Her body jolted. She screamed out, alternating her pleas for mercy between God and Lucio. He felt her twitch and spasm, which marked the beginning of the end for him, too. Lucio came so hard that the earth seemed to tilt on its axis. The heavens rained down and nature itself roared and rumbled as he emptied his passion into her.

After a few quiet moments, his body jerked involuntarily. Lucio groaned, resting his cheek on Genevieve's damp back, holding on to her tightly. He could feel her heart pound under his palm.

With a great exhalation, Genevieve hung her head, auburn hair spreading out onto the sheets before them.

Bonita?

Hmm?

He caught his breath. Are you?

She had mercy on him, not requiring him to finish his sentence. Yes, she said. Are you?

Yes.

Jesus, Lucio.

He made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

That was

Intense, he offered.

Unreal, she said.

Like nothing I have ever known, mi amor. Lucio began to straighten his body, pulling her with him. He wanted to remain inside her somehow. His plan was to bring them both to their sides, where he could stay inside her while they spooned. His plans changed the instant the bed began to shake. It occurred to him that for several seconds now, HeatherLynn's sharp little bark had been cutting through the night, and car alarms had been going off. Somewhere, glass crackled and rained down. Then the phone rang.

Genevieve stretched out her arm to answer it, pulling away enough that Lucio's cock slid from her body.

Are you guys okay? Thank God. Yes, I'm feeling it. What? This is an aftershock? But I didn't even Genevieve spun around to look at Lucio, a smile breaking across her face. I think we just made the earth move, she whispered.

Lucio smiled back. Their first time together had been an earth-shattering experienceliterallybut they'd been so wrapped up in each other that they hadn't even noticed.

The bed rocked again, harder this time but only for a second. He saw a slight twinge of worry pass across Genevieve's face. It'll be okay, she mouthed to him.

He nodded, trying to remain calm. There was probably worry in his eyes, too, but it had nothing to do with the moderate earthquake they'd just experienced. He'd just noticed the condom had broken.

Genevieve said good night to her sons and hung up the phone. She grinned at Lucio with pure delight, but when she saw he wasn't in the same jovial mood, she frowned. What is it? she asked.

Ah, my love, Lucio said. I'm afraid the earth wasn't the only thing that broke apart tonight.

I always do my best creative work in the middle of the night, Lucio said with a wink, flipping another pancake.

Tell me about it, Ginger said, holding the coffee mug to her lips and leaning back into the kitchen chair. The moment was surreal. It wasn't quite five in the morning. A sexy, shirtless Spaniard was flitting about her kitchen, making enough food for several families, chatting away about his plans for his pet photography business. It was all very creative, indeed.

But her answer had been in reference to the imaginative nature of their six-hour sex-a-thon, which took place in her bed, on the floor, in the shower, and against the wall of the upstairs hallway.

Ginger was supposed to meet Bea, Roxie, and Josie at Dolores Park the next morning, as usual. But she might have to cancel. Because she might not be able to walk.

How many of these do you think you can eat? Lucio said, gesturing to the griddle full of blueberry pancakes.

She laughed. Just a couple, she said, smiling, thinking it was a shame the boys weren't there. Lucio would have an excuse to make as many pancakes as his heart desired.

We still need a catchy name for the company, Lucio said, heading across the kitchen toward Ginger, coffeepot in hand. Do you need a little more cream, love? he asked, taking her cup and refilling it.

I'm good, Ginger said, watching his strikingly handsome face as he concentrated on pouring the hot liquid. She just couldn't stop smiling. She was being spoiled. Absolutely rotten. She glanced down at her little bichon, curled in her lap, and thought, So this must be what it feels like to be HeatherLynn.

Sugar?

No, thanks. But I wouldn't mind another kiss.

Lucio leaned down, planting a sweet kiss on her lips as he caressed the side of her face. You are exhausted, I know.

Exhausted and happy, she said, straining her neck for another touch of his lips. Lucio seemed pleased to oblige. Before he returned to his duties at the griddle, he kissed HeatherLynn on the top of her head, too.

Lucio had been wonderful about the condom mishap. He gently encouraged Ginger to freak out if she needed to, then asked her to tell him everything. Where was she in her cycle? Did she want to get a morning-after pill? Why did she think she was going through menopause? Could she be sure she was no longer fertile?

Ginger wasn't certain about anything. In the last couple of years her periods had been more irregular than usual, which the doctor had told her was normal for her age. She'd never been a twenty-eight-day girl, but lately, it had been all over the map: a tiny spot one month and a heavy flow the next, coming whenever it felt like it.

So she told Lucio she wasn't too concerned and assured him he shouldn't be, either. Then she asked him if they could do it again. And for the next several hours he proceeded to show her everything she'd been missing out on for her entire adult life, careful not to break any more condoms in the process.

We should think about how we'll stage your sitting, Lucio said from the griddle. We will end up using your pose as an example of the kind of custom photography we offer, if it is all right with you.

Ginger grinned. She liked the way he'd been talking about his business as a we proposition. He'd included her in all his brainstorming. She was happy to help him get it off the ground. She was unemployed, after all. And the idea of spending lots of time at Lucio's side had a certain appeal.

Do you have any preference? Ginger asked Lucio. What do you think would suit us? You're the expert.

He thought about that while he finished stacking the pancakes on a plate, which he then placed in the oven to keep warm. He ladled out a second batch. Who would eat them, Ginger had no idea. She could always freeze them, she supposed.

You and your little fluffy dog are both very feminine, he said, waving the spatula around for emphasis. Ginger loved the way he used his hands when he talked, almost as much as she loved watching the muscles of his torso ripple as he moved. I see you both in a the word languido?

Languid? Ginger offered, laughing. A languid pose?

Yes! Perfect. You are reclining. Something luxurious, yes?

Luxury always works for us, she said, raising her coffee cup in approval.

Lucio chuckled. What are your thoughts, bonita? All those years as an editor have made you a visual artist in your own right, yes? So what do you see? How do you envision it?

Ginger took a sip of coffee and cast her eyes downward for a moment. It was startling how Lucio so effortlessly described the essence of her work. Yes, she was a visual artist in addition to being a journalistshe had spent years designing pages and special sections, making words and images fit together in a way that would draw in the reader. What amazed her the most about Lucio's observation was that she'd known him for just weeks, yet he understood more about her job than Larry had in seventeen years of marriage. Ginger stroked HeatherLynn's poofy hair, thinking she liked having a boyfriend who was an artist, someone who could create something from nothing, the way she did.