He brushed the nipple with his thumb. She made a small, throaty sound. He lost control. No more slow seduction. No waiting until tonight. He had to have her now.

“Gah?”

He curled his free hand around her bottom. Her breathy, helpless sounds were driving him wild.

“Da?”

All day he’d been imagining her breasts, and now he had to see them. He pushed up her top.

“DA!”

Nell stiffened. Sharp little fingernails dug into his leg. He whipped his hand out of her top.

She jerked away from him. Her lips were wet and swollen, her cheeks flushed, her expression appalled.

Both of them gazed down at their infant chaperone, who was regarding them with all the disapproval of a Pentecostal church organist. Mat wanted to throw back his head and howl.

“Nah!”

Nell pressed a hand to that sweet breast he’d only just begun to explore. “Oh, my God. She knows what we were doing.”

“Damn,” he growled. “Now we’ll have to kill her.” He glared at the baby.

Nell dropped down and swooped her up. “Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry. You should never have seen that.” Her eyes flew to his. “Something like that could traumatize her.”

“I sincerely doubt that.” Right now he felt a lot more traumatized than that baby.

She regarded the Demon earnestly. “You shouldn’t have seen what you did, Button. But you need to know there was nothing wrong with it. Well, almost nothing . . . I mean, we’re adults and not teenagers. And when a mature woman is with an attractive man . . .”

“Yeah? You think I’m attractive?”

When was he going to learn to keep his big mouth shut? She cuddled Button to her breast and regarded him critically. “I’m sure you think it’s silly to explain this to an infant, but no one really knows how much babies understand.”

“Somehow I don’t think that she’s going to understand this for a few more years.” He thought about throwing himself in the shower, clothes and all.

She returned her attention to the baby. “Mat and I are responsible adults, Button, and we know . . .” She paused just when he was starting to enjoy himself, and sniffed the Demon’s breath.

“She smells like . . .” She whipped some orange slime from the corner of the baby’s mouth and examined it. “She’s been eating cheese curls! Oh, God! She ate them off the floor. Is there any ipecac in that first-aid kit?”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re not giving that baby ipecac. Come here, Demon, before she threatens you with a stomach pump.” He took the baby, even though he was feeling less than charitable with her.

“But—”