by Noelle Adams
Abigail hugged him close, holding the back of his head with both hands. The penetration was tight but deeply pleasurable, and Thomas’s instinctive motion sent jolts of sensation rippling out.
After a minute, she started to squirm, and she lowered her hands to clutch his ass, her fingers digging into the tight muscles there. In response to her silent urging, Thomas reared up on straightened arms and began to thrust, staring down at her with deep, intense eyes.
Abigail moved with him, their rhythm fast, hot, and needy. Her legs were bent up high around his hips, and she used the leverage from her feet on the mattress to ride him from below.
They were both panting loudly, and the bed shook with their urgent motion. And it wasn’t long before the pressure of an orgasm coalesced inside her.
She gasped, tossing her head on the bed as she writhed beneath him. “Oh—!”
Her exclamation broke off as she came hard, clamping down around Thomas’s thrusting.
His face twisted. “Yes, baby.” The words were choked as he jerked with a few clumsy pumps. Then the tension broke inside him as well.
She moaned, low and long, as her body was washed in pleasure, and she felt Thomas come in spurts inside her. He released a thick exhale as he collapsed on top of her, his weight hot and substantial.
They clung to each other, gasping and letting their bodies relax. After a minute, she felt a gush of moisture between her legs, but she was barely conscious of it. Thomas had softened some, and his weight wasn’t yet uncomfortable. It all seemed perfectly natural. Inevitable. Finding each other upon waking.
She felt safe. And deeply satisfied.
She might have dozed off for a few minutes—the whole experience blurred into a warm, sated haze. But the next thing she was distinctly conscious of was Thomas hardening inside her again. She felt him twitch and grow, filling and stretching her inner walls once more.
Humming with unexpected pleasure, Abigail sighed and stroked her way down to his butt.
“You awake, baby?” Thomas’s low voice was right at her ear, and he readjusted one of his arms so he could caress her hair back from her face.
“Mm hmm.” She squeezed the firm flesh of his butt encouragingly, hoping to get him to move again.
He rocked into her gently, taking most of his weight onto his arms as he raised his upper body above her.
“Yeah,” she breathed, stretching sensually and tightening her fingers on his ass, using her grip to guide his motion to the rhythm she wanted.
It hadn’t been long since her previous orgasm, but she wanted another one. Her body was primed and eager, and her hips were already shamelessly moving.
Thomas kept his rhythm steady, slower than before. His eyes never left her face, and she couldn’t seem to look away either. Because of his earlier release, he was more controlled this time. His skin was slightly damp with perspiration, and the muscles of his arms and neck were clenched with a primal sort of tension. But his rhythm didn’t falter as they moved together under the covers.
Thomas rocked into her until she came. Then he lifted her thighs so she would wrap her legs around his waist.
Eventually, Abigail was drenched with sweat and gasping desperately, but her hips still pumped up against Thomas’s eagerly. The only sounds in the room were the jiggling of the bed, the faint slapping of their bodies together, and the mingled texture of their breathing. But, as Thomas accelerated his rhythm, working inside her more urgently, she started to make little sobbing sounds as she built up toward another orgasm.
Thomas was finally reaching the edge of his control, and the obvious strain on his face and in his clenched body pushed Abigail even closer to release. She loved the way he made her feel, but she loved even more when he revealed how much she pleased him, how much he wanted her, needed her.
“Abigail,” Thomas rasped, falling out of rhythm as his head jerked to the side. “Baby.”
Abigail arched up, crying out as spasms of pleasure sliced through her. Then she clawed at his ass when he froze inside her, his body clenched as tight as a fist.
“Thomas!” she gasped, not quite sure why she was saying his name, just feeling like she wanted to say it.
He let out a thick, rough groan as he jerked his hips helplessly against hers. His face flooded with a rush of intense pleasure. He pulsed inside her as he came, and then he collapsed on top of her like before.
Abigail was exhausted, completely wiped out and a little sore. But she felt wonderfully sated and like it was perfectly natural for her lie under the covers on a Sunday morning with a hot, relaxed, panting Thomas between her legs.
After a few minutes, however, she shifted beneath him. She wasn’t in danger of falling asleep again, and she was starting to recognize the significance of the gush of fluids between her thighs.
Plus, her legs were losing circulation.
Thomas rolled over, freeing her of his weight. But he stayed on his side next to her, one of his hands stroking her red face.
“Okay?” he asked, his green eyes watchful, even as they reflected deep satisfaction.
“Yeah.” Her voice came out as a croak, so she cleared her throat. “I think I must have been half-asleep just now.”
Thomas’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You appeared to be awake.”
Realizing how he’d read her words, she clarified. “I didn’t mean I didn’t want to...to do that. I did. Of course I did. But we should have used a condom.”
He visibly released a breath. “Honestly, I didn’t even think about it.”
“Me either. But...” She trailed off.
“But what?”
“I’m healthy, of course. I’ve never had sex with anyone but you.”
“I’ve never had sex with anyone but you either.” His voice and expression were both utterly seriously, as if he was waiting for some sort of boom to fall.
They’d both been virgins when they got married—raised in Christian homes, saving themselves for marriage. It had seemed normal to her back then, but it hit her anew in that moment, and she realized how unusual it was, how special it felt to her now.
That his body had always been for her alone.
“What are you afraid of, baby?”
“I’m not on birth control.”
Thomas was silent. When she dared to dart a look over at his face, she saw that his expression was mild and thoughtful. “I’m all right with whatever happens.”
Abigail hadn’t been nervous all night, everything feeling so perfectly natural, but now her heart started to hammer. “We can’t have another baby, Thomas.”
“Why not?”
“Thomas. We’re not…fixed.”
“Not yet. But you know how I feel about that.”
Abigail couldn’t stand the composure on his face, any more than she could stand the flicker of tenderness she saw in his eyes. He meant it.”
She sighed and rolled over. “Oh, Thomas, I’m sorry I’m still hesitating. I’m just still afraid of moving too fast.”
Thomas rolled over too, adjusting them until he was spooning her from behind. “I know you’re worried. I understand why. I wasn’t assuming that this, just now, meant that everything was fixed.” He stroked her belly softly, under his t-shirt she still wore. “I think things are getting better, though.”
“Yeah.” She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, letting herself enjoy that reality. She probably wasn’t pregnant. Given the time of the month, it was highly unlikely. And so this would be just another good step forward.
They didn’t speak any further, but their breathing fell into sync, and he kept gently stroking her belly under the t-shirt.
After a while, a childish voice spoke from the hall. “Mommy? Daddy? Where are you?”
“We’re in here, sweetie!” Abigail called out, instinctively responding to the plea in Mia’s voice. It was bright morning outside now, and Mia would have woken up disoriented and confused. Unable to find her parents when she needed them. A rush of guilt surged through Ab
igail at how she had been making love to Thomas, brooding over their relationship, when her daughter needed her. “It’s all right! We’re in here.”
It was only when Mia pushed the bedroom door open and padded in barefoot with wildly tangled hair that Abigail realized she probably should have gotten up before she let their daughter into the room.
Mia stared with wide eyes at her parents in the messy bed together. Thomas was still cradling Abigail against him, and he was naked under the covers.
Abigail had no idea what to say—how to explain an arrangement that must be bewildering to their six-year-old daughter. Evidently, Thomas was at a loss for words as well.
Mia stared in silence for a long moment. Then the expression on her face changed. “Mommy?” she asked, “Daddy? Do you love each other again?
Thomas recovered from the awkward silence that followed Mia’s question more quickly than Abigail did. “Can you do us a big favor, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice pitched to provoke his daughter’s interest.
Mia’s face changed, immediately alert at the shift in dynamic. “What, Daddy?”
“Can you go to the kitchen and turn on the coffee pot? It’s all set up. You just need to press the on button. Mommy and I just woke up, so can you do that for us?”
“Can I pour the coffee myself?”
“Maybe. But go turn it on first. It will take a little while to brew,” Abigail replied, finally finding her voice.
Delighted by this new task, the girl left the room to scurry down the hall toward the kitchen. As soon as she was out of sight, Abigail and Thomas leapt into action.
Abigail found Thomas’s flannel pants under the covers and flung them over at him. Then she dug farther under the sheet as he pulled his pants on. Thomas rolled out of the bed and strode to the bathroom. She heard water in the sink as he must have washed his hands and face. Abigail kept searching, groaning in frustration as she practically buried herself under the covers in her urgent hunt.
“What are you doing?” Thomas asked, returning to the bedroom.
“I can’t find my underwear!”
With a soft chuckle, Thomas joined the search, and they discovered her panties kicked all the way down in a corner at the bottom of the bed.
Abigail slid them on just as Mia returned. “I did it!” she announced, beaming with obvious pride at her accomplishment.
“Thank you.” She knew she needed to answer Mia’s earlier question. She tried to think of appropriate words, but she was still too uncomfortable in a rumpled bed that smelled like their morning lovemaking. She was also rather sloppy between her thighs from two rounds of sex.
Before she was able to think of something to say, Thomas bridged the gap. “Shall we make some breakfast, Mia?”
“Yeah! I’m starving!”
Thomas put a hand on Mia’s back and steered her out of the room. “We’ll get started while Mommy goes to the bathroom.”
“Okay.”
Abigail shot Thomas a grateful look. “I’ll be right there,” she called out before she headed for the bathroom, where she cleaned herself up and pulled on the jeans she’d been wearing the day before. She kept Thomas’s t-shirt on.
When she joined the other two in the kitchen, she found them absorbed in waffle-making. When breakfast was prepared, they took the waffles with some juice into the sunroom to eat. It was warm and bright in the room, and conversation was light and casual until Mia finally snuggled up next to Abigail on the settee.
Deciding that she couldn’t put the conversation off forever, Abigail began, “You asked me a question earlier."
Mia nodded, pushing her little glasses back up her nose. “Do you love Daddy again?”
They were speaking softly, and Thomas was calmly putting breakfast dishes onto a tray, but Abigail knew he was listening.
She understood why he was leaving the answer to her, and she appreciated his sensitivity.
Abigail cleared her throat. “Your daddy and I will always love each other.”
Mia frowned thoughtfully. “But do you love him so you want to be with him always?”
“I don’t know, sweetie,” Abigail admitted. “We’re taking our time before we decide. We’re going to spend some time together and see what happens.” She felt Thomas’s eyes on her, but she didn’t meet his gaze.
“Oh,” Mia said.
Abigail was terrified she was handling this wrong, but she didn’t know what to tell her daughter except for the truth. “How do you feel about that?”
“Okay.” Mia’s eyes moved back and forth between Thomas and Abigail. “Are you going to go on dates with Daddy now?”
“Maybe.”
“Oh. Will he take you to the symphony?”
“Maybe.” Abigail smiled fondly, vaguely impressed that their daughter was putting the pieces of the situation together so astutely.
“Will you get dressed up all pretty for Daddy?”
Abigail nodded. “Probably. But they’ll just be dates. We don’t know if that means we’ll be together all the time. We’ll have to see how it goes.”
“Like me trying karate to see if I like it before I sign up for the all-year class?”
“Yeah,” Abigail said, tightening her arm around the girl. “Something like that.”
“Okay.”
Mia seemed content with this explanation, and Abigail finally dared to meet Thomas’s gaze. There was a faint questioning look in his eyes that caused a clench in her chest, but he didn’t put the question into words.
***
An hour later, Abigail was towel-drying her hair after taking a shower. She turned to look over her shoulder as Thomas came into the bedroom.
He shut the door quietly behind him.
“Is Mia all right?”
“She’s reading,” he explained. His eyes never left her face, and suddenly Abigail knew what he was going to ask her. “Did you mean what you said to Mia earlier?”
“Uh, yeah. I did, I guess.”
He took a step closer to her. “So you’re willing to…to take that step?”
“Yes. I want to. A lot. But I think we still need to take it slow. We can’t just jump back to how we were. There’s still too much for us to work through. And I think we better start up counseling again.”
Thomas nodded. “I know that.” His voice was soft and his face unrevealing.
Suddenly nervous that she’d hurt him, that he was disappointed by her hesitance, she reached out to take his arm. “Is that all right, Thomas? I know we both want things to get better, but I—”
“Abigail,” Thomas interrupted as her voice cracked. Something changed, flared up in his eyes. “Do you actually think I’m disappointed?”
She studied his face again, and this time she recognized what had ignited in his eyes. Her cheeks warmed and she dropped her eyes, self-conscious and oddly delighted by the expression she’d seen there. “Oh.”
He gently took her face in his hands. “Abigail.”
She looked back up and saw again the blaze of excitement, passion, something like joy. For a moment, she was overwhelmed with shudders of responding emotion. And she admitted, “I’m excited too. But I’m still nervous about it. I don’t want to end up hurting you. And I won’t do anything to hurt Mia.”
“We’ll be careful,” he agreed. Then his mouth turned up in a tantalizing smile. “So do you have plans on Tuesday night?”
Abigail’s lips parted. “Tuesday?”
“I’m not on call on Tuesday night.” Thomas chuckled, a warm, delicious sound that seemed to travel through her whole being. “Why do you look so dumbfounded? I was just asking you out.”
***
On Tuesday evening, Thomas took Abigail to a small town about an hour away. Like Willow Park, it was a quaint town that had capitalized on its historic downtown and regional charm. Abigail had asked Thomas not to take her anywhere too close, since she didn’t want to feed the town gossips. So they left Mia with a babysitter and had driven out for an early dinner at a c
harming inn and then an outdoor folk-music concert on the town green. They even stopped in at a few of the antique and craft shops.
Abigail had a wonderful time. Thomas was excellent company—charming and clearly in good spirits. But he didn’t come on too strongly or overdo the flirting. He occasionally put a hand on her back as they walked, and he draped his arm on the back of her seat at the concert. But he acted basically natural, and that helped Abigail feel less self-conscious than she might have been on her first new date with her husband.
It was getting late when they ended up in a bakery for coffee and dessert. Abigail had had a glass of wine with dinner, but she was purposefully going light on the alcohol so she wouldn’t be tempted to get carried away by the evening’s atmosphere or Thomas’s warm charisma. She’d already decided it would probably be best not to have Thomas sleep over that night. She wanted to keep things as non-confusing to Mia as possible.
But Abigail was feeling absolutely wonderful—happy, relaxed, and pleased with the world in general—as she ate a decadent chocolate dessert on the patio of the bakery and laughed at Thomas’s wry banter.
They’d talked some about Mia on the drive out, but since they’d arrived in town they’d been talking about everything from architecture to politics to the new tour guide they’d hired at Milbourne House.
Thomas was just telling her about a bizarre man he’d met in the elevator of the hospital when a female voice interrupted them. “Dr. Morgan!”
Both Abigail and Thomas turned toward the speaker, an attractive woman with nut-brown hair and a cast on her wrist. She wore jeans and a button-up shirt, and her smile widened as she approached “Dr. Morgan. Were you here for the concert?”
Thomas stood up and held out his hand in greeting. “Bethany, it’s good to see you. Yes, we drove out for the concert.”
Bethany turned to Abigail with a smile. “I hope you enjoyed it.”
Abigail stood up too. “Yes, it was lovely.”
“This is Bethany Harris,” Thomas said, his eyes on Abigail’s face. Something in his expression had changed, but Abigail couldn’t pin it down. “She’s a nurse at the hospital. Bethany, this is Abigail.”
