By He undid the top button of his custom dress shirt. “No kids.”
Sharon rested her head against his chest, her hands toying at his soft qiviuq wool suit. It must of cost a fortune, and she wondered how he could afford such things. Not that I’m complaining, she told him.
Todd stood at least four inches taller than her. He looked down with brown eyes that seemed to smile at her.
Or was he laughing at her?
And then his strong fingers worked around her back to the bra strap.
“No kids,” she repeated. Two simple words for someone with no strings attached.
She knew that Todd only understood sex, but he did it so well. But he had never made it past the naked and passionate phase. Afterward, there was birth, dirty diapers, late night feedings and catching a short nap after you think the baby is satisfied from a messy feeding and an even messier burping.
“I’m just a toy, aren’t I?”
He pulled her closer, kissing Sharon softly and looking into her eyes. For a moment, she only saw Johnny reflected back. He must be working a double shift.
But, oh God! Todd’s hands.
Sharon tried to shut out thoughts of back home.
-M. Duda
