Chapter 19: Tonight

He crossed the kitchen in three steps, and I met him halfway.

His mouth came down on mine, hard, and the six weeks of waiting went out of both of us at once.

I pulled his shirt out of his jeans and got my hands on his bare back.

He groaned into my mouth, and the sound went straight down my body.

"Table," he said against my lips.

"You said the table."

"I said the table."

He lifted me by the backs of my thighs and set me on the edge of the old oak.

It was cold through my leggings, and I didn't care.

He stood between my knees and pulled my sweater up over my head.

He dropped it on the floor.

I wore the ugly nursing bra, the gray one with the clasp at the front.

I started to cover it with my arm, and he caught my wrist and held it away.

"No," he said. "Look at me."

I looked.

His eyes were dark and wide in the stove light, and he was breathing hard.

"I've thought about this since the night you handed me a bottle and fell asleep on my shoulder," he said. "You think I care what you're wearing?"

"I have a stomach now."

"I know. I want to put my mouth on it."

He opened the clasp with one thumb.

He took me in his hands, and his hands were rough and so careful that I made a noise I didn't know I had.

Then he bent his head and took my nipple in his mouth, and I grabbed his hair.

He sucked, slow and deep, and my back came off the table.

"Byron."

He moved to the other one, and his beard dragged over my skin.

I wanted him everywhere at once.

He kissed down the center of me, over the soft round of my stomach.

He stopped there and pressed his open mouth to the silver stretch marks the baby had left along my side.

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