His Sweetest Sin

Chris laughs as he pulls me tighter against him. “You tell me, sugar. I thought your eyes went big when I talked about baby girls. I’m putting my order in for all girls right now.”

He’s crazy. I burrow into his chest so he can’t see what his words do to me. “You should be evaluated by a licensed professional. I’m still not having anything but boys. It’s also not even a possibility, I have the implant in my arm. It’s good for another, I don’t know... a year, I think.”

I’m rolled onto my back again. How crazy is it I see his disappointment and not only understand, I feel it too? Being disappointed about being protected in a relationship with a clock running in the corners was insane. “You think?”

“It lasts for years, not months. They said they would call me thirty days before it runs out so I could decide what I wanted to do when it was time to remove it. In case I didn’t want to do another, so there would never be a time where I wasn’t protected.” I run my hand over his cheek, loving the feel of his skin, the freedom to touch him as I’ve longed to do for what feels like forever. “You know us being disappointed you couldn’t have gotten me pregnant is just a little fucked up, right?”

A dimple flashes. “So you’re disappointed too?”

I smile as I pull him down to me. “So disappointed I’m going to need you to cheer me up by fucking me again.”

13

Amelia

I’m late for work for the first time in years. I also don’t care. Mary smiles as she sees me. “I want a raise.”

I laugh then it reminds me, shit, I haven’t talked to Mary about my wanting to quit. Once I’m settled, I’m about to call her into my office when she comes in with my coffee. Please don’t let her hate me. “Have a seat, I need to talk to you.”

Mary smiles as she sits, her eyebrows up. “Is this where you finally tell me about quitting?”

“Does everyone know I want to quit?”

“My dear, you aren’t quite as good at poker as you think you are. It’s fine. I was looking to retire next year, it doesn’t make a huge difference to my plans.”

“I’ll still pay into your SEP for this year. I’m also going to cover your insurance for the next three years until you qualify for Medicaid.”

“You’re a classy lady, Amelia Bishop. So you got fired by a client. A first for you, nice email you wrote to Karen and Ethan today. Do you think it will cover your ass for enjoying the gorgeous Mr. Baldwin?”

I blush. “I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t even care anymore. I’m not saying it won’t be embarrassing to get called out by the ABA; I will say it was totally worth it if it does happen.”

“Splendid. I’m getting invited to the wedding though. I’ll never forgive you if you don’t invite me.”

Shaking my head, I bite my lip. “Mary...I don’t even know if this going to last longer than the sell-by date of a carton of milk.”

For a long minute, Mary studies me. “A horrible liar and the poor ability to read people. Do me a favor, never play poker.”

I’m still confused long after she’s left. How does she know I lost hundreds of dollars in college while trying to play poker? I shrug as I open my emails to catch up.

My door opens without warning to Chris carrying a picnic basket, just as my stomach starts grumbling. I’m so lucky. He’s in jeans again today. They mold to his body like a second skin, while his sweater is a dark red cashmere that clings to him the way my eyes do. He smiles, his dimples show, and fuck if I can stop from smiling back at him. I blink and he’s leaning over my desk, his hands down at the edge. Close, he’s so close.

“Amelia.” One word, yet he makes it throb with chapters of want, need, desire. “I don’t know how it’s possible. Every time I leave you, I tell myself there is no way you’re as gorgeous as I think you are. Then I see you again only to be proven wrong.”

Years of cruel words and vicious taunts about my appearance from my mother, from men, surge forward to dismiss his words for the false flattery they have to be. Only they die in the lava heat of his glowing sky-blue eyes. Yet a tiny piece of me clings to the past. It was what I believed for so long, it couldn’t be a lie. The word escapes as a whisper. “Really?”

His breath catches, he closes his eyes, and I feel cut off from him and lost instantly until he opens them again. Sky blue is gone; I’m in the deep end of the ocean. I’m pulled under and lost in a wave of sadness so strong I want to cry for him. I’m so intent on him, I don’t see him raise his hand until he cups my face gently. His right hand holds me still as his thumb grazes slowly, lightly over my cheek. “Yes, really. Your beauty stuns me, makes me breathless, makes me hungry, makes me voracious for you.”

Wow. “Thank you,” I mumble. Chris just smiles at me as he takes my hand, pulling me up from my chair. The world stands still until his lips touch mine. Soft, his lips tease mine, his mouth covers mine, and instantly I’m lost in him, the taste of him, the scent of him. It’s not enough. When he lifts his head, I hate how cut off I feel from him. I run my fingers over his lips.

He kisses my temple then takes my hand, trailing me after him toward the small seating area.

“Come on, sugar, I’m starving.” He lays out the small blanket on the middle of the sofa and is unpacking it carefully. It’s fried chicken from Goldfinches with roasted potatoes and asparagus. This is one of my favorite lunches. “I like your couch. It’s more comfortable than it looks.”

“Ethan says it looks like something out of a fifties bordello,” I admit as I settle onto my end of the couch. Sitting properly doesn’t really work, so screw it. Thank goodness I’m wearing slacks is all I think as I slip off my shoes then sit Indian-style.

Chris’s eyebrows go up as he does the same. “It actually does remind me of a fifties bordello, that’s why I like it.” He wiggles his brows, and I roll my eyes. “How comfortable is it?”

“Behave. I’ve slept here a few times, I got caught in the snowstorm last year. I actually have the same set in pink at home because I liked it so much.”