Chapter 28
Luna
The bedroom window is open wide, curtains stirring lazily in the breeze. I wake slowly, cocooned in warmth and sunlight, watching dust motes lazily drift through the gold light.
For a long moment, I just lie here, remembering last night.
After Amelie finally went down, we stayed awake beneath the sheets, talking quietly in the dark.
Nothing special. Just work and not forgetting to put the garbage out tomorrow.
“I am going to do the full six months of maternity leave,” I admitted, watching the shadows move across the ceiling in the low light.
All the doors were open so we would hear Amelie next door, just in case the baby monitor failed.
But I knew both Isaac and I would be getting up to check on her at least once during the night.
“Then take it,” Isaac replied.
“Maybe the part-time after that as well,” I continued. “They said I can do remote work for some of it too.”
I felt it as he nodded against the pillow.
“That sounds good.”
“And you?”
“I’ll probably keep working from home as much as I can. I don’t want to miss a single Amelie moment. I am afraid I am going to have to take all the photos and videos. You suck at it.”
“Yeah. I do.” I am prone to getting excited and forgetting I am recording. The result is a lot of strange videos.
The lull after that was comfortable. We have never had to fill those spaces, and that has not changed.
Slowly, I turned towards him and shuffled closer. He turned as well. His hand drifted slowly, hesitantly, up and down my back.
My leg hooked over his. I could feel his hardness pressed against my thigh. I just blinked sleepily.
“That feels painful,” I muttered, pressing closer.
Isaac groaned softly into the pillow.
“Ignore him. Mini-me has a mind of his own. He has been living in suspended animation for a while now.”
I huffed out a laugh.
“Mini-me does not feel very mini.”
A crazy kind of mischief filled me more than anything as I slid my hand between us, tracing him lightly through his shorts.
The shiver that ran through him was immediate, followed by a long, helpless exhale.
“Oh, God,” he muttered.
“Not God. Luna. There,” I teased softly, pressing closer. “Less painful?”
“Now you are just being cruel. You shouldn’t give him false hope,” Isaac groaned, but he didn’t move away.
I laughed quietly against his shoulder, but I didn’t stop. My hand slipped beneath the waistband of his shorts, exploring familiar skin carefully, slowly, reacquainting myself with him after weeks of abstinence.
Isaac inhaled sharply. His whole body seemed to tense beneath my touch.
I teased him gently, my thumb brushing over the sensitive tip, and his head tipped back against the pillow with a strangled sound.
“Luna …”
There was something almost vulnerable about hearing him like that again. He covered my hand suddenly, holding it still against him as he gulped for breath.
“Stop teasing me,” he whispered hoarsely.
“Maybe I want to tease you a little longer. After all, he belongs to me as well.”
His eyes searched mine carefully in the dim light.
“Are you sure?”
The question floated softly between us—a question of whether I wanted to do this as much as he wanted me to. I answered by moving my hand over him again, this time making it featherlight.
I listened to the uneven breaths and his quiet gasps in my ear as I stroked him in that familiar rhythm I knew he loved.
“Don’t stop.” He gulped as his hands guided mine before letting go.
His fingers dug into my skin as Isaac fought for control. He felt like silk over steel, and my mouth watered to taste him.
His forehead pressed against mine halfway through.
Even as I was thinking of putting my mouth on him, he groaned, and I felt him pulse in my hands. Sticky wetness spread between my fingers. He was breathing like he’d run a marathon, chest rising and falling hard beneath my hand. I smiled sleepily against his shoulder.
“How was that for a workout?”
Isaac just kissed me like he needed me more than his next breath. His tongue tangled with mine, and then his hand slipped instinctively beneath the waistband of my shorts. I caught it gently.
“I want to hug,” I whispered.
For a second, uncertainty flickered across his face. We have always had great chemistry in bed, and I would have never said no before.
Then, like he somehow knew what was happening in my head, he nodded.
“Hugs coming up. Hold on.”
He climbed out of bed, stripping off quietly before wiping himself down with his shorts. I watched him pad naked to the en suite, mesmerised by the movement of his butt. I heard the bathroom tap running for a moment before he came back.
He checked the baby monitor automatically, then seemed to be at loss for a second.
“Let me grab my shorts,” he murmured.
“No.”
The word surprised me more than him.
Slowly, I sat up and pulled my nightgown up and over my head. I imagined myself as a Bond lady, slowly taking off her sparkly dress, though the truth was slightly different.
Isaac’s eyes darkened instantly as his eyes homing in on my bare breasts, but he still didn’t move towards me until I held out my hand.
“Come here.”
The relief that crossed his face nearly undid me. I guess we have some work to do before we get back to where we were pre-Amelie. He slid back into bed and pulled me against him immediately, warm, bare skin against bare skin.
His hands moved slowly over my back, my waist, the soft, newer curves of my body, then curved along the side of my breast, up to the nape of my neck.
It was like he was learning me again.
“Don’t you want to …” he started quietly.
“Not now. Maybe later?”
“Okay.”
I didn’t sense any disappointment or frustration.
“We will get there when you are ready,” he said, kissing me again. Then, he tucked me closer against his chest, kissed my forehead, and held me until sleep took us both.
***
Waking up today only brings peace. There is no panic clawing at my chest, no heaviness pinning me down.
The door creaks open, and Isaac walks in carrying my herbal tea in a mug that says Hot Girls wear overalls.
He catches me looking at it.
“If the cup fits …” he drawled, his blue eyes twinkling.
“Gimme my tea,” I grumble, holding my hand out.
He snorts softly and sits beside me, his hip settling warmly against my waist. The mattress dips beneath his weight.
I slowly push myself upright and take the tea from him.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he says, kissing the tip of my nose.
His voice still sounds rough from sleep.
Last night drifts back into my head in fragments. I deliberately drop the sheet, letting him get an eyeful of my chest. He doesn’t resist the invitation, reaching out to cup my breast with his big hand and running a rough finger over the nipple, making it pucker.
“I have some plans for you,” he says, still distracted.
“Hey. Eyes are up here, mate,” I tease, taking a sip of the hot tea.
“Well, we can cancel and stay in bed,” he says, still distracted. “Or we can go shopping.”
“Shopping for what? We are all loaded up with diapers and wipes and whatnot, and Amelie has so many clothes, I will need to put some on Vinted.” I muse. “Besides, you hate shopping.”
“Well, we are going out on a real date, aren’t we?
Are you saying I am not worth it?” he asks, briefly meeting my eyes before looking south again.
“My word. I mean, I loved your boobs before, but now … Anyway, we need to get you a dress. Then, we are doing a lot of girlie things that your mum says are absolutely necessary for a date. And Amelie is coming along to give her opinions,” he says.
“So, chop, chop, you shameless hussy. Stop flashing me. I am not that easy.”