A Husband's Regret

by Natasha Anders

  “So long,” he moaned, almost incoherently. “It’s been so long but I want this to last.” She moved her hands up to his face and angled his head until he opened his eyes to look at her.

  “It’s okay,” she said as clearly as she could. “It doesn’t have to be slow this time.” He kissed her with hungry gratitude before boldly surging forward. Bronwyn raised her knees to his hips as she pushed herself up to meet his thrusts. One of his hands slid down over her naked thigh to hook beneath her knee and raise her leg a little higher. The slight change in angle had him hitting her spot with every urgent thrust and it drove her wild. She was beyond thinking about anything but this moment, this man, and his masterful ability to turn her into a ruined, incoherent mess in mere moments.

  Her arms snaked around his neck as she held on for dear life while he hammered into her. His lips were nibbling at her ear, his breathing was hot, labored, and liberally interspersed with groans as he lost himself in her. Bronwyn matched his thrusts with her own, and as she found herself hurtling toward another powerful climax, she arched her back and tangled her fingers in his hair.

  “Bryce . . .” Her voice broke on his name, and her breath caught as she felt herself clamping around his hardness. In that incredible moment, she completely forgot that he couldn’t hear her. “I’m coming . . .” He increased his tempo when he felt her tightening, not needing to hear her in order to recognize the familiar signs of her impending orgasm. Bronwyn went as taut as a bowstring, right on the verge . . .

  “That’s right, my love,” he encouraged breathlessly. “Come for me.” He drew himself nearly all the way out, until nothing but a whisper of him remained inside of her and she sobbed in frustration, before he plunged back in, angling himself to hit her just right. That was all it took to send her screaming down into the abyss. The intense contractions of her climax were enough to send Bryce plummeting down after her with a cry of pleasure. He moved his hand from the crook of her knee and flattened it against her back to pull her as close to him as she could get, while he shuddered inside of her for what seemed like forever. Afterward, they both went completely limp, occasionally jerking as pleasurable aftershocks hit them. They remained that way for a moment, still joined together and too drained to move. Bryce was planting idle little kisses on her damp neck, and Bronwyn was stroking his sweat-soaked hair.

  “You’re breathtaking,” he murmured into her ear before stirring himself long enough to move off her and remove the condom. She groaned in protest when he left her briefly to dispose of it in the downstairs bathroom, kicking off his jeans and underwear in the process. He was back in seconds and stood grinning down at her nude body in immense satisfaction.

  “Sated, sweaty, and ever-so-slightly smug,” he informed her. “That’s how you look.”

  “That’s how I feel,” she confirmed lazily, lifting her arms toward him. “Why are you standing there? Come down here. I’m cold, I need you to keep me warm.” He smiled tenderly and entwined his fingers with hers before tugging gently at her hands.

  “Let’s head up to bed,” he suggested, and she pulled a sulky face.

  “I don’t want to move,” she pouted, and he chuckled before releasing her hands to swoop down and deftly scoop her up. Bronwyn squealed and looped her arms around his neck when she felt herself slipping. He tightened his hold on her and clutched her possessively close to his chest. Bronwyn nestled her face in his neck and nuzzled his warm, delicious-smelling skin contentedly.

  When he reached the bedroom, he gently deposited her on their huge king-size bed, dropping down to join her. He immediately reached for her again, seemingly unwilling to relinquish his hold on her for very long. Bronwyn loved snuggling up against his big, hard body; it always made her feel protected. They did nothing more than stroke and pet, still sated after their shattering bout of lovemaking.

  “Bronwyn, I can’t promise not to make mistakes, and I probably will inadvertently wind up doing stupid things that may hurt you in the future. I’m not perfect. I’m just a man and as flawed—more so—than any other man. But I can promise to love you with the entirety of my heart, protect you with all the strength in my body, cherish you with my mind and soul for the rest of my life and probably beyond that,” he vowed. Bronwyn’s cheek was pressed to his chest, and she couldn’t see his face, but his voice was husky and trembling with the intensity of his emotions and the veracity of his words. “I adore our daughter and with you by my side, I’ll be the best father I can be. If we should be blessed with other children, I’ll adore them too.”

  Bronwyn raised her head from its resting place close to his heart and smiled up at him soggily. She adjusted her position sinuously until she was straddling his hips, with her hands braced against his chest.

  “I love you too,” she reaffirmed. “Flaws and all, Bryce. The only person who ever demanded perfection from you was you. You’re not perfect, but you’re perfect for me. I’ll cherish and protect your heart today, tomorrow, and forever.” He reached up to cup her face with gentle hands, tugging her down for a fierce kiss.

  “Forever?” he asked shakily after releasing her lips. She smiled again before tracing an x across his heart and then dropping her head to kiss the spot she had just marked.

  “Yes. Forever.”

  Bryce’s broad chest heaved in a shuddering sigh of contentment before he dragged her down to snuggle against his chest. Bronwyn burrowed against him and smiled drowsily when she felt him stroking her hair languidly. They were silent for a few long moments and Bronwyn was on the verge of dozing off when she heard his voice. It was quiet but filled with the awe of a man who was just now recognizing a completely unfamiliar emotion.

  “I’m happy.”

  That was all anyone could ever ask for.

  EPILOGUE

  You’re what?” Bryce stared blankly into Bronwyn’s beaming face. They were in his study, and she had seated herself in the chair opposite his desk.

  “Pregnant,” she enunciated and signed the word, but he still blinked stupidly for a few moments. Her chest heaved in a clearly exasperated sigh before she got up, rounded his desk to shout it directly into his ear. “PREGNANT!”

  He jumped as his hearing aid squealed. He now had only 45-decibel hearing loss in his right ear after finally deciding to try that operation the year before. He still couldn’t follow conversations very well unless the speaker was sitting close to him, positioned on his right side, and his hearing aid was on. The operation hadn’t really changed his life much—except that his wife and daughter now sometimes felt the need to shout things directly into his ear when they felt he wasn’t paying close enough attention to them. He had only done it to hear Kayla’s laughter, and when he’d heard it for the first time, he had been gratified to learn that she did have her mother’s laugh after all.

  “You’re pregnant?” he said on a slow exhalation of breath, and Bronwyn nodded down at him with a grin. He felt his own lips stretching into a matching grin. They had suspected that she might be even though they’d only recently decided to try for a second child. Bronwyn had just taken on a partner at her veterinary clinic, precisely for this purpose, and Kayla had just started her second year at school. Their dramatic daughter had recently been making smart-arsed comments about not wanting to be an only child for the rest of her life. Especially since her cousin Rhys had recently acquired a baby sister and even little Lily De Lucci—whom Kayla seemed to consider both rival and friend—was a big sister twice over thanks to the twin girls her mother had given birth to a few years before. Hating to be left out of anything, Kayla had placed an order for a little brother because neither Rhys nor Lily had one.

  “Oh my God.” Bryce leaped to his feet and swung Bronwyn up into a hug. “That’s fantastic news, sweetheart.” He dropped her back onto her feet and gave her a quick, concerned once-over. “What did the doctor say? Is everything okay?” he asked worriedly.

  I’m healthy a
s a horse. Baby’s due in about seven months’ time. Just before Christmas.

  “You always know just what to get us for Christmas,” he teased.

  “I try my best.” She shrugged modestly.

  God, he loved her so much. They had remarried nearly five years ago, less than a month after his proposal. Their marriage, even now, was filled with surprise after surprise. He wanted to create amazing memories with spontaneous trips to Europe when she wasn’t busy with work, hot-air-balloon rides, flowers, jewelry, and toys for Kayla. And even more disastrous romantic meals that he had cooked himself. In the interests of self-preservation, Bronwyn had enrolled him in a Cordon Bleu cooking course. He’d had minimal success in the class. Now, instead of merely burning steaks, he burned things like glazed duck and stuffed pheasant. He pretended not to notice his wife and daughter’s exchanged grimaces when they knew that he would be cooking dinner. He was damned determined to conquer the cooking thing. He couldn’t imagine not succeeding at it . . . okay, so it was taking him a little longer than he’d anticipated—years really—but he knew that he could do it.

  Bryce absolutely doted on his “girls” and loved spoiling them, and Bronwyn had stopped protesting at the extravagance when she had seen how much pleasure he got out of his surprises. He couldn’t imagine his life without them and was grateful every day for the miracle that had been granted to an undeserving man like him.

  “You’re amazing,” he murmured, sitting back down behind his desk and dragging her into his lap. He was well on his way to showing her just how amazing he thought she was when the study door was flung open unceremoniously, and their daughter dashed into the room. Oliver, their excitable and yappy little red miniature pinscher, followed her into the room. Kayla was still wearing her school uniform, and her braid was an unraveling mess that created a halo of escaped hair around her gamine little face.

  “Guess what?” she asked breathlessly, so used to seeing her parents snuggling that she didn’t even pause on her way to his desk.

  “What?” Bronwyn asked with a grin.

  “Ms. Williams gave me two gold stars today!” the little girl boasted, practically bouncing up and down in excitement.

  “She did?” Bronwyn smiled, signing at the same time so that Bryce could follow the conversation.

  “That’s fantastic, munchkin,” Bryce said. He had his head on Bronwyn’s shoulder and one hand protectively tucked against her flat stomach. “What for?”

  I got ten out of ten for my spelling and for my math, she signed a mile a minute, her little hands practically a blur.

  “Wow, I think that calls for a celebration, don’t you?” he asked them indulgently, and Bronwyn nodded, knowing that he meant to celebrate more than Kayla’s gold stars. Naturally they wouldn’t tell Kayla about the baby for a while. She would be an unholy, impatient little terror if she found out and then had to wait months before the baby was born.

  “It’s definitely cause for celebration,” Bronwyn agreed with a smile. “Kayla, go and have a bath and put on your prettiest dress, we’re going out to dinner.”

  “Really?” Her beautiful blue eyes shone with pride and her parents nodded. She squealed in excitement and careened back out of the room with Oliver racing out after her.

  “Thank you,” Bryce whispered quietly, and Bronwyn craned her neck to meet his eyes.

  “For?” she asked.

  “Everything,” he said expansively before elaborating. “For the small, everyday things and the huge, life-altering things.” His eyes went misty, and he blinked in embarrassment. When he was able to see her face clearly again, she was smiling luminously. He watched her hands and her face as they spelled out her inevitable response, the one that never failed to bring a lump to his throat and tears to his eyes.

  There’s the man I married.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Special thanks to my lovely beta readers; your feedback has been invaluable:

  Carol

  Leigh-Ann

  Lorinda

  Morwa

  Shannon

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Natasha Anders was born in Cape Town, South Africa. She spent the last nine years working as an Assistant English Teacher in Niigata, Japan, where she became a legendary karaoke diva. Natasha is currently living in Cape Town with her temperamental and opinionated budgie, Sir Oliver Spencer, who has kindly deigned to share his apartment with her. Please feel free to contact her (or Oliver) on Twitter at @satyne1.