Free Now Is Our Time by Jo Kessel

bottom next to his chest and leaning over to kiss him. Her full, plump lips were deliciously warm.
     
    “Mm,” he moaned, leaning up to hook his arms around her neck and pull her towards him. She tasted of sugar. He grabbed her by the hips, repositioning her so she was lying flush on top of him, placing his hands at the base of her butt, tickling her skin underneath the frilly hem of her skimpy shorts.
     
    “Be careful not to start something you can’t finish,” she smirked, planting a hand on the pillow on either side of his head for balance. “Miriam’s downstairs and I don’t want her getting suspicious.”
     
    “What’s that?” he asked, nodding towards the contents loosely clasped in her left hand.
     
    “That,” Claire kissed him hard before pulling away, “is your freshly laundered underwear. I’ve been up since six o’clock. Miriam was singing in her bedroom and I decided to go to her before she came to find me here with you. I’ve already done two wash loads and made breakfast. We’re waiting for you to join us.”        
     
    Thankfully Claire’s panic about what would happen if Miriam came to find her in the middle of the night clearly hadn’t happened and Jonah was happy to play this however Claire deemed fit. Children complicated matters and everything needed to be handled with sensitivity. It was too soon for Miriam to think he was anything more than a friend and he didn’t want to place Claire in a compromised position. He smacked her ass playfully.
     
    “Thank you for doing my laundry, pretty washerwoman.”
     
    “Is that how you see me?” she feigned mock objection.
     
    “Yes, but let me tell you, you are the prettiest washerwoman I have ever seen. Do washerwomen always wear such indecently hot clothes to do the washing? Go cover yourself up or I’m in danger of having an all-day-long hard-on. And that would not look good in front of your daughter.”
     
    “You need to control yourself,” Claire teased, removing one of her hands from the pillow to feel the full length of his hardness through the thin cotton sheet separating them.
     
    “What time is it?” he said, capturing and removing her hand before she could do any more damage.
     
    Her brow furrowed anxiously.
     
    “It’s a quarter to ten,” she started, worriedly. “I wasn’t meant to wake you, was I? It’s Saturday, and I just didn -
     
    “Don’t worry,” he reassured her. “I’ve a day off. It’s fine. And wow, that’s the best lie-in I’ve had in ages. I think jet lag must have finally caught up with me.”
     
    Jonah could feel Claire starting to wriggle off him. He gripped her hips to momentarily still her.
     
    “Last night was amazing, washerwoman,” he said, punctuating this thought by kissing her lightly.
     
    “Yes,” she said, tapping his nose, before covering his face with his clean Calvin Klein boxers. “It really was.”
                                   -----------------------
     
    Jonah could count on one hand the number of times he’d ever allowed nerves to truly worm into his bones and psyche. Once had been when Claire had delivered her ‘I think we should take a break’ speech. Another time had been when his wife had given birth to Martha, who had been born blue. Thankfully the doctors successfully resuscitated her and she’d been fine. Two matches had professionally unnerved him more than any of the others - the quarter final against Federer in Melbourne was one and the second was a game against Agassi in the US Open. It had been his first appearance on the main show court at Flushing Meadow and the occasion had got to him as, eventually, had Andre’s masterful playing. But all these moments had been life-changing and monumental. They all made much more sense than him feeling nervous right here, right now, as he sat down to eat breakfast with Miriam and Claire. He didn’t want to screw anything up. He wanted, more than anything, for