“Yes,” I pant. He shifts to the side, kicks off his shoes and jeans, moves over me once more, and then slides my robe off my shoulder. Feeling the heat from his body as it covers mine, I moan and wind my legs around him.
“Are you ready?” He leans back, wrapping his hand around his cock and sliding it up and down over my clit. My hands roam up his sides as I nod. Then, he’s in me, sliding deep in one quick thrust that takes my breath away and causes my back to leave the bed as a moan slips out from between my lips. “How could I forget?” he asks, although I don’t think he’s talking to me. I don’t care, though, because when he’s in me, I feel like I’m whole for the first time.
Rolling to my side, I feel nothing but the bed under me, and my eyes pop open. Sitting up, I look around the room and my heart begins to pound as I wonder if last night was just a dream. Something I made up in my head. Then the toilet flushes and Zach steps through the doorway of my bathroom, wearing absolutely nothing but a soft smile.
“What time does Hunter get up?” he asks, walking toward me. I feel my mouth go dry as I take him in. He’s beautiful in clothes, but in nothing at all, he is beyond perfection, with tight muscles, a scattering of hair on his chest, and a line of hair from his navel right down to his perfect cock, which is long, thick, and pointing right at me. “Baby,” he calls, and I tilt my head back to look him in the eye then lean over the side of the bed to check the alarm clock on the nightstand.
“About an hour or so, maybe a little longer. He was tired last night when we got home,” I reply, pulling the sheet up to cover my breasts, suddenly feeling shy about being naked around him, which is absurd, since he saw everything—absolutely everything—last night.
“Good, got time to make out before I need to go get ready for work.” He smirks, ripping the sheet out of my grasp and crawling up the bed, pushing my legs apart and settling his hips between mine.
“I think we need to talk,” I say, as his mouth moves across my jaw and down my neck.
“Talk away,” he murmurs, licking up the column of my throat making my body come alive once more.
“I don’t think this is smart,” I moan, lifting my legs to wrap around his waist while running my hands up the smooth skin of his back.
“You’re wrong.” His reply is immediate and firm as his hand skates down the back of my thigh to my ass, lifting my hips into his.
“I… oh, god,” I breathe, when his hand cups my breast and his thumb slides over my nipple.
“This is right, baby. You can try to convince yourself it isn’t, but you and I both know you’re lying to yourself.” His words vibrate against my neck, and then he leans back to look at me. “I saw the look in your eyes at dinner. I know what it meant, because I was feeling that same feeling in my gut, sitting there with you. With our kids. We were meant to be here, right now in this moment. We were meant to find each other again.” His words have the oxygen in my lungs burning, as I hold my breath so I can fight back the tears I know are coming.
“I don’t want to get hurt,” I tell him honestly, and his hands move to hold my face gently.
“I can’t promise things will be perfect. What I can promise you is that I will never hurt you on purpose, and I will work at making you happy, work at making you feel safe.”
“Don’t you think we have too much history between us?” I ask before he can say more, and his face softens then dips toward mine, and he kisses me gently before leaning back.
“The only thing I think—the only thing I know—is I’ve carried around an empty place in my soul for the last fifteen years, and the moment I saw you standing outside in the rain, that empty place filled up.” His words cause the tears in my eyes to spill over, and he quickly swipes them away with the pads of his thumbs.
“It’s not just us,” I try again, not knowing why I’m even bothering. I want this, I want him more than my next breath.
“You’re right. It’s not just us. I’m not saying we’ll get married tomorrow or move in together next week. All I’m saying is I want this, and will work at making you want it just as badly as I do.”
I want to tell him that I already do want it, but I can’t put myself out there like that. Not yet anyway.
“Slow,” I say, and his face changes again.
And then he’s sliding inside of me, filling me up once more, whispering, “Slow,” against my neck.
“Not back together with Zach, hmm?” Paul questions softly from my side, and I turn my head to glare at him, only to see the smirk on his face turn into a huge smug grin.
“No, we’re not together.” He raises a brow and I blow out a breath, rolling my eyes. “Fine. Yes, we’re seeing each other, but right now, we are taking it slow,” I say, knowing my version of slow and Zach’s are completely different.
We haven’t told the kids about us, but I have no doubt they know something is going on, judging from how Zach acts toward me, even when they’re around. Not inappropriately, but still, his face will change when our eyes meet, his fingers will graze mine, or his hand will move to my lower back if we’re standing next to each other. I know they see it. They have to.
Hunter hasn’t acted like he notices, which I can’t decide if that’s good or bad. He’s never seen me with anyone but his father, and I don’t want him upset. Aubrey just looks happy whenever she happens to glance between us, and Steven—well, Steven always looks conflicted. I know it’s not that he doesn’t like me, though. I know it’s because he loves his mom, and is loyal to her in a way that actually makes me proud of him.