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He flicked his tongue against her pulse point and desire radiated through her whole body.
“I don’t hate you.”
His thumb was running circles around her nipples. She had always loved that. He had brought her to orgasm easily, again and again, by tormenting her breasts. They’d been bigger then. He’d loved them.
The cry in her throat was primal.
What was she doing? It had taken her years to even think she was over this guy, and the second he reappeared she was laying herself bare for him to take as he pleased?
“I have missed you, Najin,” and the words were almost balm enough to temporarily ease the pain brought on by loving him and not having him.
“Not enough,” she said simply, but bleakness was a storm cloud in her soul.
His laugh was without humour. He lifted his mouth now, so close to hers, and her lips parted, waiting, aching to be kissed. “More than you know.”
Finally, he was there, his tongue duelling with hers, his hands dropping to brace her hips, digging into her flesh, as he answered her needs with his own.
It was a parental instinct, honed through experience rather than biology, that alerted her to Lexi’s wakefulness. A tiny noise. The sound of her bed creaking as she turned. And then a whimper, and finally, a soft, plaintive, “Mommy?”
Quiet enough that Syed didn’t hear it. But it was a beacon in the dark, a light of sense in a black ocean of past sensuality. Feelings she had no right to be indulging.
Her hands lifted to his chest and pushed at him. “Stop.” And this time, she meant it. Her lips were darkened by passion; his stubbled chin had left a graze around her mouth, and her body was trembling. But she was Sarah again. Mommy.
His confusion was further evidence that Lexi’s cry hadn’t penetrated his fog of desire.
“Mommy?” It was louder now and more urgent. Sarah swallowed the bitterness of thwarted desire. Every second that passed brought her closer to common sense.
“You need to go,” she said with cold, detached determination. “You aren’t welcome here.”
She spun and left, her pulse still hammering, her mind aching.
Lexi was covered in sweat. “There was a monster,” she sobbed when Sarah walked into the room.
Sarah couldn’t help silently agreeing. The monster might have been the sexiest man she’d ever seen, but he was a monster alright. To her sanity and her senses.
“There’s no monster,” she whispered reassuringly. She stroked Lexi’s hair, her fingers soft against the blonde curls that tumbled down her back. “Are you cold?”
Lexi nodded and Sarah brought her small body close for a hug. Never had she imagined she could feel such love for a person. But Lexi filled her heart. The heart he had destroyed had been blessed by Lexi.
“Let’s get you into clean jarmies then, hmm?”
The mundane task was a welcome distraction. She pulled out a fresh pair and helped Lexi change, then held her sleepy, heavy body until finally the small girl’s breathing was rhythmic and calm.
“Sleep tight, angel-pie,” she whispered, pressing a kiss against her head. It smelled like their coconut bath soap and made her smile.
*
He was looking for bowls.
But they were no longer stored in the same place. Children’s plates had moved in, bright melamine with animals and alphabets. Cups, too, that matched the bowls and plates. A stark reminder of the life she’d been living in his absence.
She had a child.
A four-year-old daughter.
Another man had lain with her, enjoyed her body, taken what she gave so willingly, and implanted a child in her womb.
It was a jealous rage – unmistakable and fervent – that broke upon him.
