Page 158 of Things We Burn

My entire body relaxed, as did Mabel’s, but that could’ve been out of sheer exhaustion from crying every moment Kane was gone.

He sauntered through the door, anger still hardening his face until he saw our daughter. He took her from my arms wordlessly.

“She eaten?” he asked, his voice void of emotion.

That flat tone hurt me, but I deserved it.

I nodded.

“She slept?”

“Not a wink.”

“Okay, let’s get you to bed, little one,” he murmured, kissing Mabel’s head. Before leaving, he looked at me. “I love you, Chef. Still need time, but we’ll talk later. Then we’ll have angry makeup sex.”

On that, he turned and ascended the stairs with our baby.

“Are we going to talk?” I asked in a whisper, mindful of Mabel sleeping in the bassinet beside us. She’d grown accustomed to the noises of us getting ready for bed, but it was a crapshoot as to whether a whisper would wake her or she’d sleep through me dropping an entire glass of water on the floor. No rhyme or reason.

We’d gone about our routine after Mabel woke up from her last nap—changing her, entertaining her, me cooking while Kane walked with her out on the beach. Us sitting together taking turns holding a crying Mabel, me ending up breastfeeding her at the table while eating my meal one handed, quickly, barely tasting the food.

Then dishes, then bathtime with the calming music, massage and Mabel screaming on and off throughout the routine.

Then her bedtime.

Routine. A variation of the same every day. With Mabel keeping it interesting as to whether she treated us with dazzling smiles or informed us how pissed off she was with the routine or life in general.

It was why I was worried, terrified, of the future.

“Nah,” said Kane. “I’d rather fuck you.”

My insides somersaulted as I looked at his face, seeing naked hunger on it. All of the desire he used to look at me with was there, and more.

Suddenly, my heart was stuttering, and fear cinched my lungs.

I glanced over to where Mabel was sleeping, arms thrown up above her head.

“With the baby in the room?” I whispered.

He let out a low chuckle, yet it was sexual too. “Yes, Chef. Hopefully, she’s out for the count, and considering that’s how we made her, I don’t think she’ll mind.”

Though I had thought about sex often since Mabel was born, I hadn’t thought much about the reality of having sex in front of her. Granted, she was sleeping and had no idea what sex was, but still.

Before I could contemplate further, Kane’s lips were on my neck, hands on my hips, slowly moving me across the bed, away from Mabel while covering my body with his. The simple weight of his body on top of mine, his erection pressing against me was all I needed to remember that my body was more than a machine that created breast milk.

“I haven’t tried to fuck you, Chef because I’ve been waiting for you to come to me,” he murmured against my neck.

His hands ran down the sides of my body, making me shiver.

“You’ve gone through a change that I can’t begin to understand,” his hands continued moving up and down. Soft, tentative.

“Your entire life has been consumed by the needs of another human for the past four months,” he added, lips traveling up my jaw. “I didn’t want to be another person you felt you needed to give more to.”

He pulled back so I could see his face in the low light from the sound machine.

“I never thought you would equate that to me not desirin’ you.” His lips gently pressed on mine, his hands gliding underneath the hem of my tee to skim the bare skin of my hips then my stomach.

I tensed, knowing that that area was forever changed.

---