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I close the photo and place the phone back on the nightstand.
I hear the sound of a mug being set down in the kitchen, then Brody’s voice humming. I don’t call out. I don’t move yet.
I just lie here, wrapped in linen sheets, smiling, trying to convince myself this is really my life.
A breath later, the bedroom door creaks open, and Brody appears in the doorway, holding a mug in one hand and wearing nothing but a pair of low-slung pajama pants that should be illegal.
He leans against the doorframe and looks at me like I’m his sunrise.
“I was going to let you sleep in.”
“I know,” I say, stretching lazily. “But I missed you.”
He lifts the mug like an offering. “Forgive me. I brought coffee.”
I sit up, the sheet slipping from my chest. His eyes slide down my half-naked body, and I feel fully seen and appreciated. He crosses the room, sets the mug down on the nightstand, and then slides into the bed beside me, reaching for my waist like it’s second nature.
“Hi,” I whisper.
“Hi,” he says, brushing a kiss against my bare shoulder. “You look so fucking sexy. I just can’t help myself.”
His hand drifts lower, fingers skimming over the curve of my hip, and I don’t stop him. I tilt into his touch, hungry, wanting to come undone together.
“You didn’t come back to bed just to give me coffee, right?” I ask.
His mouth brushes the edge of my jaw as he kisses up my neck until he meets my ear. “I missed my favorite view.”
His fingers slide beneath the sheet, warm against my skin, and when he kisses me this time, it’s laced with something sweeter than urgency—it’s gratitude. His tongue slides against mine, his hand gripping my thigh, pulling me closer, and suddenly, there’s no air between us. No distance at all.
“You looked good with him,” I whisper, breath catching as he moves back to the softness of my neck.
“Who?” he asks, smiling against my skin.
“The baby,” I mutter, threading my fingers into his hair. “The picture.”
He lifts his head and meets my eyes, and for a moment, everything goes still.
“One day,” he says, rubbing his strong hand against my belly, “I’ll give you a baby.”
My heart flips, then lands, steady and sure.
I pull him back down to me, lips brushing his. “One day, I want that. When we’re both ready.”
“We’ll get lots of practice until then.” He smirks.
“Hell yes,” I say. “Lots and lots and lots of practice. We’ll be pros.”
And just like that, the coffee goes cold on the nightstand, completely forgotten as he slides between my legs. His cock is hard, thick, pressed right up against the curve of my thigh, like it woke up already desperate for me. I’m still half asleep, but my body is awake, ready and wet. I ache for him, and I shift just enough to press back into him.
His hand slides down my side to my waist in a possessive but gentle way. His palm cups my pussy like it’s his to hold. My nipples harden instantly as he flips me onto my back with one fluid motion, pinning my wrists above my head with one hand, the other skimming down to my thigh.
“I’m in control this time,” he growls against my skin, nibbling along my jaw until his lips crash into mine.
I grin, loving every damn second of it.
He unapologetically claims me with his tongue, taking what he wants, and I give it all to him. I moan as my hips roll up instinctively.
“So fucking wet for me,” he mutters against my lips when his fingers part me. He rubs gentle circles against my clit, adding just enough pressure to make me gasp. “You gonna be good for me today?”