her ears. ‘I can’t get rid of this feeling that there’s something you’re not telling me.’
Angus sat up straight and kissed her bare shoulder. Even though tiny flames of lust flickered over her skin, and she wanted nothing more than to kiss him, Thadie realised that her statement had hit a nerve.
Angus ran his finger over her shoulder and traced the line of her off-the-shoulder lace crop, along the cords holding the triangles of her bikini up. ‘Why don’t we stop thinking tonight, Thads, and just feel?’
She gripped his hand, stopping any further explorations. ‘Angus, stop trying to deflect me.’
His expression hardened, just a fraction. ‘Stop asking me questions I can’t answer.’
‘Can’t or won’t?’
His thumb skated along the ridge of her cheekbone. He sighed and dropped his hand, looking frustrated. ‘I’m trying to work something out. Will you give me the space to do that?’
Work what out? ‘Will it affect the boys?’ she demanded.
‘No, it’s a work thing.’
Angus pushed his hand through his hair. ‘Thadie, it’s a beautiful night, the stars are heavy in the sky, the sea is loud, and the breeze is warm. And you are gorgeous. Talking is not what I most want to do.’
Thadie looked at him, caught between wanting to pry and, well, wanting him. The look on his face as he lifted his hand to touch her, as if she were made of indescribably rare and precious material, swayed her from the mental to the physical.
Angus’s index finger gently traced the outline of her nipple and she sucked in her breath, looking down to watch his tanned hand against the white lace. So hot. The thought whispered through her as he pushed the lace away to touch her, skin on skin. Angus lifted her so that her nipple was in line with his mouth. He tongued her, pulling her into his mouth, nibbling her with his teeth. She ran her fingers through his thick hair, tracing the shell of his ear, and the strong cords of his neck.
‘I want you so much, Thadie,’ Angus told her, his voice growly with desire.
How could she say no? She wanted him as well, as much, possibly more.
He rested his forehead between her breasts, still holding her, and she felt his hot breath against her skin. She didn’t know what the future held, how much Angus would feature in their lives, or how to navigate her suddenly complicated future, but she knew she wanted to make love to this big, hot, secretive man. To have him in her bed...
For as long as he would stay.
‘Take me to my bedroom, and love all the thoughts out of me, Angus,’ Thadie whispered, her fingers dancing across his lips, his jaw.
Angus simply nodded, stood up and, after scooping her up—a feat, given her height and curves, she’d never thought was possible—carried her inside. Seemingly not needing to look where he was going, he kissed her while he navigated a path through the house, avoiding furniture, sculptures and a Lego robot Gus had left in the middle of the passage. In her bedroom, Thadie held onto him as he lowered her to her enormous bed and released a contented murmur when he settled into the V-shape between her legs.
This was where he belonged...
Pushing that thought away—too much, too soon!—she helped Angus rid her of her lacy top and bikini bra, watching as he shed his shirt with a one-handed tug. His naked chest touched hers and she tongued his flat, masculine nipple. Yum...
Angus released an inaudible curse and pulled back to tug her skirt over her hips. His eyes moved down, taking in her breast before moving over her rounded stomach to her bikini bottoms.
‘I didn’t take the time to look at you last time,’ he told her.
She wished he wouldn’t. ‘I breastfed the babies, so my boobs aren’t as great as they once were, and I have stretch marks,’ she explained, feeling self-conscious. Silly, but she wasn’t always as confident as the world thought her to be.
‘I don’t care,’ he bluntly told her, and she heard the sincerity in his tone. He stroked his fingers across her caesarean scar, and she visualised it in her mind, a thin slash above her pubic mound.
‘I’m not ashamed of that scar. If I didn’t have it, I wouldn’t have my—the boys,’ she told him.
Tears burned her eyes when he dropped his head and placed a series of gentle kisses from one side of the scar to the other. It was both sweet and erotic, lovely and heart-poundingly sexy.