“I don’t care,” she said, her own voice strange to her. There was something, she remembered as she ditched her jeans and underwear, about feeling out of control that was so wonderfully alluring. She couldn’t stop him any more than she could stop herself. Maybe if she didn’t know how finely tuned their bodies were she could have controlled herself. But the feeling that she had no power over her desires made her head spin and her body tremble.

While kissing her, fondling her, touching her in the most delicious ways, he also undressed himself, lowered her to the rug and found the protection he had purchased. She said a tiny, guilty prayer of thanks that he was sensible, because she herself was positively brain dead from lust.

His hand moved down her belly, over her mound of curly yellow hair, and his fingers gently spread her to touch her most delicate, sensitive place.

She shook from within, her legs instinctively tightening over his hand, her hips instinctively arching upward. Her breath came in one giant gasp, which he covered with his mouth and tongue while he pressed his hand harder into her flesh. Slowly, slowly, she came back, her eyes closed, her breath becoming even. He rose above her and looked into her eyes.

“Well, love, I don’t have to feel guilty if I can’t spend a lot of time inside you. I’m on the edge myself.”

She only nodded, flooded with heat and passion. She opened herself up so that he could press himself inside her, and then a new sensation filled her. She loved this; she loved him. He moved, slowly and evenly, picking up speed and moving faster, and she began again, that build and rise. And just as she felt him lunge within, it happened again. Again, she was drenched in pleasure, flooded with heat.

In a half-dazed state, stroking his back and massaging his shoulders, she remembered back…way back…to their first time. She’d had so little experience when John made love to her the first time. And it had been like this before—his touch alone could propel her into ecstasy. She recalled thinking, “Wow, this is great!” like a kid who’d just discovered chocolate.

Now, however, she already knew how great this was. This time there was something more she had to deal with, think about.

“John?” she began.

“Mmmmm?”

“John, about the boys… ”

He kissed her lips. “I’m crazy about the boys, Leigh. I’ll adopt them, play with them, be as good a dad as I can…whatever you want.”

“But, John, I want to tell you about the boys.”