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“I’m right here,” he mumbled. “I’ve got you.”

He slid back in, and I raised my hips to meet him. He slipped in deeper, and my body tingled from my toes to my fingertips.

“That feels so good.” I angled my hips so his length hit deeper. “Yes, just like that.”

He lifted his head and his fierce gaze made me shiver. He thrust in again, taking my breath away, and my head hit the padded headboard.

We moved together, him plowing in and me gripping him tightly, relishing his scent, whispers, grunts and growls, and how he repeated my name when his cock filled me.

Sweat trickled off my chin as our bodies slid against one another, and with every thrust, my cock slapped on my skin.

Sinclair reached out and laced his fingers in my outstretched hand. It was a simple everyday gesture that felt more intimate than him being inside me.

His breathing sped up and was punctuated with gasps as he closed his eyes. I took his nipple in my mouth and suckled. He groaned and rested his forehead on mine as I lifted my legs and wrapped them around his hips, allowing him to enter me at a different angle.

I hugged him tight and arched my back. I knew I was getting close as a tightening sensation took hold of me and the accompanying warmth spread over my skin. But I didn’t want this to end because I was in his arms and his lips were on my brow. He was whispering my name.

And yet I longed for the ending.

Gone were the tender glances and the going slow. Sinclair pounded into me, and I held him close, not wanting to let go. Desire forced my eyes shut, just when I wanted to gaze at his face, but that allowed me to just feel him on top of me and his whimpers in my ear.

“River, I can’t hold on.” He rested his head on my chest.

His voice sounded far away but we were connected in every way possible. My climax took hold and I yelled his name and grabbed a hunk of his hair. And at the same time, he tensed and jerked backward as he trembled. We came together, him with a growl and me with his name on my lips.

I felt so light, as if I was floating. Sinclair lay on top of me and we both panted while his knot swelled. We lay in one another’s arms and our breathing mimicked each other’s.

EIGHT

RIVER

Opening one eye because there was so much light in the room, I blinked and brushed my fingers over my brow before opening the other eye.

But after guessing that it was late, I shot straight up and leaped out of bed.

The alarm hadn’t gone off, the girls would be up, it was a school day, and I was thinking all the things except what should have been uppermost in my mind.

Last night in the kitchen, I should have stayed there and let Sinclair leave and from there gone straight to my room. From A to B was very simple. I could do it blindfolded. Instead, we’d kissed and fondled one another on the kitchen table before stumbling up the stairs to his room. That was my boss Sinclair’s bedroom. I’d slept with my boss.

I groaned. Not sleeping with your boss was the number one rule in the unofficial manny handbook. I’d never broken it previously, never been tempted. Pulling the covers up, I bundled them around me. Cocooned in the warmth, I fought off the niggling fear that sleeping with the boss could see me losing my job. And yet, I didn’t see it as a mistake. And if it wasn’t, then what? I didn’t put down roots or make plans beyond the end of a contract, and whoever that person was, I didn’t recognize them.

Closing my eyes, I wished I could reverse time and make a different decision. What we’d done just made my life complicated, and I didn’t do complicated. Being spread-eagled on the kitchen table was my downfall. I slapped a fist on my chest. How could I have been so foolish?

Beads of sweat dotted my brow as I recalled Sinclair’s tenderness when he undressed me with the same hands that caressed and shaped stone. I shivered and wrapped my arms around my chest, mimicking him cuddling me.

But a thundering on the stairs brought me back to the present. The girls were heading down to breakfast, and I had one leg in my pants that were back to front. I didn’t have time to fix my muddleheadedness, so I tore downstairs after the triplets.

My boss was at the stove manically stirring something which was hissing and smoking. The girls didn’t often have a cooked breakfast, and they were complaining it was stinky. I eyed the fire extinguisher in the pantry as I flapped a dishtowel and opened all the doors and windows.

“Is your beast huffing and puffing and going to blow the house down, Daddy?” The gap in Wren’s teeth gave her a tiny lisp, and she and her sisters giggled. I ignored the word beast, thinking she might be talking about a tool Sinclair used.

No one spoke and the only sound was the scraping of the wooden spoon on the bottom of the frying pan. I’d destroyed the one I used for pasta sauce and now a second was destined for the trash.

“Morning,” he said to the stove.

“Morning,” I replied to the kettle.

We’d slept together and now we couldn’t look at one another. But the triplets hadn’t noticed and were squabbling among themselves.