Lust is nothing new to me. Not when I’ve seen it on so many men’s faces that I quickly grew to hate the way their eyes darkened or the way their pants tented.
It’s different with Warren, though.
He wants me.
But he also loves me.
And that love is clearly woven between the streaks of hungry desire reflected back at me. A heavy ball of unsettling emotion starts in the pit of my stomach and climbs up until it thickens my voice. “Warren, I…I feel…”
Do I love him already? If not for Emmaline, I don’t think I would even know the meaning of the word.
“Go on, wife.” He stares hungrily at my lips as if he can coax the confession from me, but it’s hard to corral my thoughts when every breath, every movement, is so full of…ofhim. “Tell me what you feel.”
“I think I…” The distance between us lessens even more as his mouth dips to taste my whisper.
“That’s it,” he encourages raggedly. “Keep going.”
“I—”
A sharp cry from Emmaline pierces the air, and I slump in torn relief.
“I need to feed her.” My head spins when I leave his lap,but this interruption couldn’t have happened at a better moment. I need time. Time to process the game, the kiss, and the mystery that is my husband.
The burning weight of his gaze never leaves me as I scoop up my crying baby and sit on the sofa. “It’s okay, my darling.” She cries angrily as I undo my buttons with clumsy fingers, and once she latches on, disgruntled protests still interrupt her hungry gulps at times. I suppose she didn’t realize how hungry she would be after napping for three hours.
Warren moves closer, and even with my focus steadfastly trained on Emmaline, there’s no missing the bulge in his pants as he comes to stand beside me.
Don’t look don’t look don’t look.
But it’s impossible to ignore the beast fighting its fabric prison when he’s this close to me. I freeze when he bends down, but he only captures the tiny hand that rests on my breast. I shiver at the accidental brush of his fingers over my bare skin, though his brief pause makes me wonder just how accidental the touch was.
“Hey, Papa’s sweet girl,” he says, kissing her birthmark. “Look at you getting what you want and still scowling about it. Just like your momma.”
My head shoots up. “What do you mean, just like me?” Damn it. Now my daughter and I both have matching scowls for sure.
“Just what I said.” Warren gently taps my temple. “Don’t get too caught up in here now that you’re letting your heart take the lead.” He slowly leans down again, zeroing in on my mouth.
Each second drags out, allowing me to see it coming and maybe even tilt my chin up to meet him. The press of his lips is soft and controlled but no less intense. When it’s over,my lashes sluggishly flutter open to the wild need in his eyes.
Voice as coarse as gravel, he squeezes the thickness between his legs and says, “Fuck. The things you do to me, wife.” Another squeeze, and his pained expression and voice only deepen. “I’m gonna go take care of this while you take care of her. You spend this afternoon thinking on what it is you want to tell me, and we’ll talk about it tonight in bed.”
With one last lingering kiss to my forehead, he leaves, humming a low tune as he treads down the hallway to take care of…that. His tented trousers. Is he going to think of me? Of what would have happened if Emmaline hadn’t woken up just now?
Then his last words hit me, and a charge of nervous anticipation both heats and chills my blood.
Tonight.
In bed.
CHAPTER 14
MARA
“You nice andwarm under there, wife?”
From beneath the blankets of our bed, I watch Warren steadily undo the line of buttons on his shirt. Framed by the orange glow of the hissing logs in the fireplace, he watches me back, gaze probing mine for any hint of my feelings. The intensity of its weight is only slightly softened by his faint, crooked grin when I don’t answer.
I wonder what he sees, because I don’t know what shows. Just because he gave me the rest of the day to think doesn’t mean he left me alone by any means. No, the man was attached to my hip and always found some reason to touch me. He doesn’t even use the guise of measuring me any longer.
