I adore dancing, especially with him. We slide out of the booth and make our way down to the seething mass of bodies. The song is one from the 90s, an era I wasn’t around for, though I’ve heard it enough to know some of the words. I slink between people, leading him to the center of the floor.
A hand lands on my arm. Gentle. Firm. Lorcan spins me into his arms. We swayed in time with the music.
“Good birthday?”
“I’m still wondering what’s in store for me later.” Sliding my hand down his chest, I patted the pocket he tucked the blindfold into. Lorcan’s hand glided down the smooth silk of my gown.
“And I’m wondering what this is.” He traced the outline of the new lingerie I’m wearing. The nice thing about bits of lace and silk is how easy they are to conceal in your luggage.
“Something I picked up in Paris.” I tapped his lower lip with my forefinger.
A flash burst nearby. We glanced over, saw Arya snapping pictures, and shrugged. She knows when to catch us at our best, and when to leave us alone. Her photographs are PR gold.
My lips brush against the rim of his ear. “What’s in store for me, Lorcan?”
His arm tightens around my waist. “Thirty years old.”
“Yes? And?”
He palmed my ass. “I’m going to make you come once for each year.”
A tremor wracked me.
“That’ll take you a while. Better get started, don’t you think?”
Lorcan’s chuckle vibrated through me. He might get one or two on the way back to our hotel.
“We can go now, if you want to, Princess.”
He might get one before we get back to the car.
As much as we miss our children when we’re away, it’s nice not to hear the pad of little feet coming to our bed. It turns out that we are terribly lenient parents. Often, we wind up with two or three small bodies wedged between us. It’ll be nice to get back, but...
Tonight is for freedom. For us. Together.
THE END
