“Can you imagine the fate of some poor child whose mother never wanted her? Even the most loving father in the world couldn’t overcome that damage.”
He rubs his temples, and I recall how tired he must be. I feel bad about doing this, but I needed to hear him say all of it.
“She stayed long enough to make sure my mother was okay and then she went back to Chicago.”
He reaches out and takes my hand, holding it lightly, his thumb caressing my knuckles. A warmth spreads through me, loosening the tension squeezing my heart.
“When my sister told me she’d cover for the next week, my first thought was that I could head down to Chicago – not to see Imogen, but to get on a plane and come back to you.”
Not even I can find fault with that explanation.
I lean forward. His lips meet mine and my world explodes in fire. “Take it off,” I breathe as I pull at his tee, suddenly overwhelmed by the need to feel his skin, all of it.
But he’s thinking clearer than I am. “What if Effie comes in?”
He’s right. Briefly I run through which rooms lock. Only the bathroom and I’m not having sex in the bathtub. I’m also not not having sex.
“Shh,” I whisper. “You have to be quiet.” I drag him down to my bedroom, closing the door softly behind him. Pulling my laundry basket across the floor, I stash it in front of the door. That should slow Effie down enough for me to push Anders to the floor so he can roll under the bed.
I turn back around to tell him to strip but he’s always been quick on the uptake. He’s already shirtless, halfway to pant-less. I’m buzzing with need for him. I want to hear him whisper how much he missed me as he enters my body. I want his mouth to mark me somewhere only we know.
Not even stopping to undo my buttons, I pull my shirt over my head and slide my skirt and knickers off in one smooth move. Anders removes my bra for me, my breasts dropping into his cupped hands. As his thumbs pass over my sensitive nipples, I gasp and push him onto the bed. Lifting my hair up from its roots, I shake it as it falls free. I’m Cora, the wild child, as I clamber on top of him and impale myself on his glorious dick.
After all the denial, all the doubt, this is where I want to be. I want to scream ‘Yee hah!’ but I can’t because my daughter is sleeping down the hall. Instead, I rise up and drive down again, my breasts bouncing. Anders groans quietly, “God, I love you.”
And those words are even better. His hands clamp around my hips, forcing his cock deeper. Oh, yes!
We move together, urgently, our bodies driving us closer. There’s no longer any holding back. Anders can have every part of me.
He’s won.
Happy Families
We fall apart, completely spent. Anders flops back breathing heavily, then he pulls me under his arm. I lie beside him until I too have recovered my breath. I did do most of the work, after all.
“I love you,” I say. I figure I ought to catch up. But there’s no acknowledgement, not even a murmur. He’s fast asleep. I know I should wake him, send him out into the night back to his place but I can’t do it. He’s exhausted. And I want him here, in bed with me.
Instead, I reach over to the bedside table and pick up my phone. I set my alarm to vibrate only and slip the phone under my pillow. I’ll wake him early. He can be gone before Effie gets up. Then I turn over and pull the duvet around us, creating a cocoon.
I’m still tired when my alarm wakes us the next morning, so I can only guess how Anders feels. While I wrap myself in a dressing gown, he tiptoes about locating his clothes. He dragsthe laundry bag back to its home and I open my bedroom door cautiously to check the coast is clear. Together we sneak along the hallway past Effie’s room.
By the front door, we stop. Anders kisses me hard enough to make my toes curl. My dressing gown parts as his mouth travels down my neck and along my collarbone. His hands cup my breasts.
“Morning.” A little voice penetrates my fug of lust. Then, suffused with delight, “Anders! You’re back!”
We freeze, both of us incapable of movement. We are caught, literally red-handed. I’m thinking if we don’t move, don’t draw attention to ourselves, she may not notice.
But Effie stops. Her gaze fixes on us as she takes in the sight, Anders’s palms mid-massage of my tits. With every appearance of nonchalance, he slides his hands down and I pull my gown shut. Her head tilts.
“Is Anders a daddy who lives with us now?” Effie asks. “Because you said…”
“I know what I said.” I cut Effie off before she can replay our previous discussion in front of Anders. I’m not sure I’m up to reasoning with her at this moment. So I say, “Maybe. But not yet.”
Anders raises his eyebrows at me, but I ignore the question in his eyes.
“Would that be a problem?” I ask, watching my daughter closely.
Effie considers my query, her serious face intent. “Would he bring Smaug’ette?”
