The days blurred together under the constant Pacific Northwest drizzle, but the tension in the house on Maple Lane only sharpened. Three weeks. That was how long we had before Amina brought Noah home for the weekend. The name alone had become a trigger for Elias — a spark that turned every touch into something urgent and possessive.
He woke me before the sun had properly risen, his body already curved tightly around mine from behind. One hand rested low on my stomach, the other slipped between my thighs, pushing the evidence of last night deeper inside me as he pressed his hardness against my a*s.
“Three weeks,” he murmured hotly against my neck, voice rough with sleep and hunger. “In three weeks my daughter is bringing some college boy named Noah into our home. While I’ve been filling y
