Page 17 of Daddy Detectives: Episode 1
But I can’t shake this guilty feeling. “I just don’t want you to think this time off for us as a family isn’t important to me, because it is. I want to do my share, not leave you here handling everything alone.”
“Oh, my God, stop it! I love you so much.” Ian lays Lizzie on the bed next to her brother and then he pulls me to my feet. “Stop being so amazing and kiss me.”
It’s a bit surreal standing on the roof of the building with the night sky overhead. We can see the stars through the greenhouse roof. The lake is off to the east, moonlight rippling on the glassy surface of the water.
“Dance with me,” Ian says as he grabs his phone and pulls up our wedding playlist. He connects his phone to the speaker system we have up here, and soon the plaintive notes ofMake You Feel My Loveby Adele start playing. Ian wraps his arms around my neck. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” I tighten my hold around his waist and pull him against me. We move slowly to the music, letting the poignant words surround us. I cup the back of his head, and he groans when I claim his mouth.
When the song ends, we take the babies downstairs to give them their bedtime bottles. Then we tuck them in their bassinettes.
I reach for Ian’s hand. “Come back up to the roof with me. I want you under the stars.”
When I first met Ian, and he showed me the greenhouse on the roof, I realized immediately thatthiswas his happy place. He suffers from claustrophobia as a result of the abuse he sufferedas a young child. Up on the roof, in the greenhouse with its glass walls and high ceiling, he revels in the openness.
As a surprise for him, I arranged to have a king-size bed brought up here so he could sleep up here beneath the stars. It’s always been one of our favorite places to sleep and to have sex. With all the foliage in the greenhouse, it’s private enough. None of our neighbors in adjacent buildings can see inside.
“I really need a shower first,” he says, giving me a pouting smile.
Ian slips into our bathroom and, a moment later, I hear the shower running. The temptation to join him is too good to pass up, so I strip naked and walk into the bathroom. He’s already in the process of washing his hair.
“Mind if I join you?” I ask.
Ian grins. “Please.”
I step into the walk-in shower, come up behind him, and slide my fingers into his sudsy hair. He drops his arms, relaxing his shoulders, and I massage the shampoo into his hair.
“Oh, God, that feels so good,” he says with a groan.
After I rinse his hair, I squirt some of his favorite body wash into my hands. Then I start at his neck, massaging it and then his shoulders, smiling when he practically melts beneath my touch. I slide my hands down his arms, and then run my hands up his chest.
He leans back against me and shivers when I focus my attention on his nipples.
Finally, the best part of all—I slip my hands down his torso and wrap the fingers of one hand around him. He’s already half-hard, and it doesn’t take long before I have a full-fledged erection in my grasp.
As I stroke him slowly from root to tip, he leans his head back against my shoulder. His breaths come fast and hard, his chest heaving. Before long, he’s close to coming, so I back off.
Ian groans in frustration.
I smile. “I want you coming in my mouth, not in the shower.”
His knees practically give out, and I support him with one arm wrapped around his waist while I shut off the water. I grab a thick, clean towel and quickly dry him, then myself, and then I take his hand and lead him out of our bedroom and up the stairs to the greenhouse.
He follows me without a single word of complaint, stopping only to turn on the baby monitor. I steer him backward until the back of his legs meet the mattress. As I push him down onto the bed, I smile when I see the heat and anticipation in his eyes.
Chapter 7 – Ian
My husband turns me on. I mean hereallyturns me on. He’s gruff and dominant, and he thinks I need to be coddled—andI love it. We’re heading up to the greenhouse for some quality alone time because our babies are sound asleep in their bassinettes in our bedroom—and we don’t feel comfortable doing grown-up stuff in the same room, even when they’re sleeping. So, since the babies were born, we’ve been sneaking up to the roof for hanky-panky. And that suits me just fine because I love making out with my man beneath the twinkling stars in the inky night sky.
After he steers me to lie down in the center of our bed, Tyler kneels on the bed and looms over me, his muscular arms caging me in, his big hands resting on the mattress, one on each side of my head. As he leans down to kiss me, my breath catches and my belly quivers. I run my palms over his firm pecs, then slide them up and over his broad shoulders to slip them around his neck.
When I think about how much I love this man, and when I think about how freaking lucky I am that he loves me back, my throat tightens. And to think, what were the odds that I would meet him one dark night on the dock beside my yacht? How was it thathewas the homicide detective who was assigned to investigate Eric’s murder that night? It could have been any number of detectives assigned to the case, but it wasn’t. It was Tyler.
He’s watching me with a curious expression. “Are you overthinking again?” His voice is low and laced with amusement.
He knows me so well. “Yes.”
His lips travel up the side of my neck. “About what?”
