For the Sake of Their Son (The Alpha Brotherhood #5)(35)
Author: Catherine Mann

His room was empty.

Frowning, he scanned the space and… “Aha…”

More books led to the bathroom, and now that he listened, he could hear the shower running. He set the stack on the chest of drawers and gathered up the last few “crumbs” on his trail, a copy of Rapunzel and a Victorian version of Rumpelstiltskin. Pushing his way slowly into the bathroom, he smiled at the shadowy outline behind the foggy glass wall. The multiple showerheads shot spray over Lucy Ann as she hummed. She didn’t seem to notice he’d arrived.

He peeled off his clothes without making a sound and padded barefoot into the slate-tiled space. He opened the door and stepped into the steam. Lucy Ann stopped singing, but she didn’t turn around. The only acknowledgment she gave to his arrival was a hand reaching for him. He linked fingers with her and stepped under the warm jets. The heat melted away the stress from his muscles, allowing a new tension to take hold. He saw the condom packet in the soap dish and realized just how thoroughly she’d thought this through.

He pressed against her back, wrapping his arms around her. Already, his erection throbbed hard and ready, pressed between them.

He sipped water from just behind her ear. “I’m trying to think of what fairy tale you’re fantasizing about, and for water, I can only come up with the Frog Prince.”

Angling her head to give him better access to her neck, she combed her fingers over his damp hair. “We’re writing our own fantasy tonight.”

Growling his approval, he slicked his hands over her, taking in the feel of her br**sts peaking against his palms. His blood fired hotter through his veins than the water sluicing over them. He slipped a hand between her thighs, stroking satin, finding that sweet bundle of nerves. Banding his arm tighter around her waist, he continued to circle and tease, feeling her arousal lubricate his touch. She sagged back against him, her legs parting to give him easier access.

With her bottom nestled against him, he held on to control by a thread. Each roll of her hips as she milked the most from her pleasure threatened to send him over the edge. But he held back his own release, giving her hers. He tucked two fingers inside her, his thumb still working along that pebbled tightness.

Her sighs and purrs filled the cubicle, the jasmine scent of her riding the steam. Every sound of her impending arousal shot a bolt of pleasure through him, his blood pounding thicker through his veins. Until, yes, she cried out, coming apart in his arms. Her fingernails dug deep into his thighs, cutting half-moons into his flesh as she arched into her orgasm.

He savored every shiver of bliss rippling her body until he couldn’t wait any longer. He took the condom from the soap tray and sheathed himself. He pressed her against the shower stall wall, her palms flattened to the stone. Standing behind her, he nudged her legs apart and angled until… He slid home, deep inside her, clamped by damp silken walls as hot and moist as the shower.

Sensation engulfed him, threatened to shake the ground under him as he pushed inside her again and again. Things moved so damn fast… He was so close… Then he heard the sound of her unraveling in his arms. The echoes of her release sent him over the edge. Ecstasy rocked his balance. He flattened a hand against the warm wall to keep from falling over as his completion pulsed until his heartbeat pounded in his ears. Shifting, he pulled out of her, keeping one arm around her.

Slowly, his world expanded beyond just the two of them, and he became aware of the water sheeting over them. The patter of droplets hitting the door and floor.

Tucking her close again, he thought about his near miss at the track today and all the relationship advice from his friends. He’d waited too long these past eleven months to make sure she stayed with him. Permanently. He wouldn’t let another minute pass without moving forward with their lives.

He nuzzled her ear. “What kind of house do you want?”

“House?” she asked, her knees buckling.

He steadied her. “I want to build a real house for us, Lucy Ann. Not just condos or rented places here and there.”

“Umm…” She licked her lips. The beads on her temple mingled perspiration with water. “What city would you choose?”

He had penthouse suites around the world, but nowhere he stayed long enough to call home. And none of them had the room for a boy to run and play.

“I need a home. We need a home for our son.”

“You keep assuming we’ll stay together.”

Already his proposal was going astray. Could be because most of the blood in his brain was surging south. “Where do you want to live? I’ll build two houses next door if that’s the way you want it.” Living near each other would give him more time to win her over, because he was fast realizing he couldn’t give her up. “I have connections with a friend who restores historic homes.”

She turned in his arms, pressing her fingers to his lips. “Can we just keep making love instead?”

Banding her wrist in his hand, he kissed it, determined not to let this chance slip away, not to let her slip away again. “Let’s get married.”

She leaned into him, whispering against his mouth as she stroked down between them, molding her palm to the shape of him. “You may have missed the memo…” She caressed up and down, again and again. “But you don’t have to propose to get me to sleep with you.”

He angled away, staring straight in her eyes, her eyelashes spiky wet. “I’m not joking, so I would appreciate it if you took my proposal seriously.”

“Really? Now?” She stepped back, the water showering between them. “You mean this. For Eli, of course.”

“Of course Eli factors into the equation.” He studied her carefully blank expression. “But it’s also because you and I fit as a couple on so many levels. We’ve been friends forever, and our chemistry… Well, that speaks for itself. We just have to figure out how not to fight afterward and we’ll have forever locked and loaded.”

The more he talked, the more it felt right.

“Forever?” Her knees folded, and she sat on the stone seat in the corner, her hair dripping water. “Do you think that’s even possible for people like you and me?”

“Why shouldn’t it be?” He knelt in front of her.

“Because of our pasts.” She stroked over his wet hair, cupping his neck, her eyes so bittersweet they tore him to bits. “Our parents. Our own histories. I refuse to spend the rest of my life wondering when the next Gianna is going to walk through the door.”