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“Would you work after you give birth? You don’t have to,” Oliver asked gently.
“I know, but I think I might want to. You should think about a daycare center. I know there are working mothers at Fox,” I suggested.
“Maybe you should check into the cost,” Oliver agreed, his expression thoughtful. “And space. The building is packed. Without a vacancy, we wouldn’t be able to set one up.”
I backed away from him and opened my arms. “What about up here? The children can play outdoors when it’s nice.”
“I’m not sure. I would have to think about it. Speak to Mark and let him draw up a budget analysis,” I replied, considering the idea of a daycare center at Fox.
“Suppose it’s too much?” I asked, concern etching my features.
“How much is it worth to you?” he countered, meeting my gaze squarely.
“It’s worth it. I know some of these women miss their children or it’s very expensive for daycare. I’m sure they would love to be able to see their kids during the day,” I said thoughtfully.
“I’m putting it in your hands. You check it out and we’ll go over the figures,” he decided, nodding decisively.
“Why didn’t you ever consider it before? You have a lot of women on staff,” I wondered aloud.
“I just never thought about it,” he admitted with a shrug.
“I’m glad I brought it up,” I said sincerely.
“Don’t thank me yet. We have to see what the cost is,” he cautioned.
“If it’s too much, then what about asking for a contribution? As long as it’s less than families are paying now, it would be worth it. We could set up a deduction from their paychecks,” I suggested, my mind already working on potential solutions.
“Let’s crunch the numbers first and then we’ll talk. We should head back. I have a conference call in a half hour, and I have some notes to go over,” he said, glancing at his watch.
We gathered our things and made our way back to the elevator, our minds already focused on the next steps in our busy day.
Chapter 3
Oliver took me to a charming French bistro for dinner. I ordered the petite filet mignon and fingerling potatoes, but my focus wasn't entirely on the meal.
Throughout dinner, my fiancé seduced me with his eyes and playful banter, building anticipation until we left the restaurant. By then, I was so aroused that I could feel the dampness between my thighs, eager for what awaited us at home.
On the drive back, we teased each other, delaying our desire until we stepped through our front door.
“Harder, Oliver,” I moaned as he had me bent over the arm of the couch in our living room. My light blue lace panties lay in shreds on the floor, skirt hiked up to my waist. He thrust into me with a primal intensity that took my breath away, each stroke sending waves of pleasure through me.
“Shit, Ryleigh, I’m going to tear you apart if I go any harder,” he rasped, his voice filled with lust.
I tightened around him, groaning his name as I finally reached my climax. He slowed momentarily, allowing me to ride out the waves of pleasure before picking up speed again. I clung to the fabric of the couch, feeling every powerful thrust until he found release a minute later. Oliver folded over my back, his hot breath on my neck as he caught his breath.
“You’re a fucking tease,” he growled, his voice still rough with desire.
“So are you. Don’t blame me when you’re just as guilty,” I teased back, a satisfied smile playing on my lips.
“But I wanted to fuck you in the limo. You’re the one who said no,” Oliver retorted.
“Because I wanted to wait until we got home. We couldn’t go wild in the limo. But we can here,” I explained, breathless and content.
“I hope you’ll be just as adventurous on our honeymoon,” he mused.
“I plan to be. Maybe we can make love outdoors, like at the lagoon,” I suggested playfully.
“I was hoping you’d shed some inhibitions on Fox Island. I want you to feel free,” Oliver said, his tone filled with longing.
