Pelvis grinding against pelvis as rushed, low moans bounced off the sedan's tinted windows. Indigo's teeth sunk into her bottom lip as Tate kneaded her plump breast and devoured the other with delicate determination. Her head lolled back as the arch in her back deepened with every thrust they timed in a unison they perfected over the years. Her short fingernails dug into the lean, toned flesh of his thigh but he paid no mind to the pain as his strokes intensified.

An electric current coursed under her smoldering skin produced quivers to her muscles only able to utter monosyllabic words. His manhood pulsated against every inch of her throbbing walls morphing her moans to whimpers hijacking her body with uncontrollable shivers as she reached her peak of pleasure. Tate exploded in her with a chortled grunt, eyes closed and head bared in her heaving chest no longer worried about the consequences—she was his wife. His woman. His home.

Indigo looped her arms around his neck, his dewy skin against her heated flesh. "Damn," she said breathily, still riding the tail end of her high. Eight years later, the sex was still good. Scrambled her mind, calmed her nerves, and brought elation to her soul.

Her brown eyes sparkled and a coy half smile tugged up her mouth, "Are you ready?"

"What?" Tate gazed at her a little dazed, his breath still heavy as he set his hands firmly on her hips, stilling her as she sat straddled on his lap. Her fidgeting was arousing him once more.  "Don't you think we should wait just a little before the next round?"

"I'm not talking about that," She chuckled with a  tap to his back as if he was supposed to know what she was talking about. "I'm talking about Monday. The lecture. Getting to meet your students." She ran her fingers through the damp, clumped tresses at the nape of his neck. "I'm excited for you."

His lips lifted as he huffed with a little humor, "This is where your mind goes right after you climax."

"I'm a multitasker, Tate." She rested her forehead against his with jovialness playing in her words. "You should know this by now." 

"I do know but...work is the last thing I'm thinking about right now." He started rubbing her hips slowly and his gaze dropped to her breast full and on display. "The last thing I want to think about."

She latched her hand on his chin and lifted his face, "Focus, Tate. Focus."

"I am focusing." He twisted his neck, wrangling his chin out her grasp then pulled her body against his—his hard abs against her soft stomach. "On you." He said peppering kisses up her neck. He stopped at her parted lips. "It's not exciting for me. It's depressing. Nerve wrecking." He advanced his mouth towards hers. "Fucking my wife is my main concern."

She pulled her head back to ask, "What else concerns you?" She could feel a shift in his energy since leaving the art gallery but he'd put up a wall. A wall she was trying to break down brick by brick.

"What about I put you on your back..." His hands tightened around her waist. "Or your hands and knees?"

"Just answer the...ohhh." Her words silenced as she felt his shaft slide inside her slick core.

The garage light flicked on as small steps hit against the concrete, "Greer! I told you mama and daddy were home!" Thyme shouted, slapping her hands on the sedan window.

"Then where are they?" Greer asked, suited in Princess Tiana pajamas. "They aren't in their room."

"Maybe they went for a walk." Thyme's My Little Pony sleep set swallowed her frame as she gawked in the driver's side window, the tint too dark for her to see anything. "We should go check."

"The hell you won't!" Indigo shouted.

Thyme jumped away from the car, smacking her bottom on the ground with and humph. "Mama!" She squawked.

"Where's daddy?" Greer asked, helping Thyme off the ground. "Are ya'll having secret talk?"

"Don't worry about it!" Indigo told, sliding off Tate's lap. He dropped his head against the seat cushion with an unhappy sigh. "Just have your behinds in the bed before I count to ten." She fitted her lace panties over her ankles as she began counting. "1...2...3...4..." Before she got to five the girls hightailed it out the garage.

Indigo clasped her bra on then turned her sight toward a quiet Tate, "What is it?

"Watching you." He grinned rolling his eyes over her body, not caring about the stretch marks around her waist or the C-section scar at the bottom of her stomach. "Wondering what I did to be rewarded with so much goodness."

She smiled at what he said but a seed of worry rooted in the pit of her stomach from what he didn't say. "Something is worrying you." Her hand fell on his thigh as she inched closer to him. "I'll let you process but..." She kissed his lips then steeled her eyes as she matched his gaze. "I need you here and not in Tate land, okay."

He held her neck and pulled her back to him, giving her a deep, passionate kiss, "Okay."

"You have nothing to feel bad about. Okay."

He didn't echo the same four letter word as he did before. He turned away from her, setting his contemplative gaze ahead. His silence was loud and she knew what was bothering him. It was the same thing that brought him grief for the last three years. His writing.

"Teaching is a noble profession," She inched closer to his side, lacing her fingers with his. She placed a soft kiss on his shoulder but the gesture didn't bring his sight back to her. She had to up her game, he was slipping in his despair quickly. She climbed back on his lap obstructing his view of the driver's seat headrest.

"You're noble." She told him once his eyesight connected with hers. The sadness that swelled in his eyes tugged at her heart. She wanted to make it better. "You are a great writer."

He huffed bleakly, "A writer has to write and I have no more sentences and I'm void of ideas. I was a great writer. Now, I'm just a has-been that has to fill in for a real professor that's out recovering from heart surgery."

She chortled, "Dude! Chill."

"I'm glad my frustration is comedy to you."

"It's not comedy but this is." She gestured to him, his bare chest now dried from the sweat that sheathed it. "You're jumping off forty-feet bridges, right now. You have a drought. Okay! You've been writing hit after hit for a decade. Maybe this is just your brain's way of saying it needs a break. Needs some rest."

He tilted his head drinking in her words and finding much truth in them.

"You're not a has been. You're not washed up or broken. You're just in flux. And I know you're frustrated but don't be an asshole to yourself." She clung her hands to his shoulders and gripped them tightly, "Not to the person I love with all my heart and soul"

"I don't want to let you down." He spoke the words as if was confessing a deep dark secret.

"You could never." She softly smiled holding his face.

He dimly grinned, "Are you done with your pep-talk?"

"Are you done feeling sorry for yourself?"

He smirked, "I love you, you know that."

"I do," She cockily answered. "But can you say me...just one more time." She unhooked her bra and tossed it back to the floor.

"One more. Two more." He placed kisses down her neck until he made his way to the space between her breasts then he peered up at her with love and lust flooding his eyes, "However many times you want."

She smirked loving it when he got romantic but her mind was beginning to wander and she needed to know if those two little girls actually went back to bed. There was a fifty percent chance they did but it was the other fifty that worried her.

Do you think Indigo's pep-talk worked?

Is it important that Indigo takes time to as she put it 'just be a wife; a woman, a lover, and a sexually being'?

Will Tate be a good professor?

What do you think, did Thyme and Greer go back to bed?