Free When a Man Loves a Woman (Indigo) by LaConnie Taylor-Jones

on her blouse, then another. “Baby, tell me something.”
    She stared at his hands for what seemed like a lifetime. This was crazy, she was insane, and he was nuts. From the time of the accident, she’d promised to stay with him and do whatever needed to be done—no matter how long it took—until he recuperated. Nothing more. Their eyes met, hers dilated with desire and need, his narrow and burning. It was her undoing. Like always, his kiss, his touch opened a floodgate of longing, and before she knew it, she’d placed her hand atop his, imploring him to continue.
    Unbuttoning the blouse all the way, he released the front clasp of her bra, burying his face in the space between her lush breasts, inhaling. “God, you smell good.” Nuzzling his mouth across one breast, he drew a swollen nipple inside and sucked hard.
    “Baptiste,” she moaned in ecstasy.
    “Yes, mon amour ,” he whispered roughly. He loved the thin, pleading way her husky voice called out to him, something she only did in the throes of passion.
    She whimpered softly into his mouth. “We can’t. The girls might—”
    “You want more?” he rasped, the words coming from deep in his throat. He took her hand and moved it between them to where his erection strained against his pajama bottom.
    She softly moaned, stunned at how passion always managed to detonate whenever they where together. “More…”
    He pleasured the other nipple with the same adoration.
    Her body quivered, and a second later she tried desperately to control the pounding inside her chest. Her hand explored the length of his arousal. It was useless to try and resist this man any longer. The need to be released from an eight-year-long hiatus had her body bubbling with anticipation. Large, strong hands palmed her face, and her mouth was devoured once more with a kiss that produced sheer delirium.
    He caught his breath and groaned. No words could ever describe how he loved his woman. He needed to show her. “Go lock the door.”
    “Honey, where you?” Tyler called out from her bedroom down the hall.
    Vic quickly pulled back and stared at A.J. before her eyes went to the door.
    “Oh, Jesus.” Vic scooted away from A.J. “Uh…T-Two, wait right there, baby.” She turned her back to Baptiste, nervously fumbling to right her clothes.
    “Gotta feed Harry and Sally, Honey,” Tyler advised.
    “Okay, sweetheart. Honey’s coming.”
    “Turn around, woman,” A.J. said, chuckling as he scooted toward her. He made a tsking sound, brushing her hands away to take over the task at which she was failing miserably. “You’re doing it wrong, anyway. Didn’t Louise teach you how to dress yourself?”
    “Hush, Baptiste.”
    His brows bunched together as he wondered why the girls were still up. It was well past eight, and they were usually asleep by seven-thirty. “Who are Harry and Sally?”
    “The newest members of the family. I brought them two goldfish this afternoon.”
    “Honey?” Taylor called out this time.
    A.J. sighed. “T-One, is it an emergency?”
    Taylor shouted back. “What’s ’mergency, Daddy?” When she didn’t get an immediate response, she hollered, “That Honey’s new name?”
    “Honey will be right there,” he broke off and chuckled before adding, “and you, young lady, should be asleep. You too, T-Two.”
    “Honey gotta help feed ’em, Daddy,” Taylor countered.
    “I’m coming, pumpkin,” Vic said tensely over her shoulder and swatted Baptiste’s hand away as it inched upward to button her blouse.
    “Wait.” He pulled her back to him and swiped her mouth with a kiss. “This discussion isn’t over.”
    She nodded and hurried out.
    * * *
    Thirty minutes later, A.J. stood at the threshold of Taylor and Tyler’s bedroom watching Vic softly sing a lullaby to them as they finally drifted off to sleep. He turned and eased down the hallway, angry with himself. His plan to win Vic’s heart had veered off course earlier. Now wasn’t the time for