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Alana grins even more wickedly than before and shakes her head. “Go tell him to put it in the fridge.”
I raise an eyebrow at her.
Alana stands up from the table.
The long, vibrant blue evening dress she’s wearing for our special occasion flows around her, and as she moves one leg forward – I see that it has a slit all the way up to the top of her thigh.
“Gracie’s not due back with Hamish for another few hours.”
My eyes go wide, and then I dash for the kitchen faster than I’ve ever moved before, all to the soundtrack of Alana’s laughter. When I turn from the door again to see her, she’s running out of the room.
She has her skirt around her thighs in a bunch. Her heels kicked off and left under the chair.
“Race you!” she shouts, and I laugh like a teenager again and race up the stairs after her.
She wins, of course – reaching the bedroom and managing to strip out of her dress entirely, throwing it to the floor by the time I make it to the doorway.
She stands there in nothing but a pair of lace see-through panties and suspenders holding up fine sheer stockings, her bare breasts catching the pale light streaming through the window from the night’s full moon.
“What did you win?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” Alana says, giving me a flirty smile and beckoning me closer. “Shall we find out?”
“I know what you won,” I say, stalking closer. I drop to my knees in front of her, sliding my hands over the nylons and onto her hips.
Alana giggles, opens her legs wider, and then throws her head back with a gasp as I pull her panties aside and lean forward to taste her.
A few hours later, Gracie will be back, and we will be parents again, business owners, and everything else that comes along with it. But for a few hours, we have the kind of time we can snatch here and there. A few hours to be just ourselves, husband and wife.
I’m not going to miss the chance to make the absolute most of it.
“What’s our three-hour record?” I ask, replacing my tongue with my fingers so Alana doesn’t experience any loss of sensation.
“Five times, I think,” she says, gasping between the words. “Three for me…and two for you.”
“Then six is the goal,” I say with a grin, leaning forward to worship her with my tongue once more.
EPILOGUE
TWO MORE YEARS LATER
Alana
I hear the front door open and close, my ears perking up, my attention going to the hallway, and the sound of boots coming from it. I relax immediately.
There are strangers out on the estate today, but I know the sound of my husband’s footsteps anywhere.
After only a moment, Finlay appears in the doorway, looking up to check on his family and ensure we are all present and fine.
I turn to him and beam.
He’s covered in mud all the way up to the top of his hunting jacket. He must have slipped at some point.
“I know, I know,” he says, surrendering his hands. “I’m going to shower and throw all of this in the laundry bin.”
“Not in the laundry,” I protest. “Dump it in the utility room, and I’ll deal with it later, or there’ll be mud on all of our other clothes too.”
“Alright,” Finlay nods, sounding sheepish. “How is everyone?”
