Chapter Text
Wednesday, November 13th
Ginny met them at the floo with Albus on one hip and her fist on the other. “Well it is about time,” she griped with a playful grin at Hermione.
Hermione responded with a roll of her eyes as she came in to kiss her friend’s cheek, then bending lower to brush one against her pseudo-nephew's head. “Hello, sweetpea. How have you been? You remember Scorpius from Nanna’s, right?”
Scorpius squeed excitedly, pumping his leg’s in his father’s arms, reaching out both hands towards Albus. Always down for a good time, Albus mirrored him.
“Two peas in a pod,” Ginny grinned, eyes full of love. “It’s weird to think that soon they will be in the same year at Hogwarts.”
“Not too soon, hopefully,” Draco drawled, eyes retrospective as he hugged his son close.
Hermione stepped into his side, brushing her hand soothingly down his arm and pressed a quick kiss to his broad shoulder. Thoughts of Hogwarts also brought up less than stellar memories for Hermione and she just hoped that the ten years until the next generation walked their walls would smooth the rougher edges of her anxiety.
“We brought wine,” Hermione said to lighten the mood, waggling the bottles by the crooks of their necks, “and a bottle of cider for those of us not imbibing.”
Ginny raised a brow, eying the wine bottle with its hand-inked label and wax sealed cork wantonly. “You didn’t think to bring two so I could have some once I’m not longer confined?”
“As there are less than eight bottles of this vintage remaining in the world, I thought a single bottle was a suitable host gift.” Draco’s bearing was more reserved than was typical for him and Hermione found herself wondering if he was nervous.
“Is it any good? Cause Harry tried to get into this fancy stuff a few years ago, and a lot of it just tasted like bad grapes. I much prefer a bottle or two of good plonk that is at least palatable.”
“It was the label we served for my wedding toast.”
“So it’s the expensive stuff that your rich social acquaintance thought was fancy enough for a celebration? I may just keep that for us and pull out a couple bottles of Surrey Gold we have on hand.” She said, leading them to the kitchen. “Harry!” she hollered into the bowels of the house, “Hermione’s here! She brought the fer-- she brought Draco!” Ginny quickly corrected, sending Hermione’s glare an apologetic wince.
“A’ty Me-Me!” a child’s voice screamed as James came barreling into the den, sands trousers and a shirt only on one arm and half of his head. Harry, looking haggard, rushed out behind him, scooped the little boy up in his arms and immediately disappeared back down the hall, no doubt to finish getting the child dressed for company.
Ginny, a mother who had learned early on when to pick her battles, didn’t even blink an eye. “Dinner still has another twenty minutes. We’re having pot roast.”
“Smells great. Are Ron and Lavender still coming?” Hermione asked, sliding into one of the bar stools in the kitchen and kicking the other out in an offering for Draco.
“Yeah. They were meeting up with some people for after work drinks so they may be a little late.”
“How are the wedding prep’s going?”
Ginny grimaced. “Maybe don’t bring it up?” she cautioned. “The original wedding party that had the venue apparently worked things out and are wanting the date back. And as the venue hadn’t actually gotten around to refunding their deposit it’s still technically theirs. It’s a whole mess.”
“Oh, no. How’s Ron handling it?” Hermione asked, knowing of his sometimes hair-trigger temper.
“He’s been choking at the cost since the beginning. He tried to suggest that maybe this was a sign that they should elope.”
Hermione winced, remembering the hours of work the woman had put in to make her dream wedding a reality on a shoestring budget and three months' time. “Poor Lav.”
“Yeah, he spent a night in our guest room, but they’ve since worked it out but it’s a bit touchy as they’re waiting for the venue to reach out about their options.”
“If they would like,” Draco broke in stiffly, “I can have one of my people look over the contract they signed with the venue. They did sign a contract, correct?”
Seeing Ginny’s wide eyed stare, Hermione vaguely wondered if her own face matched.
“Unless you think that would be inappropriate?” Draco hedged, silver eyes flitting between the two women.
“No! I mean,” Ginny modulated her voice, subconsciously bouncing Albus as he fussed at her sharp tone, “that would be very helpful, thank you. I’ll test the waters and try to give you an opening over dinner.”
“Speaking of testing the waters--” Hermione started but was interrupted when Harry, with an appropriately dressed James, took that moment to join them.
“Well that was a nightmare,” he grumbled. “How did you ever convince me to have another?”
“How did you convince me to have another?” Ginny said pointedly, shifting her infant son out of the way to rub the still hidden swell of her stomach.
“That one was an accident,” Harry defended hotly, trying to contain a squirming James in his arms as the boy chanted ‘ac’nt, ac’nt’.
“That’s a great thing to say about your daughter,” Ginny said, hand on her free hip as she tossed her hair.
Draco sat tensely beside her, eyes batting back and forth against the other adults. Hermione laid a calming palm to his thigh, so used to the Weasley’s brand of flirt-fighting that it didn’t even phase her anymore. It was when things got quiet that you really had to worry.
“So it is a girl then?” Hermione interrupted, half out of genuine excitement, half to remind the couple that others were present and to keep their courting rituals to themselves.
Ginny turned to her, an incandescent smile brightening her whole face. “Yeah, we just found out. I’m eight weeks as of Sunday.”
“I’m so happy for you both. Have you told anybody else yet?”
“Just my head coach so they can get my replacement lined up. I’m finishing out the half season but come the new year I’ll be grounded by medical.” She sighed, shooting her husband a disgruntled look. “I really wish we would have planned this one better. I hate feeling like I’m abandoning the team.”
Harry came in close to his wife. “Next time,” he promised in a whisper, plying her with a passionate kiss. James, who was still contained in his father’s arms, thought that was the perfect time to let loose the shrillest scream Hermione had heard since they had to repot mandrakes in second year.
Everyone flinched, instinctively going to cover their ears, Draco covering Scorpius’s and just having to grit and bear it.
“James, buddy, enough!” Harry barked. The tiny terror just looked up at him and laughed before doing it again. Harry wrapped his hand around the boy’s mouth, locking the other around his waist and bicep curling him up to blow raspberries on his stomach. The muffled shriek dissolved into giggles. Righting the child, Harry held him up before him to look him in the eyes. “We. Do. Not. Yell. In. The. House!”
“Ouse!” James repeated.
“Right. No yelling.” Harry kissed his cheek before setting him down with a pat on his butt. “Go play.”
With a weary sigh, Harry took the chair next to Draco. “He learned a new game from some of his other cousins while visiting his Nana’s this week. The point of the ‘game’ being to scream as loud as one could for as long as possible in one breath. It’s been a rough few days.”
“Have you tried a silencing charm?” Draco offered helpfully.
“Hm, too paranoid,” Harry said, shifting his glasses up to rub at his eyes. “If I can’t hear him, I don’t know what he’s doing, and it’s typically bad. There was one time he found a hidden passage in the house and got trapped in the wall for an hour. I thought I was about to bloody well lose my mind and had to blast through six different walls to get him out.”
“That was a fun weekend,” Ginny mused dispassionately, passing off their other offspring. “But it did weaken the charm enough that we could get that bigoted old bat off the wall in the entry.”
“Less ‘weakend’ and more ‘the structural integrity of the wall was so compromised that a little less integrity wasn’t that much of a loss’. Speaking of,” Harry turned to Draco, “do you want the living picture of your great aunt? She’s up in the attic because destroying her felt too close to killing her and its not really something you can set out with the bins.”
Draco sighed, shifting Scorpius closer so he could grunt and wave at Albus. “Might as well. I can stick her over in the gallery walk and she can bitch to all the other members of the old guard.
“Itch, Itch!” James popped up beside her, jumping in excitement.
“You have an itch?” Hermione asked, scratching her clawed hand lightly down his back to redirect him. “Here?”
He grinned at her, shaking his head.
“How about here?” She moved onto his head.
Again, he shook his head.
“I know, how about here!” She started to tickle his sides, slipping from her stool to follow him to the ground as he collapsed in a fit of giggles.
“Me-me! Top! Top!”
“Stop?” she repeated, adding an emphasis to the first missing letter. At his nod, Hermione took away her tickling fingers, helping him sit up. “How have you been, luvy? Been good for your mom and dad?”
He shook his head with a half toothed grin. The twinkle of mischief in his eyes reminded her morosely of Sirius and Harry at his most roguishly carefree, but she forced herself to genuinely smile so as not to let ghosts ruin her relationship with the living. “No. Then what have you been?”
“Fun!” he chirped, bouncing on his hands and knees.
“Fun is good. What about brave?”
He nodded his head emphatically.
“And kind?”
“I ‘air wh’ brot’er,” he said, unearthing one of his toys from under the table to show her.
“You share your toys with your brother? That is very kind. Are you a good big brother?”
“Fun,” he said, drawing out the word as if correcting her as he pretended to walk his dragon toy along the ground.
“Ah, you’re a fun big brother. That’s important, too.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, finding a headless knight on a white horse to do aerial battle with his dragon.
The floo roared announcing new arrivals. Ron entered the kitchen first. “You’ll never believe who we met at the pub,” he said in the boisterous manner of his that let Hermione know he was more than two drinks into his evening.
“Who?” Ginny asked, distracted with popping the cork on a bottle of wine. The one she and Draco brought seemingly already tucked away.
Hermione felt her blood drain from her face as she laid eyes on the man that had followed Ron, Lavender bringing up the rear.
“It’s--”
“Cormac,” Hermione greeted, hiding a grimace as she collected James and stood. She’d made the mistake of going on several dates with Cormac McLaggen in the months after she and Ron had split. The good sex had outweighed his boarish personality until it hadn’t. Luckily within a few weeks he’d been sent out as a liaison to somewhere in North America by his uncle and that had spelled the natural end of their relationship. She did not recall the time fondly and had since found much better bed partners.
“Hiya, Hermione. Long time no see.” The tall blonde with the Casanova smile eyed the child in her arms with a calculating frown. “I didn’t know you had kids. Who's the lucky bloke?”
About to open her mouth to let him know James wasn’t hers, Ron beat her to it with a cruel laugh. “That’s my nephew James, he’s Gin’s and Harry’s. Hermione there doesn’t want any kids. Too busy trying to save the world to want to be tied down by a family.”
Hermione bowed her head, feeling cut to the quick. James, sensing her distress, laid his head on her shoulder and petted her check. For how rambunctious his natural demeanour was, she had yet to meet another child with such an innate sense of empathy. Squeezing him tight, she smacked a kiss to his temple.
“Come on, James,” Ron called, “come give Unky Won-Won a hug. Aunty Lav and I have a gift for you.” He bribed.
James’s head perked up at the word gift, wrenching around in her arms to stare at Ron. She grinned, charmed by his zeal. “Do you want to go see what it is?” She whispered in his ear. He turned back to look at her, a little furrow between his brow and in decision in his and it broke Hermione’s heart that he thought he needed to stay with her. “I’m going to be fine,” she promised him softly, crouching to set him on his feet. “Go see what your uncle has brought you.”
He paused, green eyes, so much like his father’s in shape but more fern than emerald, flickering back and forth to stare deeply into hers. Bringing up his small hand, he touched his palm to her cheek. “Rave.”
Her heart swelled so much she wanted to cry. She copied him, laying her hand on his cheek that was just starting to lose its baby fat, so their connection made a circle. “Kind,” she told him proudly. Turning him by the shoulder, she patted his butt to get him moving forward, “go have fun.”
He grinned, scampering to claim his prize.
Hermione retook her seat beside Draco, who hooked a hand beneath her thigh and the lip of the barstool to drag her closer. “Are you okay?” he asked for her ears alone.
Wordlessly she leaned against him, nodding.
“We can go home if you want to. I don’t mind if your friends don’t like me.”
“It’s fine,” she sighed. “Besides, we still need to ask if Harry and Ginny are free this Saturday.”
“If you’re sure.” He looked distinctly frustrated that they couldn’t just storm out but they knew securing Scorpius’s welfare was more important.
“I’m sure.”
Both their heads jerked up as James let loose another one of his almighty screams. “A’ty Me-me, look!” he shouted, rushing over to them, holding the toy Ron had gifted him out to show off.
“Inside voice,” she reminded kindly, tapping a gentle finger to his lips before examining the plushie. “Wow! That looks like an ankylosaurus. After dinner do you want to get your dinosaur books and we can read up on him?”
“Now!” James demanded with a foot stomp.
“After dinner,” Hermione repeated calmly. “Though if you can wait until after dessert, that might be best.”
His eyes glowed with excitement at the mention of sweets. “Roun-e.”
“Mumma made brownies? Mumma’s brownies are the best. Did you help?”
“Taste test.”
“Mumma let you be the taste tester?”
He shook his head with a cheeky grin. “Dadu.”
“Ah, dada let you have a brownie before dinner.”
“Spoon,” he grunted happily.
“And he let you lick the spoon. Was that why he was changing you when we got in?”
He nodded solemnly. “Bath.”
“Yeah,” she commiserated. “But when you make a mess you have to clean it up.”
He let out a sigh as big as his body before using her legs as a ladder to crawl into her lap. “Who dat?” he asked with no reserve, pointed an accusing finger towards Draco that nearly caught him on the nose.
“That’s Draco. Remember you met him the other week at Nana's house?”
“No.”
“Well then, let me reintroduce myself,” Draco said, shifting Scorpius to free up one arm, which he held out to the toddler to shake. “Draco Lucius Malfoy. And this is my son, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy.”
“Like brot’er.”
“Yes, Scorpius is small like Albus. But can you say your name to finish introducing yourself?”
“James Potter.” They ‘j’ came out sounding closer to a ‘d’, and his last name was very much a garbled afterthought, but him shaking Draco’s hand with a too serious expression made her smile.
“Okay everyone, dinner’s ready.” Ginny called out, lifting the dutch oven by hand so as not to chance a charm faulting at an inopportune time with littlens running afoot.
Hermione slid James to the ground allowing him to skitter away once the roast was safely to the table. “What’s everyone having to drink?” she asked the room at large as she stepped into the kitchen proper to bring down glasses.
“What is there?” Ron asked brusquely from where he stood talking with Cormac, Lavender at his side.
“Water, pumpkin juice, Draco and I brought a cider.”
“Hard?” Ron asked intrigued.
She shook her head, feeling Luna’s earrings shift against her hair. “Standard. But it’s really quite tasty. Perfect balance of sweet and tart. It’s what I’m having.”
“Nah. Harry,” he raised his voice to carry across the room. “You got anything actually worth drinking?”
“We’ve got two bottles of a white, a bottle of mixed red, and half a bottle of Ogden's.” Harry said, situating Albus in his highchair with a bowl of a few mashed carrots and potatoes Ginny had set aside for him.
“Would you be a dear, 'Mione, and pour me a glass of cider?” Ginny called from the dining area where she was getting James settled in his booster. “Sounds refreshing after slaving over a hot stove.”
“Coming up. Anyone else?” she said, pouring two glasses.
“I’ll take an Ogden’s.” Cormac ordered, hands in his pocket, eyes locked on Hermione. She felt the intent lurking in his gaze and it took everything in her not to make a scene at his blatant perusal. She really wished she hadn't decided to wear the carmine silk blouse she’d bought a few months back or had thought to pair it with her low rise muggle jeans. She was thinking of ways on how to ask Ginny for a cardigan without drawing attention when Draco came up beside her, Scorpius in his arms.
“I’ll pour, if you’d like,” he offered, one hand caressing her hip in a proprietary move that typically would have left her more on edge but instead calmed her with the knowledge that he had clocked the other man’s interest and was willing to take point in dealing with it.
“That would be great.” she sighed, taking a calming breath and allowing him to slip the bottle she held in a death grip from her hands.
“Would you get Scorp set up in a highchair?” He passed the baby casually over to her, putting his body between her and Cormac.
“Come on, little star. Let's go eat!” She brought Scorp and the two glasses of cider to the table, wishing they were in fact alcoholic to better cope with the rest of the evening.
Lavender, with her own glass of wine, eyed Hermione's glass of cider with trepidation. “Are you sure your not pregnant?”
Nostrils flaring, Hermione locked hard eyes on Ginny.
Reading that she was about three seconds from reaching system meltdown, Ginny jumped to play interference. “Lav, do you have the contract you signed with the venue? ‘Cause Draco said he’d be willing to have one of his lawyers look it over for any recourse.”
Lavender’s whole face lit up. “Really? That would be fantastic! I’ve been having fits trying to figure out what we can do with the date being so close. I’ve made calls to a dozen other places but everything is booked. At this point we may have to have it at Ron’s mom’s house.”
“I’m sure it won’t be that bad.” Ginny tried to soothe, rubbing the other witch’s forearm. “Mom still has the tent from Bill and Fleur's wedding. And with the flowers, streamers, and glitter, we can make a right grand showing.”
“But this place had a water fountain,” Lavender pouted, eyes cresting with tears.
James took this inopportune time to throw his head back and scream, hitting a note Hermione would swear had set the crystal to ringing. Albus, always trying to mimic his big brother, let loose his own war cry.
“Boy!” Harry snarled from the head of the table where he was getting Jame’s plate situated. “What did I say about screaming in the house?”
“Sowy, dadu. Fo-g’t.”
The rest of the men joined the table. Ron beside Lavender, Harry at the head, with Ginny to his right, Albus between them. James was catty-corner to Harry’s left besides Hermione. Scorp, in a transfigured brass lamp highchair, sat between her and Draco, who had placed himself as a buffer between Cormac at the foot of the table.
Conversation flowed. Cormac sharing stories of California in the United States where he’s spent the last two and a half years before deciding he’d missed home enough to leave the sunny climate for dreary ol’ Britain. “There are cars everywhere and they drive on the wrong side of the road!”
Lav had two articles set to publish in the next issue of Witch Weakly and the magazine was giving her a two page spread for a tell-all on the behind the scenes of her wedding. Ginny touched on her Harpy training, but kept it vague so as not to tip her hand on her upcoming medical leave or the reason for it. Harry, on the upswing, used that to quickly migrate the topic of conversation to quidditch where it stayed for the majority of dinner, even Draco chiming in.
Hermione mostly sat and listened. Ron was good at getting in pointed digs while inebriated and she wished to preserve the peace at a night out with friends.
“What have you been up to, Golden Girl?” Cormac demanded once there was a lull as everyone finished eating. She had felt his eyes on her constantly throughout the night but had tried adamantly to ignore them but there was not way to do that now without appearing rude.
“Oh, you know,” she hedged, helping Scorpius with his spoon after the fifth time of him dropping it, “this and that.”
“That werewolf bill you passed last year made it all the way across the pond. You have a lot of people very impressed by you,” he purred and it made Hermione’s skin crawl. “Anything else on your agenda I can bring to my uncle’s ear?”
Tiberius Ogden had been a political thorn in her side for as long as Hermione had been with the Ministry. A big game hunter, he saw no use for Creatures beyond sport and saw her as an impudent young girl trying to change things when they were perfectly fine the way they were. She was annoyed with her younger self all over again that she allowed herself to be taken, for however brief a time, with this nepo-baby who only saw those around him as commodities to barter with.
“A’ty Me-Me?” James intercepted before she could let loose her rant.
Taking a deep breath she turned her full attention to the little boy. “Yes, sweetpea?”
“Die-no-sour book?”
Her heart melted. “Yes, the dinosaur book sounds like the perfect thing right now. Why don’t you go get it?”
“O’tay.” Hopping down from his booster, his bare feet made little slapping sounds as he raced for his room, his tread heavy on the stairs.
“Why does he call you aunty?” Ron grumbled into his third glass of whiskey while being here, eyes glassy and words slurred, “you’re not even his real aunt.”
You could hear a pin drop at the table. It took everything in Hermione not to give into the scream that bubbled up through the tightness in her chest. “Ginny, Harry, thank you for dinner but I think it’s time we get home.”
“No.” Harry said, face hard as he stared daggers at Ron. “You told James you’d read to him. You were there with us the day he was born and you held my hand when I told you how scared I was to be a father. You are the only sister I will ever have and your place has been cemented in our family with something much stronger than blood. Ron, I think it’s time you leave.”
“Whut? You’re kicking me out? Me, Harry?” He stared open mouth in disbelief. Turning to his sister, “Ginny, are you going to let him do that?”
Her thunderous face matched her husband. “You have until the count of ten before I bat-bogey hex you so hard you’ll be lucky to have clear nostrils in time for your wedding.”
“So she’s the one that brings the snake but I’m--”
“Eight, seven, six,” Ginny counted down, eyes flashing.
“I can’t believe this.” He threw his napkin on the table and shoved to his feet. “Come on Lavender, let's go.” He stormed out of the dining room.
Lavender shot the table a force smile, apologetic, before scurrying after her fiance.
Cormac broke the awkward silence. “Well dinner was fabulous--”
“Goodnight, McLaggen,” Harry said forcefully.
“Right.” He stood, buttoning his sports coat. “Hermione, if you’d ever like to get coffee--”
Draco growled menacingly from beside her, hand curled around the curve of her waist and eyes predatory as they locked on the other man.
“Goodnight, Cormac.” She replied with finality.
Nodding, he dipped a parting goodbye and headed to the floo.
James scampered back into the room, new dinosaur plushie tucked under his arm and the Big Book Of Dinosaurs held triumphantly above his head. So excited to learn about his new friend he didn't even seem to notice that nearly half the table had emptied while he’d been gone. Climbing back up on his chair he began flipping through pages Hermione had charmed to be unrippable.
“Look, A’ty Me-Me. Dis one, dis one!”
“That's right, sweetheart. That is the same one as your toy,” she said, swallowing back tears at her friend’s -- no, family’s -- passionate defence so as not to alarm the boy. Pulling him and the book closer she began to read. “The ankylosaurus is a genus of armoured dinosaur. Its fossils have been found…”
By the time they’d flooed home, Hermione felt exhausted, emotionally raw, and slightly concussed from all the noise. Glancing over at Draco as they stood there teetering on the edge of the hearth, she was slightly relieved to see he looked much the same.
As if taking the new found silence as his cue, Scorpius who towards the end of the night had gotten invested in Jame’s ‘game’, let out an ear piercing screech that echoed off the walls. As the baby was in Draco’s arms, and mere inches from his ear, this caused Draco to flinch so hard Hermione was sure he’d done himself physical injury.
“Scorpius!” The sharp bite of his father’s voice, unfamiliar in its harshness, brought the tot up short. Big eyes wide, his lower lip trembled, as he threw himself against Draco’s shoulder sobbing. Draco cradled his son close, rubbing his back. “I didn’t mean to raise my voice, luv. I’m sorry. You yelling in my ear hurt. I didn’t mean to scare you. Please stop crying.”
Hermione blew out a hard breath, eyes glazed and feeling a little wild after the stress of the night. “Why don’t you go put him to bed. I’m going to go…” she trailed off dazedly making her way from the travelling room in the direction of the kitchen.
Draco caught up with her several minutes later, sans Scorpius, as she stood braced against the kitchen island, a half-pint of ice cream pressed against her forehead and a spoon dangling from her lips.
“Is there enough for two?” he sighed.
She grunted but pulled open the drawer with her free hand to grab a spoon, handing it over and removing the cold compress enough for Draco to scoop a serving.
“I feel like I’ve gone deaf in my left ear.” Draco said. “How is it, with less than a quarter of the people present, that was more chaotic than the whole of the Burrow brunch?”
“James is … energetic. And having other cousins around helps disperse some of that energy. Not to mention, Nanna’s house has loads of fun things to do outside that aren't as feasible at Grimmauld Place. I remember starting the night thinking how cute it was all the boys got along and now I’m wanting to run to Timbuctoo to never be found again.”
“The joys of parenthood,” Draco murmured drowsily, stealing another bite. “Thinking your child is an angel one minute, then praying for mercy when they reveal that they are actually possessed.”
Holding the carton back to her forehead she laughed mirthlessly.
“I have pain potions if you’d like,” he offered around the spoon, eyeing her carefully.
She waved him off. “It’s just a headache. I wasn’t expecting McLaggen on top of everything else and it left me a bit tense.”
“I take it from the way he was looking at you, there is some history there?”
“Very much a ‘was.’ He was my rebound right after Ron. And most assuredly a mistake. But he was handsome and I was lonely and the sex was … different, so I thought it was better and it took me longer than it should have to wise up.” She buried her face in her cupped hands, “story of my fucking life.”
“How long did it last?”
Hermione sighed, straightening. “Two months. But that was about six weeks longer than it should have. And the worst part was I knew better. But at that point I had gotten so good at ignoring that little voice in the back of my head telling me something was wrong that it just became white noise.”
“Well I can’t help with poor choices, Merlin knows I’ve made too many of my own to try and tout propriety, but I can offer myself to help relieve your tension,” he purred.
She arched an unimpressed brow in his direction, even as she felt a pull of arousal twist through her hips, like a cat waking with a stretch.
Draco held up his hands in faux contrition. “Hey, I was just offering a back massage. It’s your mind that went straight to the gutter."
“A back massage sounds wonderful,” she affirmed, running her tongue teasingly along the back of her spoon, “but I also want an orgasm. You know, for the tension.”
“I do aim to please.” Abandoning the mostly empty container, he grabbed her by the thighs, lifting her to perch on his hips. Her spoon chimed against the tile floor as he carried her towards the stairs.