Sitting out on the front porch, shelling peas with my sister and our children is peaceful. I chuckle a little at the sight of Philip, our little Pipin, bouncing his leg, the same energy as his father, and I brace myself for Lexi's sigh, but then comes the sound of a gallop, and Pipin is up and off the porch quicker than either Eliza or I could call for him.
He disappears up the road at a hard run, and within a few minutes the rider breaks from the tree line and Philip is on the horse with him. I am relieved and pleased to see that my husband is the rider. He sets Pip back to the ground and gets down himself. He tilts his riding hat at us and walks the horse toward the porch. I get up and make my way to the railing. He hands the reigns to Pipin for a moment and leans up on the railing to kiss me.
The kiss is fiery, leaves me breathless, and when we part, I see a heavy weight in his gaze. Lexi and Andrew race down from the porch and he embraces each of them as Pip asks, "Where's daddy?"
John smiles down at him and ruffles his dark hair. "He's still working on his big financial plan. I know he misses you very much though."
Noticing the restlessness in his stance, I look to Eliza and say, "Do you think you can watch the children? John and I have some things we need to discuss regarding my correspondence with Thomas."
Eliza's eyes widen for a moment, but she nods and says, "Of course."
John finishes greeting the children and tells them to be good for Auntie Liza, and then we walk to the barn where he sees to Prospero, removing saddle and bridle and then feeding the horse. With the horse settled he finally turns to me, his head lowered, and I approach him, my hands go to his face, and he winces and I do not miss the tears that slip from his tightly closed eyes.
"John?" I ask gently. "What happened? I wasn't expecting you until next weekend."
"Let's go to your room first, I…" he says, and I nod, sensing his heartache, and as we slip into the house from the backdoor and up to my room, I brace myself for my own heartbreak.
Once we are in my room, our room, he takes my face between his hands, kisses me chastely, and leans our foreheads together. "Please… my Angelica… please be able to forgive me."
"John," I say as I pull back and meet his eyes. "I can forgive you almost anything. What has happened?"
I then take his hand and guide him to our bed. I take his hat and coat, then help him with his boots, patiently waiting for him to collect himself and to talk to me. Something has happened and I suspect it has to do with Alexander.
Finally, he takes in a deep breath and meets my gaze, his hazel-green eyes shining with remorse. He licks his bottom lip and I smile encouragingly at him, take his hand in mine as I sit next to him.
"We had dinner last night with Jefferson and Madison," he begins, and I nod, Thomas had mentioned such an arrangement in a letter I had received Wednesday. "Jefferson brought wine. Alexander did not drink much during our dinner, as we talked about his financial plan, working out a compromise to get Jefferson's and Madison's vote and endorsement. After Jefferson and Madison left though, Alex downed another glass and then he kissed me, and I kissed him back. He kisses like a starving man, Angelica."
My breath hitches, but there is more that needs to be said I can tell. "I can imagine, given his passion. He is never satisfied, after all."
He blinks and squeezes my hand, brings it to his lips, kissing my palm, his eyes begging forgiveness as he continues, "He quit the house shortly after that. I was restless after, barely slept. I decided to right things the next morning. I found him at home, and I didn't have the strength to confront him then, and so I returned home where he found me an hour later, near drunk and angry at him, myself…"
"Tell me, John," I encourage.
"He asked my forgiveness for his impulse the night before, and I hit him, I think I may have broken his damn nose actually. He begged, he shoved me, we fought, and then I was on the floor beneath him, and my body was betraying me, wanting him as much as my damn heart still wants him," he says, a sob escapes him and I close my eyes, knowing that very ache as well, our shared ache.
He reaches up, his hand loosening my hair from its pins. "I wanted him so much, he kissed me, he kissed me until I collected my wits and shoved him away. I told him that I was going to ride up here, that I needed him to leave, and that he had work to finish. I needed to get away from him. It seems my strength lies within you. I'm so sorry for my weakness."
I feel the breath leave me as I pull him to me, a smile of relief pulls at my mouth as I am flooded with affection for my husband. "You are here with me now, John. You resisted him, and I know how hard that had to have been. That is strength, that you are here with me, that you chose me. What is there for me to forgive?"
His hands grasp my face and his lips meet mine in benediction, a promise, reaffirmation of his commitment to me, and I return the kiss, accepting his sorrow, his promise, his passion, and commitment.
"I love you, my dearest, compassionate Angelica," he whispers as he pulls back, his hazel gaze darkening with need.
I feel the growing need in me. I pull at his shirt, yanking it open, a couple of buttons fly asunder, I can mend the garment later, for now I want to reclaim what is mine. Alexander be damned, this man is mine.
John's eyes widen marginally, and I make quick work of divesting him of his clothes, my own joining his as I climb back atop him, my hand firm on his chest holding him down. He looks up at me, his eyes alight with curiosity.
I bend down capture his mouth and nip his bottom lip, he sucks in a sharp breath and I trail bites and my teeth down his jaw and throat, nip sharply at his collarbone, following a familiar trail of his freckles as I grind against him, feeling his growing interest.
"You are mine," I growl as I scratch my nails down his chest, marking him.
"Angelica," he says in a groan as my hands trail lower and his hands fall back, and I smile, feral, and when he tries to lean up for a kiss, I firmly push him back down to the bed. He raises a brow in interest.
I lean down against him, my breasts pressed against his chest and I smile, our gazes lock, his eyes and more rising to the challenge I am proposing. "You are mine, and I intend to remind you of this. Submit, John," I whisper, my voice husky with lust.
He licks his bottom lip, my eyes drawn to the movement and his teeth work that lip for a moment before he replies, voice equally husky, "As it satisfies, I am yours."
Please be kind, feed the muse, and leave reviews.