Matteo let the steaming spray cascade over his head and shoulders. He was wired, full of adrenaline and angst, his thoughts shuttling between his desperate need to fuck his wife and their brush with death at the restaurant.

If they were being deliberately targeted, then whomever was after them likely knew where they were staying, too.

Yet the hotel room had been untouched, the telltale hair he’d put on the top of the door hinge still in place. No one had been here while they were gone.

He could relax, be less vigilant, at least for now. Tomorrow they would be back in the car, little more than a moving target for anyone who wanted to hurt them.

This sham of a marriage was going to be the death of him. His restraint could only take so much before it would tear like a tendon that was pulled too far. His cock was standing tall and rigid in the spray of water.

It was his fault for encouraging her, for taking her to dinner and giving her champagne. Hell, he’d been encouraging himself, too. He knew all too well that he wanted her and only the slightest temptation would find him caught between desire and his own morality.

He picked up the soap and unwrapped it, tossing the paper over the curtain to the floor before scrubbing his body with punishing strokes.

He wanted her in here with him, her hot, wet mouth open beneath his as he pushed her against the tile wall.

Put a thousand men in this position and nine hundred and seventy-five of them would be a hell of a lot happier than he was right now.

So kiss her.

You don’t have to have sex.

Just kiss her.

His cock was throbbing and he squeezed himself tightly. He wouldn’t be able to stop if she was willing, wouldn’t be able to control this desperate need to be inside her if she was begging him for just that.

He pulled on his cock, imagining her beneath him, his excitement needing no more encouragement than that visual provided. He pumped once into his fisted hand, desperate for the release that could free his mind from this damned-if-you-do, damned-if-you-don’t situation. But he didn’t want to jerk off in the shower.

He wanted to make love to Grace.

A good, hard fucking that could erase this need for her body forever.

Yeah, like that’s going to happen.

One taste of that woman and he’d only want more.

Angry with himself, he dried off and dressed in the dark before reentering the bedroom. She was in one bed, under the covers. He slipped into the other and stared at the ceiling.

He lay awake for hours, planning what he’d do now. When they got back to the house, he would move his makeshift bed to the other side of the room so he would no longer be able to see her with the baby at night.

He’d be polite and courteous to her, but he would work to keep the conversations impersonal and avoid being alone with her whenever possible.

No more dinner dates.

No more fucking champagne.

It was the only way he was going to make it until the election without having sex with her.

Many, many times.

When sleep came, it was fitful and full of dreams of her, so that when she walked from her bed to the bathroom several times, he thought he must be dreaming.

Then he heard her whimper.

He threw the covers back and went to the bathroom door. “Are you okay?”

She cleared her throat. “I’m fine.”

He walked back to his bed and sat on the edge, confused.

Was she upset about the attack in the restaurant? Sometimes he forgot regular people weren’t used to this shit. Of course she would be upset.

She came back to the room and climbed into her bed.

“I know how hard it is. You experienced quite a shock tonight,” he said.

“That’s not the problem.”

“Then what is it?”

She sighed heavily. “If you must know, I had my pump with me in my bag at the restaurant.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.” She rolled over in her bed.

She’d said that was painful. “Is there anything else you can do?”

“I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“Why not? I’m only trying to help.”

“Because you don’t get to have it both ways, Matteo. You don’t get to turn me down and close the door on me and make me feel like day-old bread, then turn around and be my helper again. You don’t want me? Fine. Just leave me the hell alone.”

“You’re in pain. I hate to see you hurting.”

She sighed heavily. “Oh, for goodness’ sake, drop the saintly protector bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit. I want to help you.”

“I hate to ruin your hero complex, but unless you have a hungry infant, there’s nothing you can do.”

Unless he used his mouth on those luscious tits of hers. His cock leaped to life.

Oh, fuck.

Hero complex. Screw her.

That’s the problem, remember?

He ran a hand through his hair. There had to be another way to help her, though the visual of his first idea was forever burned in his brain. He pulled out his phone and went to his browser. You could find anything on the Internet.

A quick search turned up a video, and he watched it with the sound turned off. A woman was using her hand to get milk out of her breast.

This was not helping his erection go down. “I found a video on YouTube that might help.”

“Let me see it.”

He handed her the phone. She watched for a few minutes, then went back to the bathroom.

It seemed like she was gone forever. Finally, he knocked on the door. “Any luck?”

“Go away.”

“Is it working?”

“Leave me alone.”

He walked back to his bed, but instead of lying down, he began to pace. After a few minutes, the bathroom door opened.

She handed him his phone.

“Did it work?”

“No.”

“Are you sure you’re doing it right? ’Cause it looked like you have to squeeze—”

“Shut up, Matteo.”

He closed his mouth and spread out on his bed. For half an hour he considered how far he was willing to go to help her, always returning to his inability to stop anything sexual with her once they started.

“It’s not like a faucet you can just turn on,” she said. “There’s an emotional component. When I’m pumping, I try to think of my son and usually that’s enough. But I’m so frustrated right now I can’t relax. I’m worried about him, and I’m embarrassed about earlier, and I’m stressed about people wanting to kill us, and I’m worried my boobs might explode before we get the hell out of here tomorrow.”

“You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about.”

“Right. I threw myself at you and you pushed me away.”

“Because I want you, not because I don’t.”

“God, please don’t lie to me, Matteo.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Of course you are. I’m fat from the pregnancy and my boobs are swollen and leaky and sore and disgusting. I’m covered in stretch marks. I’m not exactly pinup material, so let’s not pretend.”

“You’re beautiful.”

“Right.”

He moved to her bed, sitting on the edge beside her. “You’re curvy in all the right places, just like a woman should be. And those swollen, leaky breasts of yours are pretty amazing. They take care of your son, and I, for one, can’t stop staring at them.”

“You watch me in the mirror.”

“Yes. I can’t stop.”

“I like it when you watch me.”

His gaze dropped slowly down her neck to the open bodice of her shirt and lower, taking in her full breasts and remembering every curve and shadow. “Let me watch you now.”

This was dangerous territory. He was so aroused he worried his willpower wouldn’t be strong enough. He held out his hand and led the way to the shower, helping her step over the side.

“Take off your shirt,” he commanded.

She did as he asked. Her breasts were larger than their normal fullness and he longed to test their weight in his hands. His cock was hard and aching to be touched. “I want to watch you,” he said.

She squeezed the areola but she could have been squeezing his cock, so excited was he by the sight of her. Over and over again she repeated the motion, pulling her nipple to a point, but no milk came out.

She sighed heavily. “It’s not working.”

His hand lifted of its own accord and he touched her breast reverently. He was powerless to control his need for this woman, unable to resist temptation. “Can I try?”

“Yes.”

His hand moved around the globe of her breast, surprised by how hard it was, and heard her sharp intake of breath. He made his way to her nipple, his fingertips grazing the bumps and wrinkles on her areola, and began copying the motion he’d seen in the video, which was very similar to what she’d been doing already.

Almost immediately, a drop of milk appeared. He groaned.

“That’s it, don’t stop,” she said.

His hand kept massaging her. More drops, then a dribble coming out. He swore.

She was moaning like a woman in bed. He’d never heard her make these sounds before, sounds that stirred his own arousal. His hand was wet with her milk, sliding over her skin and squeezing with rhythmic pulses.

His eye caught on a bead of moisture on her other nipple. He bent his head to lick it, stopping himself at the last moment.

“Please…” she keened.

He hesitated. Was he already too far gone?

“I want you to. Please.”

He made a noise he didn’t recognize as he bent over her and took her in his mouth, lapping at her nipple with his tongue. Her milk was warm and sweet like juice. It was so wrong and so right, and his ambivalence heightened his desire.

“Take more of it in your mouth,” she said breathlessly.

He opened wider and she cried out. “That’s it.”

It was the sweetest nectar. So. Fucking. Good.

He knew when they got to this room tonight that he was powerless to control his reaction to this woman, and now he had unleashed the beast in himself that needed to possess her. There would be no substitutions for the real thing tonight.

He had to stop. He lifted his head, a smacking sound coming from his lips as the suction was broken between them. “You try,” he said.

“I want you—”

“I’ll watch you.” He wouldn’t have pulled his stare from what she was doing if their hotel room had been on fire. He never would have imagined the intimacy involved in what she was doing, how it turned him on and let him into a little world he never knew existed.

His hand pushed her knee away from its mate, and he settled himself between her legs. He took her mouth in a passionate kiss and his hips ground against hers, his erection rubbing against her mound. He braced himself above her and hovered on the brink of no return as she moaned with every shove of his hips as if he were already inside her.

His motions were more deliberate now, designed to please her body, and he listened to her breathing alternate between pants and holding her breath. He was going to make her come just like this, with his hands and the pressure of his body on hers.

She was coming apart beneath him, lifting her hips off the bed to meet his thrusts as she pushed her head back against the pillow and called out. He could feel himself climbing, too, and he thrust harder and faster against her softness.

She wrapped her legs around his hips and the sound she was making changed.

“Come for me, Gracie. Just like that.”

Her mouth hung open as she cried out, the crest of her climax overtaking her. He had to be inside her now, had to feel her clenching around him, and he stripped off his pants and briefs.

But Grace had ideas of her own, and she rolled on top of him, holding his wrists above his head before letting go and making her way down his body with kisses. She wrapped her hands around his cock and took him in her mouth as a guttural cry came from deep in his chest.

Then she was sucking him, licking him with her tongue and taking him deep. He couldn’t take much more of this. Her hands came around his ass and held him to her as her fingernails dug into his buttocks.

She came up for air, panting. “Come in my mouth.”

That’s when he realized she was doing this for him, taking the choice of sleeping together out of the equation. Then her mouth was on him again and he let himself climb higher, thrusting deeply into her hot little mouth, her eager wetness pulling at him stroke after stroke until he cried out in his release.

She lapped softly at him, her tongue caressing his shaft as aftershocks racked his body.

When she curled up at his side, it was all he could do to lift his arm around her and gently rub her back. He kissed her hair, loving the heady scent of her on the air. “Thank you.”

She kissed his chest. “Thank you.”

He drifted off to sleep.