The Target

much. I think a yell is coming."

    He clapped one hand over her mouth and she yelled against his palm, wondering if she were going to die, knowing she wouldn't, and never wanting the incredible, shattering feelings to stop. When she slumped back, quivering as the aftershocks of that wild pleasure continued to careen through her, he came inside her, deeper inside, until he was sealed to her. He froze over her, and in that instant, the knowledge that he was finally where he belonged, that she was his wife and his lover until they both left the earth, plucked him up, making him dizzy and hot, then shattered through him. He'd never realized there could be such a binding force in the world as what he was feeling now. He'd wanted Emma, wanted her safe, and he still did. Always it had been Emma and then, only after Emma, Molly had been in his mind. Now he didn't know. One thing he did know was that he hadn't expected being this consumed until there was nothing inside him but Molly and what she was making him feel. He shuddered like a palsied man as he climaxed deep inside this woman he'd known for less than two months, this woman who'd been married to a rock star and was the daughter of a gangster. Who knew about life?

    Molly slowly opened her eyes only when she was certain she'd continue breathing if she tried such a violent movement. Nothing happened. She blinked. Nothing continued to happen. She concentrated on returning to life as she knew it. She couldn't believe the utter dizzying pleasure

    "No, you're wrong. I'm dead serious." "All right, but I don't know what you're talking about. What do you think?"

    "I think being with you was beyond superb. It was so wonderful, maybe it should be taxed."

    He nearly lost it right there. He gulped. He took a quick drink of his coffee and scalded his mouth. Then he clearly remembered how she felt and nearly shuddered his way off his chair.

    Emma looked up from her printing and said, "What's my last name now, Mama?"

    Ramsey looked at Molly, sex forgotten, sudden fierce possessiveness in his voice as he said, "I'd like you to be Emma Hunt now. What do you think?" "Could you print it out for me, Ramsey?" He took her pencil and wrote out Emma Hunt. Emma went to work. She said finally, looking back up, "It looks pretty good all written out. It's okay with me." She held up the paper for them to see.

    Both Ramsey and Molly examined her effort. Ramsey said, "Well done, even good enough so I can read it. Emma Hunt. It has a ring to it." Emma grinned and went back to her printing. Ramsey lowered his voice. "I'm sorry, Molly. We never discussed it, but I want this very badly. I want Emma to be mine, legally and every other way as well."

    "I'm torn," she said, cutting another slice of her grapefruit. "Louey wasn't ever around, but he was her father. It's like he'll cease to exist now."

    "Let me ask you a question. If Louey were still alive and you'd divorced him and then married me, what would you decide?"

    She forked down the grapefruit, then picked up a piece of wheat toast. She said quietly, so Emma couldn't hear, "I'd say he was a bum and never even wanted to see Emma anyway. Maybe I'd say he didn't deserve for her to carry a name that meant so little." She shook her head. "But because he's dead, I feel she needs to hold on to something. How about Emma Santera Hunt? We could ask Dr. Loo, but that sounds like a good idea."

    "Emma will always know that he was her father." Ramsey asked Emma what she thought of having three whole names. Emma approved.

    Molly said, "Are you going to eat your bacon, Ramsey?"

    "No, you take it. You need to keep up your strength. I'm brimming with strength. The more times a man gets jumped, the stronger he gets. He gets pumped up. All his muscles start to flex. His fortitude increases exponentially. I can't wait to prove it to you."

    "How do you think it looks, Mama?"

    Molly looked away from her new husband, wishing she could fling herself on top of him and screw his brains out. "Ah, Em, let's see. Ah, you've printed it another six times. Each is better. Very good, love. Oh yes, that looks just grand. When you start the first grade this fall, you'll be Emma Santera Hunt."

    "Miss Emma Santera Hunt," Emma said. "I won't be a Ms. until I'm eighteen."

    Molly looked over at Ramsey, who knew what she'd been thinking. "And I'll be Mrs. Molly Hunt."

    "That makes all of us Hunts," Emma said happily, then frowned. "I never even thought about a Hunt before