“And maybe more?” Alace ghosted her fingers up the back of his neck, relishing the crisp thickness of his hair. She gripped gently and tugged, pulling his mouth back down to hers. “More kisses?”
“Definitely,” he murmured against her lips as he settled onto the couch. Eric adjusted Alace across his lap, leaning over her as she rested against the arm of the couch. “And then even more.”
“Such a rule-breaker, Mr. Ward.” She slipped her hands underneath his shirt, tugging until he lifted his arms and allowed her to slide it off him. “We’re a full three days early.”
“Is this you—” His mouth moved down her neck, teeth gripping and releasing, his tongue trailing a hot path along the side of her throat. “Wanting to wait those extra days?”
“Not at all.” Alace arched into him, legs falling wide as he moved to cover her, elbows planted deep in the cushions on either side of her shoulders. She slipped down to lay flat on the couch as he ground their hips together firmly, letting her feel his hardness. Pleasure paired with desire to run hot through her blood, and as always, when she was in his arms, the sense of coming home was overwhelming. “Eric.”
“Mmmm?”
“My pants are still on.”
“Not for long.”
His touch grazed over her body as they kissed, fingertips drawing circles across her belly, knuckles rubbing and chafing her nipples as clothing articles were discarded. Eric settled alongside her, his body pinning hers against the back of the couch as he continued his sensuous assault. Alace’s leg bent, heel dragging against the fabric, opening to his touch. She had to stifle a moan when his thumb made a side-to-side sweep across her clit, fingers teasing along her opening.
“Baby.” His soft voice penetrated the sexual haze occupying her mind far less potently than his fingers did her body. “Baby.” He called again, and she slit one eye open, staring up at him.
“Mmmm?” She borrowed from his wordless reply earlier.
“We want more kids, right?” Surfacing from the fog, she stared and nodded slowly. “You’re not worried about it being too soon, if it happens?”
“No. Not at all.” She rolled her hips, the movement pushing his fingers inside her farther. “I’d be more upset if you stopped right now.” She slipped her hand around his neck, pulling him over her until his cock replaced his fingers. “Love me, please.”
He dropped his head, mouth meeting hers as he thrust inside slowly, sliding deep on a single push until he ground his hips against hers.
“I already do.”
Hours later, Alace woke from the uneasy sleep her body had claimed after Lila’s hungry cries had pulled them both back upstairs for her bedtime nursing. She stared into the darkness, relishing the heat and firmness under her cheek and all along her side. Eric was her pillow, his arm curved around her even in his sleep, their legs tangled together underneath the covers.
Owen was weird.
The thought kept circling through her brain, reasons and justification for his oddness bouncing back and forth. He hadn’t been peculiar or different earlier when she was over there. Not even with Doc in the room, a stressor she’d expected them both to react to, but they hadn’t.
Something had happened between when she’d left for the interview and when she’d called to tell him the outcome.
Alace glanced over Eric’s chest to where his phone was docked, the time writ in large digits on the face.
Too early to call Owen.
Not too early to see what he was looking at.
She eased out of Eric’s hold, his arm tightening around her briefly as he fought to keep her close, even in his sleep. His unconscious desire for her was one of her favorite things, reminding her every day that his love wasn’t surface and fleeting. Somehow, through their time together, Eric had become her bedrock, the solid land she retreated to at every chance, and the stable foundation her happiness aligned with.
With her desk still in their bedroom, she didn’t have far to go, retrieving the laptop from the secure drawer and reassembling it, then able to check on Lila as the computer booted. Headphones in place, she slipped into her seat, hooking her toes around the legs of the caster base.
Months ago, she and Owen had agreed on their version of a dead man’s switch. A way for the other to see electronic activity if there were a need, something to protect both of them if there were a disruption in communication for any reason. This wasn’t a disruption, not exactly. But still, a need.
The digital trail was anonymized, which meant only the person authorized to retrace the online steps of a given account would know whose activity they were reading. She’d spared no expense in the original setup, and both she and Owen had enhanced it as ideas came to them. All this meant was, within moments, she had his entire online history for the previous day in front of her, even the secured elements typically obscured with randomized IP addresses and masked VPN connections.
Their exposure of activity didn’t include access to the individual machines or secure email accounts. But seeing he’d received two messages via a work board, it didn’t take her long to slip into the account of the sender, finding his deleted messages to Owen and quickly restoring and moving them to an account unique to her.
They’d talked about the research Owen had done into the Kuellen gig, so the shared document she’d saved down wasn’t a surprise. It held information validating everything she’d found, providing the same percentage of positive identifications for the kids in the videos.
An icon on her toolbar pulsed red, and Alace switched her view to the local machine, logging into the online dropbox it monitored. August had dropped a note into his folder with information about his arrival in Colorado.
Alace quickly opened the shared document she used with her hunter and found he was still online and waiting. She typed out a second modification in instructions and details, holding back the information about the interview. He didn’t need to know the particulars about why the gig was delayed by a couple more days. As long as he trusted her to keep him safe, she’d focus the communications on the active part of the gig.
Her cursor hovered over the disconnect, watching as he typed in an acknowledgment and his on-the-fly change of plans. Normally she’d leave the rudimentary chat without a goodbye, but something Owen had said to her echoed through her head. “You think people don’t care because you don’t let them close. If you give others even half of what you’ve given me, I think they’d surprise you.”
Did you enjoy your time with your daughter?
Kids were probably a safe topic, even if families as a whole might not be. She waited, watching as the cursor indicating August’s active presence blinked at the end of his last update to the document. Then it moved down slowly, line by line until he’d created a new paragraph underneath her question.
I did. She loves the ocean. It was nice to be able to give her something she enjoyed.
Alace huffed a frustrated sigh. It was the slightest of openings, not anything with real meat on it for her to leverage into a longer conversation. Now I’m the one wanting to have a conversation? Owen would probably say she was adrift in opposite world.
Water seems to be a kid magnet.
That was truth, at least. Lila certainly loved her bath time, nestled safely in the tiny tub of warm, sudsy water. August didn’t know about Lila, though, and now she knew a little more about his daughter, which meant it felt like not telling him was edging into territory around untruths.