My husband then grabs my shoulder and pulls me up till he's crushed against my back. The difference this time is that he's banging Milo. Darren runs his fingers down my sides and then over Milo's tummy. “Doesn't he feel wonderful, wife?”
“Yes,” I mutter.
Darren's voice becomes more deeper. “He feels like one of us.”
Milo glances up at us, and there's no disputing that his heart is in his eyes this time. He stares at us as if we're a feast he'll never be able to enjoy. We seem faraway, rather than right here with him. He grabs both of my hips. “Don't speak nonsense like that.”
“Even if I really mean it?” Darren makes a strong shove, elevating Milo and myself a few inches. In return, we all complain. It's much too wonderful.
Milo doesn't respond, which is probably for the best. We deter
