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They file out of the nursery to head outside. Tyler stays behind and leans down, planting a soft but tempting kiss on my lips.
“They certainly don’t look as good as you did, little miss tourist.”
Tyler and I haven’t had sex since Cecilia was born. The doctor actually cleared me over two weeks ago, but Tyler’s been resistant. While I appreciate that he’s scared it’s too soon and he doesn’t want to hurt me, I’m about 10 seconds away from becoming a feral animal and tearing off his clothes.
Not only are the postpartum hormones driving me crazy, but I swear he’s gone out of his way to be extra sexy lately. Watching him wash bottles, clean my breast pump, change diapers . . . it’s like a new version of sexy has entered my world.
I feed Cecilia and put her down for a nap. I check the time and figure Tyler will be back in about 30 minutes. I sprint to our bedroom and take a quick shower, shaving every inch of my body and slathering myself with lotion.
I root around in my closet, pulling out the little jean shorts and flannel shirt I was wearing the first day I met Tyler.
“Please fit,” I say as I tug the shorts up my thighs. I jump up and down, shimmying my hips back and forth until I squeeze them on. They can’t button, so I fold down the top. I don’t bother with a bra, and I leave the bottom three buttons of the shirt undone and pull them up, tying them in a knot right under my breasts. My body is certainly not back to what it was before pregnancy, but I’m not letting that stop me.
I find the boots and hat and put them on, looking myself over in the mirror. My gaze drops down to my now-soft belly and I run my hand over it. My brain immediately wants to overanalyze things, to focus on the fact that I don’t look like I used to anymore, but I push those thoughts aside.
“Something’s missing—oh!” I go to the bathroom and pull out the red lipstick I wore. I flip my head over and spray my hair with dry shampoo to give it some oomph since I didn’t wash it.
The front door opens and I hear Tyler’s footsteps slowly coming up the stairs. I let out a nervous breath and run to the closet to grab one more thing. I place it on the bed then casually lean against the doorway of the bathroom as Tyler enters the room.
“Hey baby, I—holy fuck.” His eyes drag down my body before reaching down to adjust himself in his jeans. “Goddamn, you look good.” He walks over to me, his hands settling on my hips as he leans in and presses his lips to my neck.
“So do you,” I murmur, my fingers lacing through his hair as I pull him closer.
“You need something, sweetheart?” His voice is a low rumble in my ear as his hands slide up my body to my breasts.
“Mm-hmm,” I moan.
“Tell me,” he says as he pinches my nipples softly through my shirt.
“Look on the bed.”
He pulls his head back and turns around, his gaze falling to the belt I’ve placed on it.
“You sure you’re ready for that?”
I nod and step around him, my hand fisting his shirt as I lead him toward the bed.
“I’m done asking nicely, Tyler.” I sit on the edge of the bed and lean back on my hands. “I’m telling this time.”
His eyes darken as he rubs the scruff on his chin. He slowly nods once as he leans forward and grabs the belt. He wraps it slowly around his hand, the tension continuing to build between us.
He steps closer to me, his belt buckle at eye level. Finally, he reaches down, hooking his finger under my chin and forcing me to look up at him.
“Remember what I said about who’s in charge in the bedroom?”
I drag my teeth across my bottom lip and shrug. “I guess I forgot.”
“Well then, looks like I need to give you a reminder so you don’t forget again.”
I stand up and run my hand softly down his chest.
“Undress me,” he demands.
I obey immediately. I unbutton his shirt and pull it open to press my palms flat against his taut, warm skin. My eyes go to the scar on his upper left chest and shoulder area, my fingers softly running over the rough edge of the scars. My eyes go to his.
“Don’t go there,” he whispers, knowing that my mind has instantly started to spin around what life would’ve been like if he hadn’t made it. “Not right now.”
He grabs my hands, bringing my attention back to the moment, and loops the belt tightly around my wrists.
