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"Don't let it go to your head. If your ego swells any bigger, you'll never fit on an airliner."
I haul her onto my lap, and she straddles my hips. I love the weight and warmth of her body, but more than anything, I love her sweet smile.
I rove my hands up and down her back. "Tell me one thing?"
"Okay."
Settling my hands on her hips, I clear my throat. "Am I a substitute for Cliff? The eejit you were meant to meet at the club."
"I don't understand what you're asking me. Cliff was a jerk who stood me up."
"But you wanted to meet him. He…excited you." She must wonder why I care if another man excites her, though she will probably assume I'm jealous. The truth is much harder to explain. Aisley had cared about excitement above everything else, and when I wouldn't give her the sort of thrills she craved, she made my life hell as punishment.
Erica splays her hands on my chest. "It wasn't Cliff that excited me. It was the idea of a fling, of chucking all my inhibitions and letting my inner wild child come out to play. I needed to feel alive."
"You chose me because I was the first man to approach you."
She slides her hands up my chest to my shoulders. "Actually, a rather enticing specimen bumped into me before you showed up. He smelled like beer and vomit, and he said I was hot but my breasts are too small for his taste. He staggered out of my life forever. I was devastated."
I almost smile at her joke, but I can't shake my memories of Aisley. "I'd no right to ask you about that."
"The topic is borderline off-limits." She glides her hands up behind my ears to bracket my head and sweeps her mouth over mine, back and forth, while our breaths mingle. "From the second you spoke my name that night, I wanted you. Cliff could take a flying leap. Every other man in the club disappeared. I saw only you. I wanted only you."
"The same for me, lass." My throat has gone dry and tight, making my voice hoarse. "You excite me like no other."
She brushes her tongue over my bottom lip. "You're no substitute, Lachlan."
I cradle her nape in one hand and pull her in for a kiss so passionate that it takes my breath away. Erica always does that to me, but even more so when we kiss. Our tongues dance, and I savor the taste of her—maple syrup, pancakes, and bacon—while she wraps her arms around my neck and moans into my mouth. I could devour her forever and still not get enough.
Erica pulls away first, breathing hard, her lips swollen and her cheeks pink. "Lachlan, do me one favor."
"Anything you want."
She rests her forehead on mine. "Never stop surprising me."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
I fold my arms around her, never wanting to let go.
She rubs her cheek against mine, seeming oblivious to the roughness of my morning stubble. "I'm sorry I keep calling you a bastard while we're having sex."
"I am a bastard. Just ask my wife."
Her head springs up, and she studies me intently. "You're divorced, right?"
I shrug one shoulder. Since I can't tell her about Aisley, I also can't explain that my ex-wife is not legally my ex yet because she managed to bollocks up the paperwork, probably on purpose. But I can tell her the truth in another way.
I smile with all the tenderness I shouldn't feel for her. "My wife is out of my life, permanently."
"Oh. Good." She studies me again, but only for a heartbeat. "Did you have any children?"
Should I answer? Does it even matter whether I do? We'll part ways much sooner than my heart wants. But the thought of having bairns with her triggers a sort of excitement I've never felt before.
Erica slides her hands down to my chest. Chewing the inside of her cheek, she stares at her own hands. "Sorry, that was too personal a question, wasn't it?"
I blow out a long sigh. "I've no bairns, though I want them very much."
"So do I."
