Arched columns divided the kitchen from a large breakfast nook with bay windows. Three sets of French doors opened onto a stone terrace that led down to an oversized swimming pool and cabana, which overlooked the landscaped grounds at the back of the property.
When the buzzer on the gourmet coffeemaker dinged, the fragrant aroma of the rich brew was so enticing that Samara's mouth watered. She would have loved a cup of coffee, but she didn't want to risk harming the baby. Just as she'd done with her other pregnancies, she was limiting her caffeine intake to once or twice a week at work (where she needed it the most).
When Marcus opened the cabinet and removed two mugs, she said casually, "I think I'll just have some orange juice with breakfast."
He shot her a surprised look. "Really? No coffee?"
She shook her head.
Marcus stared at her.
Before he could probe further, the phone rang on the counter above the sink. Grateful for the interruption, Samara went over and grabbed the cordless handset, smiling when she saw Celeste Rutherford's number on the screen.
"Good morning," she answered warmly.
"Hey, baby," Celeste greeted her. "How are you?"
"I'm good. How about you?"
"I'm doing just fine. Hope it's not too early to call?"
"Not at all. We're all up and about. Marcus and I are making breakfast."
Placing a skillet on the range top, Marcus caught Samara's eye and mouthed, Who is it?
Your mom, she mouthed back.
He nodded and got busy frying bacon.
"Where are my grandbabies?" Celeste asked fondly.
"Downstairs watching TV." Samara padded to the refrigerator and took out a container of fresh blueberries.
"I miss them so much," Celeste lamented. "I haven't seen them since the boys' birthday bash in October."
"I know," Samara commiserated, rinsing off the blueberries. "Will you be able to join us for Christmas?"
"I wish," Celeste said with a deep sigh. "I was really hoping we could make it, but Grant wants to spend the holidays with his mother in Vermont. You know she's getting up there in years, and we don't know how much longer she'll be around."
"I understand," Samara said, dumping the blueberries into the pancake batter. The aroma of fresh brewed coffee and sizzling bacon was making her stomach growl. She had been waiting for the dreaded morning sickness to hit her, but so far she'd been spared.
"We're all going to Savannah to hear Mama Wolf speak at the MLK celebration in January," Samara reminded her mother-in-law. "My good friend Melissa and her husband will also be flying down from D.C. Maybe you and Grant can join us that weekend as well."
"Maybe." Celeste paused, then couldn't resist adding a touch sourly, "I'm sure your mother won't miss our presence at Christmas."
Samara didn't know how to respond to that. There was no love lost between her mother and Celeste. She and Marcus tried their best to stay out of it.
Pretending not to hear Celeste's remark, Samara said sincerely, "I hope you and Grant can make it to Savannah."
"Thank you, baby. I hope so, too."
Samara smiled, walking over to Marcus. "Let me put your son on the phone so you can say hello."
Marcus took the phone from her and brought it to his ear. "Hey, Ma."
Samara turned away to pull out a griddle from a cabinet under the center island. She heated up the griddle, smearing the large metal plate with butter. When it was ready, she poured dollops of pancake batter onto the hot surface.
As if lured by the fragrant smell, Milan wandered into the kitchen carrying her favorite Doc McStuffins doll. "Are the pancakes ready yet?"
"Almost." Samara smiled and picked up her daughter, setting her on a stool at the center island. "You can keep me company while the pancakes cook."
"Okay," the toddler said sagely. "If I'm here, they might cook faster."
Marcus, overhearing the comment, burst out laughing along with Samara.
It started raining right after breakfast.
After helping Samara clean up the kitchen, Marcus retreated to his study to return some business calls he'd missed yesterday.
Taking advantage of a lazy Saturday with nowhere to go, the boys scampered off to the game room to entertain themselves. Between the rock climbing wall, moon bounce, video games, basketball hoop, air hockey and foosball tables, there was no shortage of activities to keep them busy.
Left on their own, Samara and Milan headed upstairs to the home theater to watch a Disney movie. One turned into two. Cuddled together under a cozy blanket, they laughed and giggled at the cartoon characters' antics. Halfway through the second flick, Milan dozed off clutching her stuffed doll to her chest.
Samara carefully slipped out from under the blanket and tucked it around her daughter's warm body. Then she snuck off to her bedroom to figure out what to wear to the party tonight. She, Reese, Taylor and Lexi had all decided to wear red.
Fortunately Samara owned plenty of red dresses, some she'd never even worn before. You couldn't be the daughter of a legendary fashion mogul and not have a closet full of fabulous clothes. There was always an event to get glammed up for. A ritzy cocktail party, a charity gala, a star-studded movie premiere, a fashion show where she would be seated in the front row and photographed like crazy.
Clad in a tank top and panties, Samara was standing in her huge closet staring at row after row of designer dresses when Marcus appeared, leaning in the doorway and watching her.
She glanced over her shoulder and smiled at him, then turned away and selected two red dresses.
"I need your help." She padded to the tall three-way mirror and held the dresses up to her body for Marcus's consideration. One was a long silk sheath with spaghetti straps. The other was a backless gown split up the side just enough to show some leg. It still had the tag on.
She looked at Marcus's reflection in the mirror. "Which one should I wear?"
He wasn't looking at the dresses. He was staring at her round ass cheeks hanging out of her underwear. And he was biting his lip with a hungry look she knew all too well.
Smothering a grin, she snapped her fingers to get his attention. "Hello? I need you to focus."
His eyes glinted. "I was focused."
She snorted. "On the wrong thing."
"If admiring your bodacious booty is wrong, I don't wanna be right."
Samara couldn't suppress a laugh. "Seriously, Marcus. I need your help picking out a dress."
He sauntered forward, looking so sexy her breath caught and her pulse jackhammered. Whether he was wearing one of his custom Italian suits or pajama bottoms with a comfy T-shirt that hugged the defined muscles of his chest, the man was a walking fantasy.
He came up behind her, wrapped his strong arms around her waist and pulled her back against him. She could feel the heat radiating from his big body, could feel the heavy ridge of his shaft pressed against the small of her back.
Warm lips nuzzled her neck, causing her nipples to harden as her head fell back helplessly against his shoulder. "Marcus … "
"You don't need my help," he whispered in her ear, sending delicious shivers down her spine. "You look gorgeous in everything you wear. Right now, however, I'd prefer you not wearing anything at all."
"Oh my," she breathed, closing her eyes. Her pulse was pounding with an intensity that rivaled the rain lashing down on the closet's skylight.
"So what do you say we both get naked and have some fun?" Marcus murmured, nuzzling her earlobe. The heated rasp of his breath had her skin tingling with goosebumps.
She smiled, eyes still closed. "What about the kids?"
"What about them? The boys are in their own little world, and Milan's still fast asleep."
"But she might wake up and come looking for me."
Marcus sucked her earlobe. "I locked the door. She won't walk in on us."
"Mmm," Samara purred, licking her lips. "You've got this all figured out, don't you?"
"Umm-hmm." He slid his hands under her tank top to cup her aching breasts, causing her to shudder and moan.
She could feel his thick cock throbbing against her lower back. It made her pussy clench, moisture pooling between her thighs. With all the sex they'd been having lately, she definitely would have gotten pregnant this weekend if she weren't already.
She opened her eyes, meeting her husband's scorching gaze in the mirror. As his big hands fondled her swollen breasts, she stretched up on tiptoe and began grinding her ass against his bulging erection.
He made a guttural sound in his throat, then took the forgotten dresses from her hands and tossed them onto the velvet bench behind her. When she turned around to face him, he lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers in a breath-stealing kiss.
Her senses were still reeling when he released her mouth and knelt to peel her panties off. She hurriedly removed her tank top and flung it aside, then clawed off Marcus's shirt when he stood up.
Dark eyes blazing, he yanked his pajama bottoms down his powerful legs, shucking them off and kicking them out of the way. Then he grabbed Samara's ass, pulling her against him as if he were trying to merge their bodies into one pulsing flesh. She shivered with need and clung to him, her breasts crushed against his bare chest.