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I reluctantly loosen my grip, stealing one more lungful before clearing my throat and backing away. “Sorry.”
“It’s just that … I wasn’t sure if you were aware, but, um …” She gives up and shifts her position against me, and I inhale sharply through my teeth at the contact.
Seriously,whydoes she feel so good? What is happening to me?
“It seems that some of you wakes up before the rest.”
I bite my lip and cringe behind her. “Right. Well, I’d apologize, but I can’t exactly help it.”
She giggles. “I understand. I just figured you’d want to know, since you promised no funny business and all.”
“Did I?” I inadvertently grind against her again, making myself groan. I really am a glutton for punishment when it comes to her.
“Yep, pretty sure you did,” she replies, her voice squeaky.
“Then you’d better scoot, little spoon,” I murmur near her ear. “Because I’m about to get real funny.”
One more second, then I’ll quit. But then she lets out a soft moan, and I just about lose it.
“Loren,” I breathe, my hand creeping around her stomach and inching up beneath the hem of her tank top. “I mean it.” Then I press my lips to the silky skin at the back of her neck.
She responds by arching her back slightly, and I curse under my breath. “As a newly established hormone factory, I’m pretty sure I cannot be trusted as the voice of reason anymore,” she finally returns as she reaches around and clutches at me, urging me to push back again.
“Gah, why do you have to feel so amazing?” My voice is deep and husky, and she digs her fingertips into my backside in response. “This is your last warning, Reed,” I tell her, pulling her earlobe in between my lips and dragging my hands away. Then I force my hips to retreat for a second until I can make sure she’s a willing participant.
“We probably shouldn’t,” she whispers, but she sounds very unconvinced.
“I’m trying my best to restrain myself here, but Ireallyneed a clear yes or no answer in the next few seconds.” My thumb is hooked beneath the elastic of my boxers, ready for the starting gun. I don’t know whether I’ve built up our last time together in my mind or the pregnancy thing is an unexpected turn on, but I’ve never felt a desire this strong. The rubber band holding me back is stretching beyond its breaking point, and I’m about to snap.
“I … I, uh …” she stutters for a second, and I hold my breath.
Beep–beep–beep
Both of our phones begin blaring out an alarm at the same time, and she rolls away from me to silence hers.
“Ugh,” I groan loudly, shifting to lie on my back and rub a hand over my face. Then I reach over to snooze the alarm on my side.
I turn to find her sitting up now, her eyes wide and her chest heaving. “You. Stay over there,” she demands.
I throw my head back against the pillow and laugh. “I’m sorry,” I say after a while. “Maybe you should be the big spoon from now on.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t be spooning at all,” she suggests, and my face falls. The last thing I want is a repeat of the last time we woke up together.
“Frenemies can share a bed, can’t they?”
“I don’t think that’s the normal protocol.”
“What about when they’re already having a baby together?” The words slip out before I can help it.
She blinks a few times. “Are we?”
I sit up and scoot close enough for her shoulder to rest against my arm, because I can’t shake the need to touch her. “I thought we both saw the evidence last night.”
“I mean, together. Are we doing thistogether?”
I mull her question over in my mind. “If by together you mean that you’re going to grow and give birth to our baby while I drive you to doctor’s appointments and hang around in case you have a late-night craving, then, yeah. I’d like to, anyway.”
“But not like, as a couple, right?”
