Episode 499: Love Like ThisSeated on the edge of her turned-down bed, Michael performed her usual pre-bed rituals. She uncoiled the bun at her nape and reached for the brush on the nightstand, running it over her long hair. Kinks worked through, she pumped vanilla scented lotion into her palms, massaging a long day of texting and emailing from her stiff, cramped, fingers. With another dollop, she kneaded her feet, and then smoothed her hands up her calves, and over her knees, pushing aside her terrycloth robe as she went.
"Need some help?" His far too male, far too enticing voice asked. "Thighs can be a tricky area, Iíd be happy to-"
"I just bet you would," she snapped, vigorously moisturizing, determined not to stop, hearing him was more than enough, then there was smelling him, all shower fresh. Yeah, she didnít need to see him, too. "Donít even think about touching me if you value the use of your hands."
"Almost as much as you do."
"Youíre such an arrogant, manipulative-"
"You married me."
"That was then, this is the now where youíre never touching me again." As long as she didnít let him. Didnít fall right into his trap. "Sorry, but in case you havenít noticed the past few weeks youíve been sleeping on the floor, this isnít going to work out the way you schemed."
"I didnít just jump at sharing our bedroom again for sex. I miss you. I want to be close to you, like we used to be. I want us to have this baby."
Curran nearly had her with that bedroom voice pledging a desire for her that went beyond naked, but that last bit made her scoff. "Please, you donít care one wit about becoming a parent, I had to drag you kicking and screaming towards-" Sheíd lifted her head. Huge mistake. Her thinking, her conviction, was ever so much clearer without his shower damp hair, slicked back, emphasizing his cut-glass cheekbones, and a mouth designed for fulfilling fantasies. Without actually seeing his eyes running over her the way she longed for his hands. Without any barriers between her fingertips and his drool-inducing, brain-cramping chest.
"Put your shirt on," she demanded, wrapping an arm tight around her robe.
He grinned, took another step closer, and rubbed a hand over his annoyingly impressive abdomen. "Youíre my wife. Now that I think about it, pants arenít even really necessary."
"I may be your wife, but weíre not married in any way that-" A knock interrupted. Her heart clutched. Lucy! What if she heard? What if that decided her mind about giving them the baby?