How much he loved her.
His hips moved of their own accord. He slammed in and out of her. She gasped and took everything he gave her without complaint. Her arms tightened around his neck. He brought her leg up to hold it out to the side. This move had him surging unbelievably deeper.
He wasn’t going to last.
Not like this.
Her eyes opened and locked with his.
He quickened his pace.
A groan ripped from him, and before he could hold back, he came.
Hard.
He gripped the bedspread beneath his hand to hold on while he filled her with everything he had. Ropes of his release flew out of him. Every bit of air was snatched from his lungs. He finally paused and pushed forward, leaving his cock buried in Tachina. More flowed from him.
His arm shook, and he fell down onto his elbows. He closed his eyes and focused on breathing. Tachina peppered tiny kisses on his face. He opened his eyes and stared down at her. She wrapped those gorgeous legs around him and locked them together.
Holding him to her.
As if he would ever leave her.
Those three little words were on the tip of his tongue. He ached to say them but couldn’t. Not right now. Not like this.
He rolled them onto their sides. He slipped out of her and felt the proof of their lovemaking on him. At this point, he didn’t care. He’d get her up soon and they’d take a shower. For now, he just wanted her close to him. She automatically came into the circle of his arms.
No words were needed.
She fell asleep within minutes with her head on his chest. He lay awake and stared at the ceiling while resting his free hand on her belly.
This was his future.
His family.
His.
He shifted them slightly and withdrew his other arm from underneath her so he could move. He slid down on the bed to where his face hovered near her belly. He brushed a kiss to the small space just below her navel.
“Hey there,” he whispered.
He looked up and found Tachina still sleeping. A snore escaped her.
His hand trembled as he caressed the safe place where his child was now growing. “It’s me. Your dad. I can’t wait to meet you.”
The morning sun slanted across her desk, catching on stacks of research files, printouts of blueprints, and a half-drunk cup of coffee she’d reheated twice already. It wasn’t even lunchtime, and she’d fielded five calls.
“Are you sure the historic district committee is on board?”
“Why modernize instead of restoring to the original design?”
“Is the developer still aligned with yourdirection?”
She knew exactly where the renewed scrutiny was coming from, but every time another voice questioned her judgement it was like she was a novice intern who’d just got their first job. The knot in her stomach tightened.
She closed her eyes and exhaled. It had been a trying day already. There were vendor issues with materials that may or may not be available. She was trying to do her actual job, but now she had to answer to any and everyone who now questioned her design of the Artisan Avenue.
The phone on her desk rang. She eyed it. The call hadn’t been forwarded from her secretary. It was on her private backline.