Picture Me Sexy (17 page)

A long, slow howl issued from his throat, then he groaned and collapsed against her, almost unable to hold up his own weight. He trembled from the force of it, shook uncontrollably and knew that what had just happened had inexplicably bound them together forever.

Chest heaving, Sam said, “That's the s-second time we've made love without protection. I h-hope you aren't opposed to starting a family i-immediately.” For reason's that escaped him, he had the inexplicable premonition that they'd just done exactly that.

That sounded like sheer heaven, Delaney thought. The idea of carrying his child warmed her from the inside out. “I'm not opposed at all,” she told him, flexing her feminine muscles around him, listening as his breath caught in his throat and watching his eyes all but roll back in his head.

God, she loved this man.

“In fact, I'm quite in favor of the idea.” She
leaned forward, framed his face with her hands and planted a long, hungry kiss on his lips. Hers, she thought as he throbbed deep inside her. He had been different…and he was all hers. Not just for today, or for tomorrow or in the meantime—forever. Her senses soared.

“Is th-that right?” Sam asked brokenly.

“That's right.” Delaney chuckled wickedly and her heart began to beat in tune with the Wedding March. “Inseminate me again, baby.”

Oh, would he ever, Sam thought, then swiftly turned the thought into a reality.

“H
E'S FALLEN ASLEEP
,”
Delaney whispered softy. “I need to lay him down.” She smoothed her fingers over her son's dark, downy head and her chest inexplicably filled with wondrous joy.

“Hold on just another minute,” Sam told her haltingly, face behind the camera. “This is too good. I can't—I can't stop. Just a few more minutes.”

Though her heart filled with exasperated happiness, Delaney resisted the urge to roll her eyes. He'd been pleading
a few more minutes
for the past hour. For the past year. Her shutterbug husband had been taking pictures of her for what felt like forever. Racy photos, then when she'd become pregnant, he'd become almost obsessed with her maternal form, wanted to catalogue every change in her body.

Her pregnancy had inspired a new line of maternity lingerie at the
Chifferobe
and her new senior photographer, a hot guy by the name of Sam Martelli, had headed up the project as well as fine-tuned others. Together they were an unbeatable team. Her business had enjoyed success before he came on-board, but now
Laney's Chifferobe
was a force to be reckoned with. They gotten married immediately af
ter getting back together and the speedy wedding had sparked a flurry of controversial publicity in Memphis. The
Herald,
in particular, had taken an unfavorable slant to her marriage. But one visit from Sam, his attorney, father and brothers in tow, had nixed any further uncharitable articles.

She'd thought that his fascination with taking pictures of her would wane once the baby was born, thought her son would become his new favorite subject, but she'd been wrong. Oh, he'd taken thousands of pictures of their baby, but had taken thousands more of she and the baby together. Nudes, stills, indoor, outdoor, everywhere.

She'd come to the baby's room to nurse, had sat down in the rocker in front of the window and, when her greedy son had latched on to her breast, contentment and happiness had permeated her every pore. The rightness of the moment—of her life with Sam and her child—had hit her. Sam had chosen that exact moment to walk into the room, he'd gotten that look, hurried off, then reappeared with his camera. Delaney's lips curled. Sam Jr. had finished his morning snack thirty minutes ago, and yet Sam Sr. still wouldn't let her get up.

Delaney heaved a small sigh. “Sam, I'm going to lay him down. I'm getting up now.”

“But—”

“But nothing.”

“Oh, all right.” He set the camera aside, met her at the crib and nudged a blanket out of the way so
that she could lay the baby down. “God, he's perfect, Delaney,” Sam murmured softly, reverently. Though he wasn't comfortable with it yet, her big, tough, Italian husband had been known to tear up over their baby.

A smile gently tugged her lips. That was an assessment she wholeheartedly agreed with. “He's like his daddy,” Delaney told him.

Sam slid his arm about her waist and pulled her close. “Nah, he's definitely like his momma.” He bent down and kissed her nose.

“I suppose we could share the credit,” Delaney replied drolly as familiar warmth started at her toes and fizzed to her hairline.

“There is that.” Sam drew back and inclined his head. Something hot and wicked lurked in his dark-as-sin gaze, clung to that lazy smile. “When are Pops and the clan supposed to be here?”

She knew where this line of questioning was headed. Anticipation drew a slow smile across her lips. “They're coming for lunch. Not for several more hours.” She hadn't simply acquired a husband, she'd gotten a family to boot. A big, loud family whom she absolutely adored.

Sam bent down and nuzzled her neck. He hummed under his breath. “I don't know about you, but I'm hungry now.” He nipped at her earlobe, sending a shock of gooseflesh across her skin.

Delaney shuddered delicately as pleasure hummed
through her. “Yeah?” she murmured. “I could go for something.”

“Yeah? For what?”

Delaney slid her fingers into the hair at his nape, dragged him down and kissed him until she could scarcely draw a breath, until she felt him prod against her belly. She laced her fingers through his and tugged him toward their bedroom. Her eyes twinkled. “Chocolate-covered sex.”