Yours, Mine & Ours

using.

It was giving.

And suddenly, as much fun-and teasing-as their playing had been, suddenly she wanted his hands. His skin. Him. Nothing between them.

His eyes darkened, sharpened. The water was still warm, blindingly warm, when he palmed her fanny, snuggled her closer, aimed inside. He slid in slowly, all slick slippery warmth, watching her reaction as he began a careful stroke…until he was all the way in. Slow turned into a canter, than a galloping hurry. She had a fearsome sensation of falling, a buildup of want so explosive, so consuming that she feared it would never end, never be over, never be appeased.

He whispered encouragement, praise, promise. When she peaked, her head fell back on a near scream…and he followed with an exultant groan as deep as hers.

She tried to breathe again, but couldn’t. She stayed wrapped around him like a scarf, her head in the crook of his shoulder, her body limp and wildly sated, not wanting to move…but the water started turning cool.

They both let out a yelp. He lifted his head. “I wondered when we’d run out of hot water. Darn it.”

She was suddenly freezing. He was, too. He flipped off the faucets, helped her to her feet, and grabbed the thick gray towel to wrap around her. He had to step outside to find another. Towels were heaped in a basket on the floor; he took a black one for himself, but he wasn’t concerned with drying himself off.

Instead, he rubbed her down until she was warm, kissing her brow, her neck, her shoulder en route. “I’m not afraid of much, Red. But I was afraid of this.”

“Afraid of…?”

“Afraid that we’d be this good. I was hoping-if we did this-that it’d be kind of a clunker. Good, but not crazy good, so we could just get it out of our heads, go back to the friend thing, knowing the chemistry wasn’t that bad of a problem.”

She said, “For me. I’m afraid it’s a mighty big problem.”

For that, she got another kiss. On the nose. And a shine in his eyes that could have kindled fire. “You’re not kidding. That was beyond anything I remember, Amanda. So now you’ve made our whole chemistry dilemma even worse.”

“Hey. You were the one who dared me!”

His shaggy eyebrows arched. “Huh? You were the one doing all the daring. The way you walked. The way you looked at me. The way you smiled. The whole thing.”

“I never did anything. It was you. Sending me those looks all the time.”

“Hmm. So…is that what suddenly made you…come over here to climb in my shower out of the complete blue tonight?”

She looked at him, through wet hair and a smile that refused to stop coming. “No, Mike,” she said softly. “I came over because…”

Startling both of them, Molly’s voice suddenly crackled from the monitor on the counter. “Mom! Mommy! There’s a lizard in the door! He’s coming in here!”

Amanda sucked in a breath, but Mike was already shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it for a minute. Of course you have to go. But I’d like to finish that conversation.”

“Breakfast. My deck.” But that was all she had time to say. Still wearing his towel, she plucked up her clothes, sprinted through his house and out the back door. Outside, it was darn near freezing on her bare feet and wet hair-but she ran like lightning, pelted into her own house.

“Mommy!”

She’d forgotten to bring the monitor back, but it didn’t matter. She could hear Molly’s voice for herself now.

“I’m coming, honey!” She traded Mike’s gray towel for a butterfly one from the downstairs bathroom, and scooted up the stairs. Out of breath, she paused in Molly’s doorway. “I was taking a shower, honey. I need to put on a nightgown and I’ll be right in.”

“It’s a horrible lizard. Purple and orange. With glasses. And pointy feet. I’m not afraid. But he was going to hurt you, Mommy. So I have to come sleep with you.”

It wasn’t how she hoped to end the evening, snuggled in a narrow twin bed with a four-year-old, Princess and Darling. Yet her daughter and the dog and kitten all slept as soundly as zombies.

She didn’t. Her heart was still racing, her mind spinning, Mike’s name humming in every beat of her pulse. Maybe she’d done the wrong thing. Maybe she’d done the right.

She was frighteningly unsure how this could possibly turn out well for both of them.

But she didn’t regret what happened. Didn’t, wouldn’t, couldn’t.

Amanda woke up in a tantalizingly high mood…until she glanced at the clock. Molly, Princess and Darling were already out and about somewhere, but the princess clock beside her daughter’s bed claimed it was eight. Which meant she could have company from next door for breakfast before she’d had a chance to brush her teeth, much less to make anything to feed the four of them.

She flew out of bed, hurtled through drawers to find the appropriate dress-for-success attire-a frayed sweatshirt, old yoga pants. In the bathroom, she did the wash-face, brush-teeth thing, then swiped on two splashes of blush, braided her hair with a long scarf, loose, not tight, and didn’t bother with shoes because there was no time. She hoped she looked like he usually did. Casual. Honest. Natural. Definitely not overly put together.

Molly, Princess and Darling all crowded her in the kitchen. She whipped up eggs, added a dab of cream cheese and cheddar, fresh chives…dropped a fork, then the spatula. Princess leaped on the counter in a cloud of white fur; both pets wanted to be fed and loved; Molly wanted a change in hairstyle right now. She started the toaster, pulled out the marmalade, poured OJ into a glass pitcher…chased outside to wipe down the glass table on the deck…chased back in to find Molly sampling the marmalade with a spoon.

Panic didn’t set in. Not then. At least not totally. It was just that during all that frenzy of activity, a few teensy needling thoughts squeezed into her mind.

Such as…Mike had given her serious reasons why he’d voted for the celibacy route. Her showing up in his shower wasn’t exactly fair.

Such as…last night, it seemed terribly important that she not sit back, not be the kind of princess who needed a man to take charge. But by light of day, courage didn’t look like courage anymore. It sort of looked brazen. It sort of looked like a pushy, brazen woman had shown up in his shower, specifically when he’d said he didn’t want to be involved.

The more she thought…the more she wondered whether it was too late to hide under the nearest bed with heaps of blankets over her head.

She ran silverware and napkins and place settings out to the deck, ran back inside, cracked a nail on the door, shook it, turned the eggs, popped the first round of toast, heard the knock on the door.

Then panic set in.

“I know we’re late,” Mike said.

“That’s okay, we’re running just a tad late here, too.” She smiled brilliantly, hoping he couldn’t see that there was a gulp in her throat bigger than the state of Nevada.

He and Teddy were cleaned up, spiffed up. Teddy had a tucked-in shirt. Mike had a white polo that set off his tanned skin and a totally naked chin. He not only looked handsome beyond belief; he’d shaved. For her. And here she looked scruffier than his dog. He had to think she’d made no effort, where he so clearly had.

Their eyes met, and she almost dropped the eggs. Would have, if he hadn’t swooped in and taken the bowl. “Let’s help, guys,” he told the kids, which was an outstanding idea.

He not only looked jumpable; the look of him brought on more nerves, because she was afraid she would. Jump him. At the earliest opportunity. Apparently now that the Brazen Gene had been let out of her closet, it was going to be tough locking it back in.

Mike and the kids carted everything outside. She brought up the rear with the OJ pitcher and glasses-which Mike took out of her hands before she could drop them. The morning still had a sting of a chill, but the grass was diamond-studded with dew, the sun soaking-bright.

The kids dove in as if no one had ever fed them…but that didn’t last long. They started making faces at each other. Molly, ever the lady, exposed a mouthful of scrambled eggs. Teddy pulled his eyes apart with his fingers.