“Looks like you’re the only one who hasn’t procreated yet,” Marian quips.
Not for long. I arrest the words before they leave my mouth. I don’t want to think about that particular condition. It’s something we’ll have to revisit.
“Ready?” I ask her.
“You sure it’s okay for you to leave? I don’t want to mess up your workday.”
If only she knew. The moment I clapped my eyes on her, my day was messed up. I have an ulterior motive for wanting to show her where I live. I need to have her somewhere alone. Somewhere I can kiss her and maybe try and work on making that baby.
“It’s fine,” I assure her. I wave at the guys at the counter so they know that I’ve left.
I glance down at Marian’s shoes and nod in approval. She was wise enough to wear walking shoes. I also like that her skirt is short enough to have my fill of admiring her long shapely legs.
We walk to the marina, and I point out Serenity, Ace’s boat, to her.
“Do you sail too?” she asks me.
“Yes, it was a thing we did as a family for years. What about you?”
“Sail? Nope, I’d love too though,” she says and then goes on the defensive. “I don’t mean that you should take me.”
“Marian, I’d love to take you sailing one day. Put that down on our to-do list,” I say.
She giggles. “I love to-do lists.”
“I know. There were several in your kitchen,” I say.
“They keep me sane,” she says and then stops to stare at a group of people boarding a yacht. “It does look fun.”
“It is.” I take her hand and lead her into Park and Rachael’s office.
Rachael and Park are at the reception, and they look up and grin when they see me. They both go around the reception. I kiss Rachael on the cheek, and Park and I hug. I drape my hand around Marian, pulling her into the circle.
“I want you to meet someone,” I tell them. Up until then, I hadn’t decided how I’d introduce Marian. “Park, Rachael, this is my wife, Marian Stevens, now, Carter,” I add for good measure.
Rachael’s jaw drops almost to the floor. “Wife?” she says, shifting her gaze from me to Marian.
Park is a cool customer, and he doesn’t show his surprise. “I’m guessing that happened in Vegas? Congratulations.” He takes my hand and pumps it, and then kisses Marian on the cheek.
Rachael recovers, and she hugs Marian. “Welcome to the family.”
“Thanks,” Marian says.
I take Marian’s hand. “We’re on a tour of Santa Monica.”
“We must organize a lunch or dinner,” Rachael says.
“I’d like that,” Marian says, and she sounds like she genuinely would. If I didn’t know any better, I’d believe her.
“Now to my house,” I tell her when we step back to the pier.
My apartment complex is right at the beach, with stunning views of the ocean and several islands in the distance. We use the beach way, and Marian kicks off her shoes and laughs as the sand tickles her.
“This is the life,” she says and pulls her hair loose.
She looks like an angel with the wind blowing her hair and the wind wrapping her skirt around her legs. “Why would anyone want to live in LA after this?”
I laugh, loving her enthusiasm. “Lexi says the same thing. They have a house here too and spend most weekends down here. Luna loves it.” I fish my keys out from my pocket and open the small gate that separates the public beach from the apartments.
“Wow,” Marian says as we walk by the large Olympic size pool. “And I thought I lived well.”
“You do,” I tell her.
We take the elevator to my penthouse apartment, and as we ride up, the atmosphere grows heavy as we become aware of each other. The elevator comes to a stop, and we step out.
“I always feel like a fish in a bowl when I stand here,” I say in a bid to bring back the easy atmosphere we had earlier.
Marian’s laugh is stilted. “Yeah, but it’s gorgeous.”
We enter the apartment, and she walks around, taking in my minimalist style of furniture and decor.
“I’ll give you a tour.” My voice comes out all funny. It is as if my body is waiting for us to be alone.
My apartment is open plan with four bedrooms. The tour is over pretty quickly, and we end up in my bedroom.
“About the uh, baby,” I say. “I think we should continue with the old-fashioned way of conceiving.” I can’t believe I said that. I want to smack myself in the mouth.
To make matters worse, my cock doesn’t seem to have gotten the message that this is an awkward moment, and a visible tenting is showing in my pants.
Marian folds her hands under her breasts and smiles teasingly. “Is that right? Does that suggestion have something to do with the tent in front of your pants?”
I grin sheepishly. “It might.”
Marian drops her hands and walks slowly toward me. She stops when she’s a hair’s breadth in front of me. “I think that’s a good idea.” She goes on tiptoe and kisses me lightly on the mouth.
Then she steps away and pops open the buttons on her blouse, one at a time. She shrugs off the blouse, and I close the gap between us and pull her into my arms. I groan as her softness crashes into my hardness. I palm her ass and slip my hands under her skirt to caress her thighs.
Her hand snakes between us to cup my cock. She squeezes, and I moan into her mouth. She fumbles with my zipper, and I step away and undress. Our gazes are glued to each other as we hurriedly remove the rest of our clothes.
Marian falls on the bed, and I follow her. I lie down on my back, and she straddles me. She runs her hands over my chest, teasing my nipples and palming my belly.
I reach out to cup her perfectly round breasts. She positions
