“If we’re talking percentages, you’re basically asking me to live on a starvation diet while you’re feasting at a buffet,” I said, pulling Lauren against me. I let my hand slide down the curve of her hip, squeezing the firm flesh of her backside with a possessive grip. I could feel the heat radiating off her, and God, the smell of her skin, like vanilla and something sharp, something electric, was driving me insane. I wanted her right here, on the kitchen island, with her legs wrapped around my waist and her breath hitching in my ear.

Lauren laughed, a melodic sound that only made me want to devour her more, but she gently pushed my hand away. “Greg, honey, three or four times a week is a healthy, sustainable pace. Getting you off twice a day is a full-time job. I’m exhausted just thinking about it!” She leaned back, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of amusement and genuine fatigue.

I groaned, pressing my forehead against hers. “But I’m a growing boy with needs, babe. I’m practically starving for pussy and boobs.”

Inconveniently, the swinging door to the kitchen creaked open. Olivia trotted in, the cute redhaired teen’s mismatched socks sliding across the hardwood. She stopped dead, looking at us with that wide-eyed, unnervingly observant stare she’d inherited from her mother. “Why are you hugging so weird?” she asked, tilting her head.

Lauren didn’t let go of me, but she shifted her gaze to her daughter, her voice softening. “Well, sweetie, Greg and I were just talking about the future. After we get married next month, we’re thinking about having a baby. That means you’d have a little brother or sister.”

Olivia’s expression shifted instantly from curiosity to a look of sheer, focused horror. She crossed her small arms over her chest and frowned. “No! No way! I don’t want a baby! I want to be the only one. If there’s another kid, you guys have to share the love and the presents, and that’s not fair!”

I chuckled, the sound vibrating deep in my chest, while my mind was still stubbornly fixed on the friction of Lauren’s thighs against mine. The conversation about progeny was a distraction from the immediate, pulsing urgency in my gut. “We’ll talk about it later, Liv,” I said, my voice a bit too husky to be casual. “Right now, some grown-up has to go make some money so you can keep buying those expensive collector dolls, and weirdly colored socks.”

I didn’t let her answer. I stepped back just enough to wrap my arms around Lauren, pulling her into a kiss that was far too hungry for a Tuesday morning. It wasn’t a ‘goodbye’ kiss; it was a claim. I tasted the mint of her toothpaste and the lingering heat of her skin, my tongue tracing the seam of her lips with a deliberate, slow pressure. For a second, I felt her melt, her breath hitching in a way that told me she wasn’t as ‘exhausted’ as she claimed to be.

Suddenly, a loud, theatrical “Ewwwww!” erupted. Olivia was scrubbing her eyes with her fists, acting out a scene of extreme disgust. Lauren broke the kiss, laughing and breathless, her cheeks flushed a deep, inviting crimson. “Go! Get out of here!” Lauren giggled, giving me a playful shove toward the door. “See you tonight.”

“Love you. Have a nice day.” As I walked toward the car, my mind was already mapping out the friction of the evening. I could still feel the phantom pressure of Lauren’s body against mine, the way her scent clung to my shirt like a challenge. I drove to the office in a state of semi-conscious agitation, my focus entirely on getting her back in bed the second I stepped through the door.

Meanwhile, the kitchen had returned to its domestic stillness, though the air still felt charged. Lauren leaned against the counter, letting out a long, shuddering breath that she’d been holding since the moment Greg’s lips left hers. She looked at Olivia, who was still making a face of profound disgust, though the curiosity was starting to override the “eww” factor.

“Mom?” Olivia asked, her voice suddenly small and inquisitive. “How do babies start? How do they get in a girl’s belly?”

Lauren froze. She looked at the clock, then at her daughter, realizing there was no way to dodge the important conversation. She took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice neutral despite the lingering heat in her own belly. “Well, honey ... it’s a bit complicated. You see, men have something called sperm, and the slit, the hole between a woman’s legs is called a vagina. When a man and a woman love each other very much, and they want to make a baby, the man puts his sperm in her vagina. Then, that little bit of sperm swims to find a tiny egg, and if they meet, they start to grow into a baby.”