My arms tighten instinctively around her. “I know. You should be.”
She looks up at me, eyes fierce through the shimmer of unshed tears. “I think it’s time we talked to Emily together.”
That pulls me up short. “What?”
“You’re getting lawyers involved, but we still don’t understand what she’s after. You absolutely need something formal in place, but what if this doesn’t have to be a fight?”
A tight knot forms in my chest. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea?—”
“I don’t think I’m asking permission, Aidan.” The way she says it isn’t combative. Just…sure.
Christ. The fire in her eyes, the steel in her voice telling me exactly how it’s going to be. My heart starts hammering against my ribs, and it’s definitely not from worry anymore.
It’s from need. Pure, devastating need.
“Fuck.”
Her eyebrows lift slightly. “What?”
My hands find her hips, pulling her against me. “You’re so sexy right now, it’s driving me insane. I might have to piss you off more often.”
Her cheeks flush pink, and it just makes her even hotter. I love it when she gets shy.
“Honestly,” I tell her, just to make her squirm a bit. “Makes me want to beg for your forgiveness.”
She watches me for a long beat, then huffs a breath that might be a laugh or sigh. Her fingers skim down my chest until they hook in the waistband of my joggers. “I suppose youdohave some serious groveling to do.”
My blood turns molten. “Name it.”
“Take me upstairs.”
I don’t need to be told twice. I scoop her up, and she laughs softly against my neck as I carry her to our room. The sound sends heat down my spine.
She’s still laughing as I nudge the door open with my shoulder, and right now, that sweet sound is a small miracle.
I lay her down on the bed like she’s made of something precious, because she is. All of her. This woman who carries pieces of me I’ve never given anyone else.
Her arms wind around my neck as I settle beside her. The moonlight filtering through the curtains catches the auburn in her hair, and I’m struck again by how beautiful she is—especially like this.
“I love you,” I murmur against her lips.
“Show me,” she whispers back.
My hands find the hem of my shirt that she’s wearing, fingers inching underneath to touch the warm skin of her waist. She arches into my touch with a soft sigh, her pulse quickening beneath my palm.
I take my time undressing her until she’s bare beneath me. My hands map every inch of her body—the subtle swell of her breasts, the gentle curve of her stomach. She’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.
“You’re stunning,” I tell her, pressing kisses along her collarbone.
Her breath catches as I trail my mouth lower, giving attention to the sensitive spots that make her gasp. When I reach the curve of her stomach, I pause, pressing kisses there.
“Our baby,” I whisper against her skin, and she threads her fingers through my hair, holding me close.
“Aidan,” she breathes, and there’s so much in that single word—love, need, forgiveness.
I move back up to claim her mouth again, and she responds with a hunger that matches my own. Her hands fumble with my shirt, pushing it up and over my head before her palms flatten against my chest. The touch burns through me, setting every nerve ending on fire.
“I need you,” she whispers against my lips, her voice thick with want.
