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“There was no lock on the bedroom door, but luckily for me—and you—there is a great lock on the bathroom door. And I used it. Relax.” His mouth slid to her shoulder and she felt her legs go weak.
“If I relax, I drown. I’m too old to have sex in a shower.”
“Where is this ‘I’m too old’ coming from?”
“Maybe from the fact that I am too old? And so are you.”
“Now you’ve bruised my ego.” He kissed her slowly, deliberately, taking his time. “I’m going to have to prove you wrong.”
“We’ve never had sex in a shower.”
“Because the bathroom in Honeysuckle Cottage has a sloping roof and sex in the shower would most likely result in a serious head injury, but this shower—” He lifted her easily and she gasped and wrapped her legs around him.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m sweeping you off your feet. Enjoying my second honeymoon. And I have to say, Mrs. White, so far it’s been as much fun as the first.”
“You can’t do this!” She squirmed self-consciously. “I’m too heavy.”
“Are you saying I’m feeble? You’re denigrating my manhood?”
“No, I’m saying I weigh too much for you to pick up! And I don’t want to have to call for help because you’ve slipped a disc and are lying naked in a shower. Our daughters would never speak to us again, that’s if they still are, and as for Catherine—goodness knows what Catherine thinks of us. This is crazy, Nick. Put me down.”
“Haven’t you heard?” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “The couple who half kill themselves in the shower together, stay together. It’s a bonding activity recommended by therapists the world over.”
“That’s not the version I know. Nick, I’m serious. We can’t—”
He kissed her.
His mouth was gentle on hers, coaxing her lips apart. She felt the erotic slide of his tongue and the knowing stroke of his fingers over her bare skin.
She melted into him, shocked by the intensity of her own response.
Married couples didn’t feel this way, did they? That frantic, heart pumping, heat-in-the-belly type of excitement came with youth and unfamiliarity. It didn’t come after two children and more than thirty years of shared history.
Or maybe it did. He knew her. He knew exactly how to touch her, where to touch her. There was no fumbling, or clumsy exploration. Just an urgency she didn’t recognize, a desperation neither of them had felt in a long time. They’d been apart for months, and before that they’d been sleeping in separate rooms. In some ways this was new.
She kissed him back and slid her hands over his shoulders. She’d always loved his shoulders. She’d loved to sleep with her cheek pressed against his chest, she’d loved watching him sweep the girls off their feet and gallop around the garden with them riding those shoulders. Years had passed, but those shoulders were still broad, and still strong. There was a physical aspect to his job, and he kept himself fit.
She felt his muscles flex as he lowered her, not because he couldn’t hold her, but because he wanted full access to her body. As he closed his mouth over her breast she gasped and almost inhaled the water still raining down on them.
He shifted her slightly so that the water was away from her face, and then slowly worked his way down her body.
Those hands had lost none of their skill. Neither had his mouth. And she knew, deep in her heart, that he wasn’t only showing her that he knew how to give her pleasure, he was showing her that he loved her. Every stroke, every intimate touch, sent pleasure surging through her body and when he finally entered her she cried out his name and held on to him. He set the rhythm, but she followed, matching him, taking him until the sensation built to almost unbearable levels and they both tipped over the edge together.
Afterward neither of them moved. They stayed locked together in the steamy warmth of the shower.
Her breathing and her heart were in a race. She leaned her head against his chest, and felt the answering thump of his heart. She felt his hand curve around the back of her head, cradling her there.
“I can’t believe I almost lost you.” His tone was raw. “I can’t believe I almost let you go. I love you, Maggie. God, I love you so much.”
She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, afraid to open them in case the moment disappeared.
She wanted to speak, but she couldn’t, and still his arms stayed locked around her.
“I know we still have things to talk about.” He eased her away from him and smoothed her wet hair back from her face. “Many things. But I need to know we’re going to find a way. I need to know that you want to find a way. Will you look for a way with me?”
“Yes.” She placed her palm on his jaw, feeling the scrape of stubble. “We’ll find a way. I want that, too.”
