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way she smelt. So sweet. Like roses after summer rain. He nuzzled her skin, inhaling her scent, loving the softness against his own skin. His mouth trailed down her neck, down to her collarbone. He dipped his tongue into the hollows, and he felt her body arch against him. So she liked that. Good. He did, too. Smiling, he traced a line between her breasts with the tip of his nose, and heard her murmur agreement.

      This was without doubt the best dream he’d ever had. So real. Everything he’d always wanted: Saskia making love with him. Her hands in his hair, fisting there when he opened his mouth over her nipple and sucked.

      She was so responsive. Pushing against him, demanding that he pay attention to her other breast. In a decent dream he’d have super-powers and would have been able to do everything he wanted at once. He’d be able to kiss her all over at the same time, a riot of taste and textures under his mouth.

      Now she was lying beneath him, on her back. He needed to know what was going on in her head. Did she feel the same way, or was he deluding himself? Maybe it would be easier not to know. But in the end he opened his eyes and looked at her. She was smiling. Inviting. And in her eyes he could see passion. Need. Love. Everything he’d always wanted.

      He kissed her again, murmured against her skin. ‘Saskia. You’re so beautiful.’ The most beautiful woman in the world.

      And, since this was a dream, he could tell her he loved—

      No. This wasn’t a dream. She was really there, in bed with him. Kissing him back, tilting her hips under his, her body inviting him to remove the rest of her pyjamas and sink into the ultimate closeness.

      This was such a stupid idea. Once they had sex, it would be over between them. For good.

      But he’d had thirteen years of waiting. He just couldn’t wait for her any more. He needed her. Right now. Slowly, he splayed one hand against her midriff. She shivered, so he let his fingers drift under the waistband of her pyjama bottoms. Peeled them off. Rocked back on his haunches and looked at her.

      He sucked in a breath. She was beautiful. More beautiful than he’d dreamed even. And his hands were actually shaking as he stroked her inner thighs. He wanted to touch her, taste her. Lose himself inside her.

      But he had to be sure. He wasn’t going to force her into anything. ‘Saskia. We can stop now, if you want to,’ he told her softly.

      ‘No, we damned well can’t.’ Her hands were shaking as she removed his pyjama bottoms, stroked his buttocks, and her voice was husky with need. ‘Touch me, Toby. Love me.’ She offered her mouth to him.

      There was something in her expression he couldn’t read—was she crying? Or was it just that she needed him as much as he needed her, felt that same desperate craving that only one special person could satisfy? He bent his head to kiss her mouth, then slowly moved downwards. He took his time, rubbing his face against the softness of her skin, flicking his tongue around her nipples until she gasped and plunged her fingers back into his hair, pulling him closer.

      Closer. He slid one hand between her legs and cupped her. Oh, God, he’d wanted this for so long. The heat, the soft silkiness. All he had to do was move. Nudge his thigh between hers. Let those long, long legs wrap around his waist and pull them both into paradise.

      ‘Oh, Saskia,’ he breathed, slipping one finger inside her. She was warm and wet and so very ready for him.

      ‘Yes. Yes, Toby, yes,’ she moaned, arching up against him.

      He’d just shifted between her thighs, ready to enter her, when he heard a loud bang.

      Half a second later, he realised what the sound was. The bedroom door slamming against the wall. Billy. Instantly, Toby dragged the covers over himself and Saskia.

      ‘Uncle Toby, is it time to get up?’ Billy asked chirpily.

      ‘Uh, nearly.’ He could barely string the words together, shocked by how close they’d been to getting caught.

      ‘What are you doing?’ Billy asked.

      Uh-oh. This was definitely a question he didn’t want to answer. ‘Tickling each other.’ Please, please, let the little boy accept that. He definitely didn’t want to do a birds-and-bees explanation. Not now. ‘Can you be a really big boy and go and get dressed?’

      ‘OK,’ Billy agreed happily, and left the room.

      Toby flopped back against his pillow and looked at Saskia. ‘Um. So this is what it feels like to be a parent.’

      ‘It probably—’

      ‘Shh.’ He put one finger over her lips. ‘We’ll discuss it later.’ Unable to resist, he rubbed his thumb over her lower lip. His vision almost blurred with desire. Hell, so near and yet… ‘Later,’ he croaked. If he stayed next to her for one second longer, he’d forget where he was and continue exactly where they’d left off.

      Sometimes life was a bitch.

      And sometimes it promised to fulfil all his dreams. He’d waited so long. What difference would a few more hours make? He leaned over to kiss her lightly. ‘Later,’ he said softly, pulled his pyjama bottoms on again and went to check on what Billy was doing.

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