Mom stayed with us for about an hour, mostly because she was worried about Ian. I can’t blame her because I was, too. After Ian settled down, she left, and Ian and I watched a movie in the living room, with the babies close by, still sleeping.
They woke up right as the movie ended, and we made bottles and fed them as we sat side by side on the sofa. Ian held Lizzie in his arms, and I fed Will. I watched as he gently traced her features, skimming his index finger across her forehead, along her tiny dark eyebrows, down her little nose.
He doesn’t say it, but I know he’s still thinking about how close we came to disaster tonight. It’s weighing heavily on me, too. What if I hadn’t reacted fast enough? What if Ian had hit his head on the brick wall and sustained a potentially life-threatening head injury?
So manywhat ifs.
After the babies are done eating, we carry them upstairs to our bedroom to change diapers and put them in their sleepers. Then we put them in bed with us for a while, for some quality family time, as Ian calls it.
We lay them side by side on the mattress between us and watch them interact with each other until they become drowsy and have trouble keeping their eyes open.
By this time, Ian is much more himself, clearly more relaxed, and finally smiling again, especially when he coos at the kids.
“All right,” I finally say. “Bedtime for these two.” I hate being the one who has to put an end to the party, but it’s getting late, and the babies are falling asleep. And God knows Ian needs sleep, too.
We swaddle them and tuck them into their bassinettes.
“Ready for bed?” I ask Ian as we watch our babies drift off to sleep. He doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to move from his spot beside the cradles.
He turns to me. “Take me upstairs, Tyler. Please.”
What he means is he wants me to take him up to the greenhouse, to our bed beneath the stars, and make love to him. He wants sex—he wants penetration. And I know why. He wants that overwhelming connection, both emotional and physical, between us. He wants to feel that sense of submission. He needs to feel my dominance over him.
I lean in to kiss him. “All right.”
He nods, and then heads for the bathroom. “I’ll meet you upstairs.”
While Ian showers, I take a quick shower myself in the hall bathroom. Then I pull on a pair of black boxer shorts and head up to the greenhouse to set the mood. I light a dozen candles and pull down the bedding. I grab two tumblers from a small cabinet and a bottle of Glenfiddich. After the evening he’s had, I think a little whiskey might help settle him.
“Hey.”
I turn at the sound of Ian’s voice to find him standing just inside the greenhouse, gloriously naked and aroused. His hair is damp from his shower, his curls finger combed. He looks so beautiful and so lost it makes my chest ache.
Immediately, my pulse kicks up and my body responds, my growing erection tenting the front of my underwear. I hold out my hand to him, and he comes straight to me and wraps his arms around my waist. His skin is warm and damp from his shower, and he smells so good.
“I need you.” His voice is muffled against my shoulder.
“I know.” I cup the back of his head. “I need you, too.” I kiss him then, at first gently, and then hunger takes over both of us.
I run my hands down his arms, and then back up his sides to his chest. I brush his nipples with my thumbs, and he shivers.
When Ian grabs one of my hands and lowers it to his straining erection, I wrap my fingers around him, giving him the tight grip he loves. Moaning, he presses his face against my throat and kisses my pulse point.
I ease him down so that he’s sitting on the edge of the bed. Then I grab the two tumblers off the sideboard and hand him one. “To us,” I say, holding out my glass. “For coming out of a bad situation unscathed.”
Ian touches his glass to mine. “To close calls.”
His eyes look haunted, which tells me he’s not over the shock. Ian knocks back his liquor in one go, coughing as it burns his throat.
“You really should sip that, you know.” I take a biting sip. “It’s too good to waste.”
He gives me a wry grin. “It’s warming my belly, so I’d say it wasn’t wasted.”
I finish my drink, and then return our glasses to the sideboard.
Before I reach the bed, I lose my boxers, dropping them onto the floor. As Ian scoots over and lies on his back, I crawl to him, caging him in, looming over him.
He gazes up at me with so much love and trust in his eyes, it’s humbling. He has no idea how desirable he is, how much I want him.Crave him.