Fourth of July fireworks exploded behind Emily’s eyelids, all the colors of the rainbow, while those same explosions took off within her body, sending her skyrocketing towards millions of shards of light. Barely aware of her surroundings, Emily soared into her first orgasm over two years in the making, flying in all directions yet becoming one simultaneously.
Afterwards, vaguely aware of Shane rolling aside so as not to crush her, Emily felt too sated to move, luxuriating in the lack of tenseness within her body. For once worry of how the kids were coping was not paramount in her mind; in fact, naming them in order might prove to be too difficult at this moment! All she wanted to do was remain floating on the afterglow. Turning to the side, she drifted on the edges of sleep, loose-limbed and drowsy.
Gentle fingers gliding along her bare back, pausing at her bottom, momentarily awakened Emily some time later. Along with his feather light touch, Shane’s voice rumbled behind her.
“I killed her; I knew I would. I’m just too potent for my own good...”
Lips curving despite her languor, Emily replied lazily, “Shut up.”
Shane nuzzled her neck from behind, causing Emily’s eyes to close on a sigh and butterflies to start fluttering deep within her as he growled, “Shut up? You dare say shut up to me? Just you wait, once the troops have rallied, so to speak, I’ll demand your respect—“
Suddenly wide awake and with renewed purpose, Emily gave in to temptation and turned the tables on Shane. Rolling quickly to face him, she pushed him onto his back and rose above him even as the moonlight reflected on her pale skin. Shane’s expression became intent as he looked up at the woman pinning him deliciously to the bed, her hands splayed on his chest. Playfully she shifted slightly, eliciting a groan from him.
“Mmmm, Captain, I think the troops are ready. Shall we deploy?” Emily drawled as she leaned over him for one of those handy packets he’d supplied.
Shane took advantage of the body parts she presented in her forward moving position, kneading with fingers and laving with tongue until she moved to take him in, but he rolled them over, saying roughly in her ear, “Slow this time, remember? I want all of you screaming for me now.”
He bent his head to hers, lips meeting tenderly, gently, as if they had all the time in the world. He didn’t stay too long, however; soon he began nibbling along her jaw, down her neck. Emily stretched her neck, allowing him better access even as she tried to turn to capture his lips. Shane would have none of it; his mouth and tongue slipped on down, touching shoulders, collarbone, and finally breasts.
“So perfect,” he breathed over her, causing goose bumps and shivers all along Emily’s skin while suckling first one breast, then the other, until she was begging him to finish her off.
“Not yet, sweetheart,” and then he was moving downwards, kissing every inch of her body. What he didn’t kiss, his sorcerer’s hands touched, till she was on fire from the inside out, burning for him, near to tears, until Shane took pity (on her or himself, he wasn’t quite sure) and slipped into her. Knowing she was on the edge, he managed to prolong the pleasure just enough so that when Emily finally dove over that precipice, he joined her, feeling himself so deep within he didn’t think he’d find his way out.
Afterwards only gasps for air filled the room, until Shane eventually dragged himself off Emily, whose body resembled a rag doll, as he flopped to his back, picking up their earlier conversation while camouflaging the strength of emotion engendered by their lovemaking.
“I’m afraid the troops have scattered, ma’am. A virulent mutiny. There’s nothing left. I can’t even raise the white flag, if you catch my drift.”
A panting laugh answered him.
“You’re incorrigible, Mr. McNeal.” She scooted closer to him, and they turned in one accord, spooning and drifting off to sleep together.
Twice more that night Emily was awakened by skillful fingers and clever tongue, brought to such exquisite pleasure she believed she’d never experienced the like before. Darrell and she had had a wonderful sex life together early on, but now she was a woman, and Emily instinctively realized she and Shane met on a totally different plane than she and Darrell. And, bless his heart, Darrell had always tried to please her but Holy Cow! If this wasn’t the most mind-blowing sex Emily had ever participated in, she couldn’t remember. And just when she felt sure Shane had done his best, the onslaught began anew, topping their previous union somehow. Sleep came quickly after each interlude, their bodies’ way of replenishing energy lost so enjoyably...
***
Daylight. The morning after. Groggy with lack of sleep, and what little sleep she’d had being deep and boneless, Emily at first did not remember her nocturnal activities; the reason why she seemed so deliciously relaxed, yet felt aching muscles, momentarily eluded her. And then the memories poured through her brain, causing Emily to throw the covers over her head with an embarrassed groan, their conduct of the night before vividly replaying in her head. He rising above her, she straddling him, the things their mouths and hands had done to each other under the cloak of darkness...
“Oh, my God! What have I done?”
She’d slept with her boss, that’s what. Although sleep hadn’t really entered into the equation. And if she was truthful with herself, she’d lost part of her heart in the process. Emily sat up in bed, quickly wrapping the bed sheet about her even though she knew she was alone. She pondered her predicament with chin resting on knees. Knowing Shane McNeal was interested in her hadn’t been a secret; his flirting was a dead giveaway. But finding out she’d been lusting after him was an eye-opener. But what to do now? That now being—she glanced at the alarm clock in shock.
“7:15 in the morning? Oh, shit!” Emily stumbled from the bed, tripping on the sheets as she ran to her wardrobe and pulled out ugly gray sweats after stopping at the underwear drawer, since her panties from last night were tumbled somewhere in the bed clothes. Wondering how much of the house the twins had destroyed unsupervised, Emily flew down the hall to their room. Both new beds were empty. In fact, the whole floor was empty.
“That’s strange,” she mused as she headed down the stairs. There was definitely noise down here.
The tableau in the kitchen halted Emily at the foot of the stairs, rooted in disbelief. For at the counter sat the twins, albeit bouncing on their chairs, but seated just the same, along with Danielle. In the kitchen worked Shane, flanked by Dana and Darcy. The noise level was stupendous; the twins were chanting for “Breakfas’! Breakfas’!” and thumping their fork handles. Danielle was giggling at them, while Dana kept shushing them. Darcy stirred what looked to be oatmeal, which boded ill for Shane, since the twins hated oatmeal, and Shane poured pancake batter onto a griddle next to Darcy. Undetected by the characters in this scene, Emily studied the man at the center of the action.
Shane McNeal looked unfazed by their night of debauchery, eyes bright and focused on his task, although his hair stood about his head like a fallen angel’s halo, his chin sported more stubble, and the uniform of too tight T-shirt and plaid pajama bottoms only made him sexier looking in Emily’s opinion. Groaning inwardly at her fan-girl mentality, she stepped off the last stair; Shane looked up, meeting her eyes with a raised eyebrow and a softening of his gaze. Then the kids caught sight of her, and pandemonium broke loose.
“Mama! Mama!”
“Sh-a-ane’s cookin’ breakfas’!”
“Look, Mom! I’m cooking with Shane!”
Oh, her head ached from lack of sleep, too much sex, and too much morning noise. As her eyes skidded into his, Shane winked, then leaned in to Dana and said lowly, yet loud enough for Emily to hear, “Your mom looks like she had a rough night. Why don’t you pour her a cup of coffee while I dish this up, ‘kay?”
The young girl nodded, heading for the coffee machine to do as bid. Glancing up, Shane caught Emily’s dagger-like look sent his way, and it took all his power not to laugh out loud at the picture his grumpy housekeeper made. While night-long orgies energized him, obviously they had the opposite effect on the mother of five. He couldn’t blame her, really, for feeling the way she did. This breakfast gig was a killer, with everyone wanting something different to eat. He felt like a short order cook at Denny’s. As he poured oatmeal into David’s bowl he kept an eye on Emily as she shuffled further into the room, hair resembling a Brillo pad and apparent whisker burns on her neck and who knew elsewhere. Attention diverted as it was, Shane nearly jumped out of his skin when David let out a blood curdling scream.
“Noooo! No oatmeal! I hate oatmeal! Yucky!”
Of course his twin jumped into the melee, singing harmony to David’s shrieking melody.
“Eeewww! Yucky oatmeal!”
“What the hell?” cried Shane unthinkingly, his alarmed eyes colliding with Emily’s, who smiled smugly as she took a leisurely sip of hot coffee before entering the fray.
Stepping in between the two unhappy children, she put an arm around each one, leaned in close and said quietly, “Hush. Mr. McNeal didn’t know you don’t like oatmeal. I think he was pretty nice to try and feed all of you while I was, uh,” Emily looked up to meet Shane’s amused expression, eyebrows raised, waiting to hear her G-rated explanation of last night.
“Sleeping in a little,” she grinned triumphantly, kissing each twin on the top of the head while taking the oatmeal bowls away, handing them off to Dana, who dutifully put them aside.
“The pancakes are burning, Shane,” Darcy tugged on Shane’s shirt as he studied her mother.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, they need to be flipped.” His attention returned to cooking, and breakfast moved on without a hitch.
Pushing away from the table twenty minutes later, Shane surveyed the demolished kitchen, wondering offhandedly how Emily managed to keep the place so neat while cooking with five kids in attendance. He’d destroyed the room in one mealtime, and she did this three times a day, every day; they never went out for meals, even though he sometimes did, especially when he’d been engrossed in writing and missed dinner completely.
“I think it’s only right that we clean up for Mr. McNeal after he made such a good breakfast for us, don’t you, kids?” Emily asked her brood, glancing at Shane’s relieved face and smiling knowingly at his obvious relief. Of course, the three little ones objected strenuously, but Emily managed to get them to clear the table of cutlery while she and Dana and Darcy began picking through the carnage he’d left behind on the counters.
Feeling stuffed to the gills from eating the twins’ rejected oatmeal, Shane stood, stretching, and said suggestively, “I did a lot of research last night, so I’ve got to get it all down before I forget and have to start all over.”
The clatter of a dropped cup in the sink told Shane Emily correctly interpreted his remark, so he grinned widely and excused himself, inviting everyone to join him for a walk on the beach in an hour as he sauntered by his flustered housekeeper.
***
It took Emily and the kids nearly the whole hour to clean the kitchen after breakfast, but she managed to grab a few minutes in order to make herself presentable, smoothing back her hair, skimming a light lipstick on her lips, and changing into capris with a coordinating sweatshirt.
Feeling at once both excited and nervous to be with Shane alone (well, relatively alone) after last night, Emily nearly skipped down the stairs like one of her children.
The family room was empty. Turning around, she spied her offspring on the outside deck with Shane and she paused, watching them for a moment. The twins were spinning like tops, arms outstretched, trying to make themselves dizzy. Dana was trying to put Danielle into her jacket, for it was still overcast and cool this Sunday morning, and Shane was kneeling in front of Darcy, of course, zipping her into her sweatshirt and talking with a smile. Her daughter nodded at something he said, and he rose to his full height, skimming a forefinger down Darcy’s nose as he did so.
Their eyes met as Emily came out onto the deck, held, then turned to the kids, releasing the energy charge felt when gazes connected.
“Let’s go, guys! Stay out of the water; it’s freezing,” Emily admonished, as they all trooped down the stairs to the sand. Emily noticed David took Shane’s hand as they descended. His shorter legs got tired on all the steps, even though his twin never slowed down.
As they reached the bottom, Shane said to her son, “Next time, remind me to use the elevator! That was a long ways, huh?” Man and boy sagely nodded together, and then David took off after the other kids, leaving the adults alone at last.
Shane and Emily walked side by side, not touching, making their way to the damp, packed down sand along the water’s edge. Only a few die-hard beach fanatics roamed the sand; the clouds kept most tourists away until much later in the day. Finally Shane gave a sideways glance at his companion, whose downward gaze gave no indication of her thoughts.
“Feeling okay?” He asked guilelessly.
Her head snapped up, pink in her cheeks, as she replied softly, “Umm, yeah. You?”
“What do you think? Last night was phenomenal, you were phenomenal. If I could’ve written that scene...well, I couldn’t have. You’re room or mine tonight?”
Eyes widening in shock, Emily stopped walking, staring at her boss, her lover, taking in the beanie cap pulled low over his ears, navy hoodie with his hands shoved into the pockets, grinning unrepentantly back at her. Angry, and confused because she was, Emily strode past him, attempting to catch up to the children, but he grabbed her arm, insisting she face him, losing his grin and becoming serious.
“Hey, what’s the matter?” He waved a finger between the two of them and continued. “We connected last night, in a big way. You can’t pretend it didn’t happen, sweetheart, because it did. Four times, in fact, if I’m counting right. Now, you’ve been a bit sheltered, married as you were, but me, well, believe me when I say, this was different.—“
“Oh, please, Shane! Shagging women is hardwired into your make-up! Don’t tell me what we did was so different than others in your past. Now, c’mon, we have to catch up with everybody.”
Shane had to hustle to overtake Emily’s power walk. Once he had, he passed her, then turned, walking backwards quickly to face the object of his attention.
“Okay, alright, I have slept with a lot of women,” he raised a finger at her irritable toss of the head, “but not like that. Shit, I sound like a lovesick teenager. Have I brought anyone home since I moved here? Huh? I don’t hear an answer, Mrs. Wakeland.” He cupped a hand behind his ear as a listening device, waiting for a response. A smile cracked slightly, but she kept walking, closing in on the kids, who were drawing faces in the sand. Tripping over his feet Shane stumbled, righted himself, bringing himself up short next to the kids.
Focusing on them and ignoring the cantankerous woman beside him, Shane said, “You guys wanna find baby sand crabs?” At their chorus of high pitched assents, Shane hunched his shoulders and squinted from their sheer volume, then knelt near the foam from the incoming waves, pointing at dimples in the wet sand.
“See those? That means little crabs are digging in deeper into the sand. If you poke around like this,” he exhibited with his own finger, “they’ll come out looking for a new hiding place,” and sure enough, a little crab scuttled away and back into the sand. The kids jumped up and down, while the twins immediately started plowing their fingers indiscriminately into the wet sand, crabs or no crabs. Shane hoped the beach ecosystem wouldn’t be irreparably harmed after this morning’s activities, since the kids were going lickity-split crab hunting. It did afford him the chance to stand and continue his conversation with Emily.
“All I’m saying, Em, is, let’s explore this—this chemistry we’ve got going and see where it leads. You seemed to have an okay time last night, didn’t you?” Ah, the pink stain across her cheeks told the story, even as she answered softly.
“You know I did, you heartless man! Quit hunting for compliments! It’s just...the kids come looking for me sometimes at night—“
“Your room it is, then. And, really, you should own one of those walkie-talkie things you put in kids’ rooms so you can hear them before you see them. We’ll get one today.”
When had they become a We? His boyishly charming face worked on her emotions just as David’s did, and Emily found herself smiling shyly back, then she frowned and asked suspiciously, “Why were there, uh, you know, in my end table drawer?”
His sheepish look spoke volumes.
“You’ve got to be kidding! That’s a guest room, Shane! Are they in every room of the house?”
Before she got wound up totally, Shane interrupted lowly. “Yes, alright, I’m a hound dog! Was a hound dog. Besides, sometimes guests get...lonely, too. They came in handy, though, last night, didn’t they? If I recall, you were in dire straits up until that point—“
“Shhh! Alright, tonight.” Her tentative smile warmed his heart and stirred ...other parts, till he excused himself for a long run down the beach, leaving her to anticipate the coming night.
***
Sweat-slicked bodies fell back onto the moonlit bed, damp hair fanning across pillows, breaths huffing in tandem after the sexual workout they’d just put themselves through. Eyes toward the ceiling, arm across his forehead, Shane spoke between inhales.
“Damn! This research thing is getting really intense! I’m discovering more and more information the deeper I go, yet there’s still so much to learn—Hey!” One of the pillows smacked into his face as his “research” reared up on her forearms, expression mildly outraged. Exaggerated innocence plastered across his face, Shane made to forestall her speech when a small sound from the newly purchased baby monitor plugged in on Emily’s dresser froze both adults. Two sets of eyes met, breaths held, until settling- in noises emitted from the monitor, and then blessed silence.
Exhaling in relief, Emily rose, tying on her terrycloth mommy robe over her nude body and padding over to the open slider. She gazed out on the smooth ocean under a cloud-scudded sky, cooling her heated skin with the ocean breeze wafting in. Rustles from the bed alerted Emily that Shane rose also, though he paused to slip on boxers before stopping behind her, placing warm hands upon her shoulders and resting his chin atop her curl-covered head.
Reflexively, Emily leaned back into his body, reveling in his heat and strength while enjoying the humor he brought to every situation. Yet now he appeared serious as he queried lowly, “Penny for your thoughts?”
Half turning her head to lay a kiss upon his knuckles, Emily replied lazily, “Just thinking about all this.”
“This being--?” He turned her to face him, and Emily looked up into Shane’s chocolaty eyes, losing herself momentarily in the depth of emotion she saw within.
“Us. It’s happened so fast, yet,” she struggled for the right words, eyes still focused on his, “it feels, I don’t know, right, somehow. I mean, I always thought I’d mourn Darrell forever, I’d be betraying him otherwise, but I guess it’s time for me to move on. Not forget him, I could never do that, but find some happiness for myself. And you bring me a lot of happiness, Shane,” she finished quickly, now looking down, embarrassed by her words, but relieved they were out in the open.
Crouching slightly, Shane managed to snare her gaze as he replied, “I’ve been a loner most of my life, Em. It’s the perils of being a writer and only child. I’ve had strings of female companions, but my thoughts and writing make me difficult to live with. I’m in my head more than I’m in the real world, and a woman demands a lot of attention.” At her huff he shrugged with a lopsided grin.
“But with you, I have to fight the kids to get your attention, and I kinda like that. It gets me off my ass and out of my head, trying to get into your head. And other places,” he added offhandedly, earning a smack on the arm.
“It’s true! I’ve never had to work this hard to get a woman! Makes the getting that much better, though. I guess what I’m trying to say is, you make me happy too, Mrs. Wakeland.” Leaning forward, taking her face between his hands, Shane pressed a gentle, chaste kiss upon Emily’s lips, moving slowly, leisurely, tasting her, testing himself. She returned the gesture, tilting her head slightly to cover his lips with her own.
Feeling himself responding to this oddly erotic kiss, Shane leaned back, asking hoarsely, “While most of my blood is still in my brain, sweetheart, I have a suggestion for you.”
Hands splayed on his warm chest, Emily raised cloudy eyes to his, trying to follow the thread of conversation.
“Suggestion? I don’t know if I like the sound of that!” She said cautiously, and Shane patted her robe-clad bottom, replying,
“Nothing bad. No, I have my neighbors’ retirement party to go to on Saturday, and I wanted us to go as a couple. They have great food, okay music, and, well, I want you with me. Say yes?”
Emily stepped back, shaking her head.
“No. I’m your housekeeper, and they know it.—“
“So, when they ask you to pass out appetizers, we’ll tell them you’re off the clock!” Shane said brightly, trying to pull her to him.
“Stop it! I don’t belong in your crowd. You’re Saks Fifth Avenue, I’m Wal Mart.”
“I shop at Wal Mart. Everyone shops at Wal Mart.” Still no success at pulling her into his arms.
“You know what I mean. You hang out with millionaires, and I wash your floors.”
Her eyes flashed, even as he quipped, “Okay, so we’ll tell them up front that you clean my house and I clean your—“
“Be serious, Shane! My little black dress is ten years old! I can’t go to a cocktail party in J.C. Penney couture!”
Shane pinched the bridge of his nose, really at a loss in this argument. But apparently Emily felt insignificant compared to him and his neighbors, so he tried to reach her sensibly.
“Sweetheart, I don’t give a flying f—whatever! what you wear or don’t wear! I want you with me because I’m proud to have you with me. But if you feel your clothes are inadequate, go splurge on a new dress. As I’ve said before, I know I pay you well. But don’t think you’re worth less than me and my ilk because we have lots of money. We’re not worthy enough to wipe your shoes, or your kids’ shoes. Just, please, come with me?”
Emily stared up into Shane’s emotion-charged face, and her own expression softened as she replayed his speech in her head. Yes, it would be difficult to fit in at next Saturday’s party, but how could she refuse such a heartfelt plea? Closing her eyes, she nodded fractionally.
“Okay, you win. But don’t you dare introduce me as your housekeeper!”
“Gotcha. Only my concubine.”
Her mouth dropped open, and he swooped in for a kiss, wet and demanding, even as his hands slipped under the collar of her robe and slid it off her shoulders to puddle on the floor, leaving her gloriously naked in the moonlight. Bending, he took the tip of one of her breasts into his mouth, feeling Emily shudder as her head dropped backwards. Releasing her breast, Shane slowly dropped to his knees, leaving damp kisses on her abdomen while heading south, warm hands on her bottom, pressing her closer to him, intent on worshipping every inch of her deliciously bare body.
He did.