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Blinking in the bleached sunlight of a fading December afternoon, Cloud smiled as he strutted the short distance from the garage to the front door of Seventh Heaven, shoulders back, bare arms swinging. He didn’t sing, but the howling wind seemed to serenade him with strains of a well-known chorus.
Joy to the world, the Lord is come!
Let earth receive her king!
He was home early.
There were still two glorious full days left before the madness of the Yule holiday. Two! But though he’d seen miles of lights and holly strung all over town and the winter breeze swirled around him with a biting cold that dried out his eyes and stung like needles in his nostrils, there wasn’t a speck of snow in sight. It never snowed in Edge. Cloud hadn’t seen snow since his brief tour of the Northern Crater, five years ago, before the fledgling city had ever existed.
He smiled at the wreath Tifa had hung on their front door. It reminded him of the one Mom had dug out year after year when he was a kid. Not as shabby as hers, but simple, a circle of green boughs speckled with clusters of berries like scarlet beads, tiny white flowers, and miniature silver bells, all held in the twining embrace of a broad ribbon striped like a candy cane, tied at the bottom in a large curling bow. He and Tifa, along with their closest friends, were the only souls who’d ever know the significance of the wide streak of pink running through the ribbon’s center.
More bells jingled when he pushed the door open, and lush warm air slapped his frozen cheeks like a hot towel. His nose wrinkled. Seventh Heaven was unusually redolent with spices and something like burnt toast. A smattering of customers chatted and sipped tea around crimson-draped tables, but the stools at the bar sat empty, and the area behind it was dominated by a petite young woman in a cropped red sweater, loud plaid shorts, and red-and-white striped stockings up to her knees. She turned and flipped him a saucy grin.
“Well, look who’s all smiley today!” Yuffie chirped, wiping powdery smears down the black apron that partially relieved his eyes from her blinding outfit. “You’re back early.”
“Hello to you, too.” Cloud swung his zippered travel bag onto the counter, his smile fading. “Is that a crime now, being early?”
She cocked an eyebrow. “No, but dumping your crap all over the bar is.”
“I live here.” He peered over her shoulder into the kitchen, sniffing the air. “What’s that smell? Did you burn ramen noodles again?”
“Geez, Cloud! Have a little faith! There are no burnt offerings in the Kisaragi confectionery. I’ve been baking ninja-bread cookies.”
“Ninja—wait, what?”
“Ninja-bread!” she repeated with a triumphant toss of her bobbed head. “Fresh from the oven! Here, check ’em out!”
And with that, she brandished a tray of dark contorted shapes, which on closer inspection appeared to be knob-headed stick men frozen in flying jumps, high kicks, and other flamboyant, distinctly Yuffie-like poses.
Cloud raised his eyes to hers with a frown. “They supposed to be black?”
“Gingerbread dough is brown,” she informed him. “They’re just a little bit dark. Besides, real ninjas wear black. They’ve gotta be stealthy, you know.”
“I see. Sounds like the opposite of you.”
Yuffie snorted. “The White Rose of Wutai doesn’t need black to be stealthy. Here, try one.” She shoved the tray at him.
“No thanks. I don’t wanna be asking Santa for my two front teeth this year.” Cloud turned, scanning the room impatiently. “Where’s Tifa? Wasn’t my intent to leave you unsupervised in the kitchen.”
“I thought you wanted us to come so your preggo wifey could get some rest.”
“Not that much rest. You know her. She’s gonna go stir-crazy if she’s got nothing to keep her busy.”
Yuffie shrugged. “Well, I made her take a break. She’s with Nanaki right now. And anyway, she thinks she’s too fat to work the bar.”
Cloud nearly hopped the counter. “What?”
“Hey!” Yuffie held up her hands and backed away as if he’d pulled a knife on her. “Don’t murder the messenger! Those were her words, not mine.”
“She’s crazy.”
“Why don’t you go tell her that, then?”
“I will.”
“Good. They’re probably cuddling by the fire. You want in on that, right?” she said with a smirk.
“Humph.” Cloud shouldered his bag and stalked past her to the door at the rear of the kitchen. Maybe later, without Nanaki around…
“What I thought.” Yuffie laughed. “See ya later!”
Cloud sighed quietly, shaking his head. He’d been congratulating himself on the rare genius idea he’d hatched, inviting a couple of old friends to keep Tifa company while he was away, but now he was starting to wonder if he’d been too clever for his own good.
He entered the hallway that led to their living quarters and passed into an enchanting world of plush and firelight.
Long and arduous as they were, Cloud’s recent trips to the southern islands had done some good. With the extra funds, he and Tifa had finally been able to carry out their plans to remodel Seventh Heaven. In the past several weeks they’d added a living area downstairs with a ring of comfy chairs and couches, a fireplace, and a wide-screen TV, with a small guest suite attached that Yuffie had just become the first to occupy. Directly above, on the second floor, they’d built two new bedrooms. Denzel had moved into one as soon as the paint was dry, and he’d helped Cloud paint the other one soft blue for the baby.
It was a boy. There wasn’t a shred of doubt on that score. The wriggly little guy had flaunted his manhood for all to see during the ultrasound, that surreal, distorted window into the miraculous that put on full display one more amazing thing Tifa’s body could do. That had been over a month ago. Now they were playing around with names, but nothing seemed to fit.
Cloud didn’t know how to tell Tifa which name he really wanted. He’d been hoping she’d think of it first. So far, no one else in their family or circle of friends had suggested it.
Just as Yuffie had predicted, Tifa was curled up on the shaggy new rug in front of the fireplace with Nanaki, reclining with her head on his red flank as she’d done in the past. Cloud tried not to stare. Her fuzzy, cream-colored tunic sweater and black wool leggings flattered her gorgeous figure, to which the baby bump seemed a temporary but not unattractive accessory, and her heavy dark hair tumbled over one shoulder, tied in a low ponytail with a festive plaid ribbon. Even in ordinary clothes she was stunning, radiant, both from the fire and the glow of pregnancy. Nanaki, perhaps owing to the longevity of his species, hadn’t changed at all.
Two sets of eyes looked up as Cloud approached them, a single greenish gold and a pair of deep wine-red.
“Cloud.” Tifa’s smile was brilliant, while Nanaki nodded a silent greeting. “You’re home early.”
“So I’ve been told,” he replied, plopping his bag down on the floor. “Did I interrupt something?”
“Nothing important,” said Nanaki with his usual tact; Cloud often thought the dignified creature possessed better manners than most humans. “Tifa was telling me stories about winter in her hometown.”
“Oh.” Cloud felt a twinge of sadness. “I know all about that.”
“Don’t you miss the snow?” Tifa asked him.
He shrugged. “A little. I don’t think I’d like to drive in it, though.”
“Me, either. But we didn’t have to worry about things like that when we were kids.”
“True.”
“I never saw snow until we went to the Icicle region,” Nanaki said in a wistful tone. “It was a sad time for us, but we still had fun, didn’t we? I hadn’t felt that frisky since I was a cub.”
“You were so funny,” Tifa said, running an affectionate hand through his short scarlet fur. “Jumping and rolling all over the place. You knocked poor Yuffie flat on her butt. Remember, Cloud?”
“Yeah,” Cloud said absently. He tried to force a smile at the memory of Nanaki’s puppyish antics in the snow, but his lower lip had already betrayed him, edging forward in a sullen pout. He felt oddly excluded.
Years ago, Tifa had bonded with Yuffie and Nanaki after Aerith’s death. They’d been the ones to fill the void she had left when Cloud was too entrenched in his own mental turmoil to be of any help. The two were closest to Tifa in age, and they all understood each other surprisingly well.
Now, as he watched them together, Cloud recalled, with a sudden pang, how he’d yearned to be near Tifa in those dark and lonely days—how his skin had screamed to touch her again, to hold and be held by her. After their one soul-satisfying embrace that night in Aerith’s garden, they’d gotten close in Cosmo Canyon, but not close enough, never close enough. Drowning in a black vortex of terror, confusion, and guilt, no longer sure of his own identity, let alone his deepest needs and wants, he hadn’t had a clue how to approach her. Sometimes he still didn’t.
But right here, in this moment, there was one thing he knew he wanted. He took two swift strides across the rug, knelt in front of her, and kissed her lightly on the lips. Though he was usually too bashful to show her physical affection around their friends, Nanaki, at least, was always polite enough to look the other way. Even so, his cheeks had already gotten much too warm for him to blame it entirely on the fire.
“Missed you,” Tifa whispered, clutching at the front of his sweater as his lips fell away from hers.
“Missed you, too.” Cloud cleared his throat as he quickly rose—why did she always smell so damn good after he’d been gone for a week? Her signature vanilla, blended with something temptingly tropical, sultry and sun-kissed.
“I brought you something,” he said between breaths, unzipping a compartment in the side of his bag. “They came all the way here from Under Junon, and they’re still perfectly chilled.” He pulled out something wrapped in white paper.
“Shrimp rolls!” Tifa clasped her hands together. “Wow, thanks for swinging by there—you know I’ve been craving those.”
“Yep.”
But then her expression dimmed. “I’m still stuffed from lunch, though. Yuffie made Happy Turtle burgers. Can you put them in the fridge for me?”
Happy Turtle burgers? Cloud caught himself pouting again. “Sure.”
As he returned from the kitchenette at the other end of the room, his eyes flitted to the Yule tree that towered in a corner, lights racing and twinkling amid various homemade ornaments Marlene and Denzel had pasted together out of colored paper and coated with vast amounts of glitter. “Where are the kids?” he asked.
“Barret took them out to the new Icicle Lodge, actually. They left a few days ago. They’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Oh.”
The new Icicle Lodge. Of course. Evan Townshend, a kid they’d met around the time of the Geostigma crisis, had mentioned a fire there on one of his visits. He still came in on occasion, usually with his girlfriend, Kyrie, a former con artist he and Tifa had first run across in the slums, and a boy Denzel’s age whom the young couple had adopted. Apparently the Turks had relocated all the residents, none of whom had been harmed, and later headed up the project to rebuild the village. Cloud had made a few deliveries there throughout the stages of its completion. It was now a thriving tourist attraction, but there was no restoring it to its former rustic charm.
“By the way,” Tifa went on, with a sideways glance at Nanaki, “it’s a good thing you’re here. We’re almost out of chocolate chips and Marlene really wanted to make a batch of chocolate-dipped shortbread cookies tomorrow.”
“No biggie. I’ll go get some right now.”
“Ah, but there’s a slight problem,” Nanaki said. “All the local markets are completely sold out. Yuffie and I already checked.”
“You’re serious?” Cloud looked at Tifa.
“Yeah.” She drew in a quick breath. “So… I was thinking maybe you could run over to Sweet Nothings.”
Cloud executed a pout of dangerous proportions. “That’s all the way in Kalm,” he protested. “It’ll take me a couple hours to get there and back.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright.” Then a suspicion dawned, and his brows climbed upward. “Chocolate? For Marlene?”
Tifa smiled and ducked her head. “Mostly.”
“Okay.” Cloud sighed in defeat. If chocolate was their hearts’ desire, then to Kalm he would go. “Guess I’ll be back for dinner, then.”
“Don’t worry,” Nanaki assured him, a curious sparkle in his gold eye. “We’ll be here to keep her company.”
Cloud nodded and left the room, shoulders drooping. He’d just ridden in from a week-long trip and she was sending him away before Fenrir’s engine had cooled.
“Going somewhere?” Yuffie inquired as he strode through the kitchen to the front exit.
“Yeah. Tifa sent me to Kalm to get some chocolate.”
“Ah.” She tipped him a knowing smile. “You’d better get going, then! Gotta indulge those mommy cravings!”
Cloud rolled his eyes, shoving himself through the jingling door out into the cold. What the hell was going on? Yuffie, assuming the position of maturity, as if she had full charge of Tifa’s well-being? And Nanaki, acting like a house pet? This wasn’t what he’d dreamed of coming home to.
Kalm was pretty like a postcard for the holidays, all wreathed in green and gold and dancing lights. Cloud found himself lingering a bit longer than he normally would have, wandering from shop to shop, feeling like a kid again.
Tifa would have loved it. Too bad her pregnancy made it unsafe for her to ride on the back of Fenrir. Next on his list of important purchases was a decent family vehicle, and then they could start taking short trips together. They’d need Barret and Yuffie to stay with the kids, of course, and somehow keep Seventh Heaven running without its main attraction. At least Barret now wore the less intimidating silver hand whenever he was in town, and Yuffie was good at keeping customers entertained, if little else.
These days, the only time they had with each other was at home, when the kids were in bed, the bar was closed, and Tifa hadn’t already crashed from exhaustion. He wanted more. But that wouldn’t happen anytime soon, not with Yuffie and Nanaki hanging around. And Barret and the kids back tomorrow… no hope for any kind of quiet.
Shortly before sunset, a brutal, icy wind raced in from the northwest. Cloud returned from his errands a few minutes before six, chilled to the bone, clutching a precious plastic bag to his chest. Directly above Tifa’s wreath, a handwritten sign flapped: Seventh Heaven was closed for the holidays.
Well, that wasn’t entirely out of the ordinary. They often closed the bar for special occasions. Cloud pushed the door open, expecting to find Tifa and Yuffie chatting in the kitchen, putting the final touches on dinner.
The bells jingled in his ears, and a thrilling voice said, “Hi.”
Cloud reeled drunkenly at the vision before him. He nearly dropped the bag.
Tifa stood behind the bar, alone, a shy smile wavering on her lips. The clingy cream sweater had been replaced with something even more flattering—a rose-red gown with long sleeves and a plunging V-neckline, made out of a stretchy, velvety material that conformed to all her curves.
“Cloud?” she said, amusement dancing in her ruby eyes.
Cloud closed his mouth and swallowed. “Uh…” His heart was thumping. His eyes didn’t know which way to look. “You’re all dressed up,” he blurted, as if it wasn’t the most obvious thing in the world. “Should I change?”
“No, I like you in black. How do I look?” She turned from side to side with her arms outstretched.
“R-ravishing,” he stammered, flames climbing up his neck and roasting his cheeks. He’d just noticed the lacy top of a sheer white stocking, wrapped around the middle of her thigh, peeking through a slit in the side of her gown. He shuffled his feet as his blood began to pool in low places.
Tifa blushed, obviously pleased. “I almost didn’t put this on. I thought it made me look fat.”
“No way,” Cloud said fiercely. It was true she’d put on a healthy amount of weight in the past six months. But pregnancy had added other new dimensions to Tifa, and he found every one of them appealing. Her beauty, somehow even more luxuriant, inviting, like a delicious piece of fruit that ripened in tandem with her growing sexual appetite. And the fact that she carried his child inside her body, which not only stamped her as his own but bore witness to the power of her natural femininity, that unique strength inherent to womanhood, with a lavish sense of nurturing implied in the fullness of her breasts. In short, she was more irresistible than ever. But he didn’t know how to tell her this without sounding weird, so he didn’t elaborate.
Her grateful smile dazzled him. “If you think so, I won’t worry about it. Now let’s get on with our date.”
“Date?”
“Yes, Cloud. This is a date.”
“I’m not objecting.” He felt a small thrill as she took him by the hand and led him to the back of the kitchen and through the hallway to the living room. Her current of midnight hair flowed down past her waist, unbound, moving with the hypnotic sway of her walk.
The fire still blazed in the stone fireplace that reminded them both of home, safe behind glass doors. There was no other light except for two white pillar candles in brass holders, waving miniature flames over a table for two, with a crimson tablecloth and a pair of inverted ceramic bowls keeping some mysterious food warm on white porcelain plates. Faint piano music poured from a speaker somewhere, a romantic tune Cloud thought he might have heard years ago.
“Wow,” he said, perching his hands on the back of a chair. “This is really nice.”
“Thanks.”
“Did you do all this?”
“It was my idea, but Yuffie and Nanaki helped me set it all up. They’re out roaming the town right now.” She smiled. “We have the whole house to ourselves for the next six hours.”
Cloud’s pulse sped up, and he experienced a giddy sensation of floating. Suddenly, it all made sense.
“You guys were planning this all along, then?” he asked.
“Yup. We were just about to start fixing dinner when you showed up. I know you called this morning, but none of us expected you back so early. So… I had to think of a way to get you out of the house. I’m sorry.” Tifa laid a hand on his upper arm. “Maybe I should’ve been up front with you, but I really wanted to surprise you. The story about the chocolate was true, though.”
“Don’t worry about it. I figured you were craving it, anyway.”
“Yeah, but still.” She dropped her hand, looking guilty.
“Hey, cravings are just your body telling you what it needs, right?”
She laughed. “My body needs chocolate?”
“Sure it does. And… other things, too,” he added suggestively.
“Oh, yeah?” Tifa took a playful step toward him, eyes smoldering. “What else have you got for me, Cloud Strife?”
Her look made his cheeks flame again. “I’ll show you later.” Lowering his gaze to the table once more, he examined the centerpiece, a bouquet of white lilies like the ones Aerith used to grow at the big house in Sector Five, then lifted the rim of one of the bowls and raked a disbelieving eye over the food underneath. It looked like a seafood dish, and it smelled delicious. “Yuffie made this?”
Tifa laughed. “No, I did. She helped a little, though.”
“Hopefully not too much.”
“C’mon, she’s not that bad. Almost as good as you.”
Cloud gave a hearty chuckle. Then his eyes landed on the fluted wine glasses bearing a pale yellow liquid, and he frowned.
“Sparkling grape juice, of course,” said Tifa.
“Nice. So, uh… what d’you wanna do after dinner?”
“Oh…” She linked her hands behind her back and toed the hardwood floor. “I thought we could watch sappy movies and snuggle by the fire.”
“I’m not cuddly like Nanaki,” he teased.
“Oh, yes, you are. I’ve been waiting to get down by the fire with you. You’re my favorite snuggle buddy.”
A tingly explosion took place inside his chest. “Why don’t we do it right now, then?”
“I’d love to.”
Cloud shrugged off the Fusion Sword and stood it against the wall. Tifa kicked off her white kitten heels and made him remove his boots.
The fluffy oval rug in front of the fireplace, hand-tufted in silky shades of ivory, beige, and camel wool, had come from an artisan in Sector Five of Midgar. Cloud had bartered several favors for it, including one week of unlimited drinks from Seventh Heaven. The day it was delivered, Marlene and Denzel had lounged on it in their stocking feet for hours, rolling and flopping around, imitating Tifa doing Master Zangan’s exercises, watching cartoons on TV.
It wasn’t hard to understand why. As Cloud sank down on the rug, it was like sinking into a patch of the softest grass, or a compressed pile of feathers. He reclined backward on his hands and stretched out his legs, scissoring them through the chunky strands.
He scooted closer to the glass doors of the stone fireplace. Behind them, he could still hear the roar and crackle of the flashing orange flames, and the sounds washed over him, relaxing him. Tifa settled in between his legs, drawing up her knees to one side. One by one, she helped him peel the stiff leather gloves from his hands, massaging his fingers as she did so. Then she leaned into his chest, her head rolling back into the curve of his shoulder. His cheek rested on the crown of her head, while the fragrant masses of her hair cascaded to the floor and caressed his skin like the brush of angel’s wings. He folded his arms across her in a tight embrace, holding her close to his heart.
Everything was warm and drowsy and dark. The steady glow of the fire at his back and the living heat of her body against his front were filling a void inside him he hadn’t even realized was there, filling him to overflowing.
Tifa. She was here in his arms at last. He could hold her whenever he wanted. There was no need to feel lost or alone. Those days of desolate wandering were over now, no matter how many times they came back to haunt him.
Still, reunion was sweet. Being away from her always felt like losing her, and coming back always felt like finding her for the first time. He hoped it would never change—but for now, all he wanted was to stay right here and hold her.
He shifted slightly, and something crinkled next to his knee.
“Oh,” he said, picking up the plastic bag. “I almost forgot.”
“The chocolate?” said Tifa. “We should get it out of the heat before it melts.”
“In a minute. I’ve got something else for you. Here.” He pulled out a roundish parcel the size of a Materia wrapped in red and green striped paper and passed it to her.
Tifa gasped. “Ooh, it’s heavy.” She turned it round and round in her hands before peeling the paper off. Her beautiful eyes went wide. “Oh!”
It was a snow globe, featuring a row of old-fashioned cottages nestled in the embrace of snow-capped mountains. Cloud had found it in a gift shop in Kalm—the owner had helped him out of a tight spot once, so he’d decided to stop by for a holiday greeting. Her heaps of kitschy trinkets had never interested him before. But this, standing alone on a shelf… he’d immediately known it was something special.
“You said you missed the snow, so I thought I’d bring you some,” he said. “Sorry it’s not the real thing.” The apology came without a second thought; he’d bring her the stars if he could.
“Oh, Cloud, it’s beautiful.”
“Turn it over,” he urged, trying not to wiggle like a little boy in his excitement.
Tifa flipped the globe and stared at its underside. Engraved in the dark wood base were the words:
NIBELHEIM VILLAGE
An artist’s name was etched underneath, followed by a date some twenty years prior.
“I can’t believe it,” Tifa said in a hushed voice. “My mom had one exactly like this. I just recognized it. She put it up on the mantel every winter.”
“I know. I recognized it, too. That guy, whoever he was… he must have made a bunch of them. And sold them everywhere. I’ve seen tons of old snow globes in Henrietta’s shop, but this was the only one that looked like… our home.”
“It is our home… or, it was. Twenty years ago, before everything changed. Shinra could never replicate it, not exactly. I want to remember it like this forever.” Tifa shook the globe and set it upright in her palm, and they both watched thousands of tiny, feathery flakes swirl and settle all over the miniature town and the mountains beyond.
“So,” Cloud said after a minute, “what were you telling Nanaki earlier, about winter back home?”
“Oh…” Tifa rotated the snow globe again. “Just playing in the snow, mostly. And Yule stuff, too… you know, like all the things my mom used to bake.”
“Yeah, I remember. She brought me and my mom a plate of cookies every year, as long as she was alive. And my mom would always make hot cocoa. I’d sit by the fire and drink it while I listened to the radio… I didn’t go outside that much.” He gazed into the rippling flames. “One time I watched you and the other kids having a snowball fight in the square. It looked like fun.”
“It was, but they played a little too rough. I got hit in the face way too many times.”
“I know. I punched Lester in the mouth the next time I saw him, for that.”
Tifa sighed. “Not my favorite memory.”
“Mine, either.”
“I do miss the snow, though. Sometimes. But not the cold. I’ve never felt anything like it since that time at the Crater.” Cloud felt a shiver run through her. “My bones will never forget it.”
“I’ll keep you warm,” he said.
He twined his arms around her once more, squeezing, wishing he could enfold her like the warmest blanket, heat up her blood like the fiercest flame.
With her head nestled so sweetly in the crook of his shoulder, it didn’t take him long to find her mouth. They exchanged slow, lazy, sensual kisses in the firelight, his greedy hands roaming down her velvety front, grasping, clutching. She bent one arm upward to cradle his head and locked her fingers in his hair, making noises low in her throat, the kind that always drove him wild.
“Are you hungry?” she murmured, resting a hand on his cheek.
“No… except for this…” He dipped his head and feasted on her smooth neck.
“Me, either. I broke down and ate those rolls you brought me. They were so good.”
Cloud gazed at her through heavy lids. “In the mood for something sweet?”
“Mmm… sweeter than you?”
His cheeks warmed. “Close your eyes.”
He groped inside the bag for the package of chocolate, tore it open, and popped a single morsel into her mouth, watching her savor it. Then he kissed her again, teasing her lips apart, tasting. The extra punch of sweetness hit him like fire in his veins. Her hum of satisfaction buzzed on his lips, her lashes fluttering against his cheek as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in tight.
“Warm enough?” he murmured into the pink shell of her ear.
“Yeah,” she breathed. “You?”
“A little hot, actually…”
Tifa walked two fingers all the way up to the zipper on his sweater and slowly dragged it downward. He let out a hiss at the touch of her cool hand on his bare chest.
“It was so cold at the Northern Crater,” she said softly. “I had a coat, but my legs were freezing. I remember wishing my stockings were made of wool.”
“I miss those black stockings. I never got to take them off you.” Blushing, Cloud slipped a finger beneath the white lace at the top of her thigh. A short quill of hair clung to the translucent nylon. He held it up to the flickering light with his thumb and forefinger, squinting. It was a dark, burnished red.
“That’s Nanaki’s,” Tifa said. “He’s been sleeping on this rug all week. Guess he sheds a little.”
“Oh.” Cloud flicked the hair away with a grimace. “Wanna go upstairs?”
“No. I wanna stay right here.”
“Me, too.” He glanced around the room. “I’ll get a blanket.”
He retrieved a plaid tasseled throw from one of the couches and spread it out over the rug. Tifa sat back on her heels next to the fire, watching. As soon as he’d finished, she leaned toward him on her hands and knees and pointed to the blanket.
“On your back,” she ordered, a tiny smirk on her lips.
A jolt of liquid heat erupted at his center. “Yes, ma’am.”
Heart pounding, he stretched out on the floor, the thick rug cushioning his shoulders and hips with unexpected softness. Tifa pulled up the red folds of her skirt and straddled his legs with her round belly pressed up to the front of his pants. He shifted into her with a sigh, letting his itchy fingers gravitate once more to the band of lace that circled her thigh, tugging gently. Eyes half-mast in a sultry stare, she snaked her hands down the skin of his torso, winding in slow, languorous paths, red lips smiling at his shudder of pleasure as she dipped below his waistband. Halfway through loosening his belt buckle, she let out a giggle.
“What?”
“He’s gonna know what we did in here,” she said with a sheepish grin. “Nothing gets past that nose of his.”
Cloud had to laugh. “Oh, well. They all got more than a whiff of us, five years ago. It shouldn’t be a surprise. Besides,” he added, laying his palm on the curve of her belly, “we kind of made a kid.”
Tifa spread her hand over his. “Well, at any rate, I don’t think I’ll be cuddling with him on this rug anymore.”
“No need. You’ve got me now.”