Page 43 of Montana Justice
Lachlan
The house was finally quiet. After three stories, two glasses of water, and one bathroom trip each, the twins were down for the night. I stood in their doorway, watching Caleb and Sadie sleep in their toddler beds, still amazed that these perfect little humans were mine.
“They asleep?” Piper’s voice came from behind me, soft and warm.
“Out cold.” I pulled their door mostly closed and turned to face my wife. “Happy anniversary.”
“Mmm.” She stepped into my arms, fitting against me like she’d been designed for this exact spot. “Two years. Can you believe it?”
“Best two years of my life.”
She tilted her head up, and I caught the look in her eyes—heat mixed with love mixed with something that made my pulse kick up. “The night’s still young, Sheriff. Got any ideas how we should celebrate?”
“A few.” I backed her against the hallway wall, caging her with my arms. “Starting with this.”
I kissed her the way I’d been wanting to all day—deep and slow and thorough. She made that little sound in the back of her throat that always drove me crazy, her fingers tangling in my hair.
“Bedroom,” she gasped when I moved to her neck. “Now.”
“Bossy.” But I was already walking her backward, my lips never leaving her skin.
We barely made it through our bedroom door before she was pulling at my shirt, her hands impatient. Two years of marriage hadn’t dimmed the heat between us—if anything, it made us burn hotter. We knew each other’s bodies now, knew exactly how to drive each other wild.
“Off,” she demanded, tugging at my belt.
“You first.” I caught her hands, spinning her to face the mirror on our closet door. “I want to unwrap my anniversary present properly.”
She leaned back against me, watching our reflection as I slowly unbuttoned her blouse. Each button revealed more skin, and I took my time, kissing every inch I exposed.
“Lachlan.” My name came out as a plea when I finally pushed the fabric off her shoulders.
“What’s the rush?” I unhooked her bra with practiced ease, watching her eyes flutter closed in the mirror as my hands covered her breasts. “We’ve got all night.”
“Do we, though?” She pressed back against me, and I bit back a groan at the friction.
“Because I seem to remember two little alarm clocks that go off around six a.m., regardless of how late their parents stayed up.”
Fair point. But I wasn’t ready to rush this. Not tonight.
I turned her to face me, walking her backward toward our bed. “Then we better make it count.”
Her knees hit the mattress and she sat, looking up at me with those eyes that still knocked me sideways. I stood between her legs, cupping her face.
“I love you,” I said, needing her to hear it. “These two years, building our family, watching you create the Phoenix Program, seeing you heal and grow—you’ve made me the luckiest man alive.”
Tears gathered in her eyes. “Don’t make me cry when I’m trying to seduce you.”
“Who says you can’t do both?”
I kissed her again, softer this time, pouring everything I felt into it. Her hands went to my belt again, and this time, I let her, shucking my pants while she wiggled out of hers.
“God, you’re beautiful.” The words came out reverent as I looked at her—my wife, the mother of my children, my everything.
“Come here.” She pulled me down onto the bed, and we came together in a tangle of limbs and breathless laughter when my foot got caught in the sheets.
But the laughter died when skin met skin. When her legs wrapped around my waist and her nails scraped down my back. When she arched beneath me, calling my name.
“Wait.” I pulled back, reaching for the nightstand. “Condom.”
“No.” She caught my hand. “I want another baby. I want to try.”
I froze. “Piper…”
“I know we said we’d wait another year. But I’m ready. The program’s established, the twins are getting more independent, and I… I want our family to grow. If you do.”
Instead of answering with words, I kissed her until we were both gasping. The thought of her pregnant again, of creating another life together—it lit something primal in me.
“Is that a yes?” she managed between kisses.
“That’s a hell yes. And this time, I’m going to be there for the whole pregnancy.”
She laughed, the sound turning to a moan as I moved down her body, determined to worship every inch. Two years, and I still couldn’t get enough of her. The way she responded to my touch, the sounds she made, the way she said my name like a prayer.
“Lachlan, please.” She tangled her fingers in my hair, tugging. “I need you.”
“Soon.” I was enjoying this too much, the way she writhed beneath me, the way her breathing went ragged. “Very soon.”
“Now.” She pulled harder, and I gave in, moving back up her body.
I positioned myself at her entrance, teasing, making us both wait for it. Her hips lifted, seeking, and I had to grip the sheets to keep control.
“Please,” she whispered, and that single word destroyed my restraint.
I slid into her slowly, watching her face as I filled her inch by inch.
Her mouth fell open, eyes fluttering closed, and the sight nearly ended me right there.
Two years of this, and it still felt like the first time—that perfect grip, the way she opened for me, how we fit together like we’d been made for exactly this.
“God, Piper.” I had to still for a moment, forehead pressed to hers, just breathing her in.
She wrapped her legs around my waist, heels digging into my back, pulling me impossibly deeper. The movement made us both gasp, and she used the leverage to rock against me, taking control of the rhythm.
“You feel so good,” she breathed against my ear. “So perfect. Always so perfect.”
I started to move, slow and deep, wanting to make this last. But she was having none of it, raking her nails down my back, her hips meeting mine with increasing urgency.
“Look at me,” she whispered.
I did, finding her eyes in the dim light from our bathroom. The love I saw there, mixed with desire and trust and forever—it nearly undid me.
We moved together, finding our rhythm, hands clasped above her head. Everything else fell away—the responsibilities, the past, the future. There was just this. Just us.
“I love you,” she gasped, her body tightening around me. “So much.”
“Show me.” I released her hands to touch her where we were joined, and she shattered with a cry she muffled against my shoulder.
I followed her over, her name on my lips like a benediction.
Afterward, we lay tangled together, her head on my chest, my fingers combing through her hair. The house was quiet except for our breathing gradually returning to normal.
“So,” she said eventually, tracing patterns on my chest. “Think that worked?”
“If not, I’m more than willing to keep trying.” I felt her smile against my skin. “Repeatedly. Enthusiastically. Multiple times a day if necessary.”
“My hero.” She yawned, curling closer. “Sacrificing for the cause.”
“Someone’s got to do it.”
She pinched my side, making me laugh. Then she grew serious, propping herself up to look at me.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
“For the mind-blowing sex? You’re welcome.”
“Lachlan.” But she was smiling. “For this life. For believing in second chances. For seeing who I could be instead of who I was.”
I pulled her up for a kiss. “You were always her. You just needed space to become her.”
“And you gave me that.” She settled back against my chest. “You and the twins and this whole beautiful, messy life. Sometimes I can’t believe it’s real.”
“Believe it.” I pulled the covers over us, already feeling sleep tugging at me. “This is just the beginning.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
As she drifted off to sleep, I thought about everything we’d built from the ashes of our broken beginnings. A family. A home. A program that saved lives. A love that had survived betrayal and bloomed into something unshakable.
And maybe, if tonight had worked its magic, another little miracle to add to our chaos.
The alarms would go off too early. The twins would bounce into our room demanding pancakes. Life would continue in all its beautiful, exhausting glory.
But right now, holding my wife in our bed, in our home, surrounded by the life we’d built together—right now was perfect.
Happy anniversary to us.
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