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“Well, if you two can disentangle enough for a quick little consultation…”
We pull away from each other. Olivia’s cheeks are red. Me, I’m admittedly a little smug. Let the good doctor watch. Hell, bring in all the nurses and the women from the waiting room and let them watch, too.
Olivia is mine.
This baby is mine.
The whole damn world can see how much I love them.
43
REESE
From there, things run smoothly. Dr. Lee asks about Olivia’s eating, how she typically feels during her pregnancy versus how she felt before, blah blah blah. I’m just vibrating with joy the whole time. By the time we’re done in the office, we’ve got a meal plan to shop for, some good suggestions to help Olivia sleep more comfortably as the baby grows, and some baby-safe snacking that she can do when she hits hard cravings.
We swing by a Dairy Queen on the way back to the penthouse. An Oreo Brookie Blizzard for her and a Rocky Road for me. Olivia keeps the ice cream cups pressed up against the car’s A/C vents so the tyrannical Dallas heat doesn’t turn it all to sludge.
As we get into the penthouse elevator to take us up, Olivia’s already digging into her treat. She does a cute, wiggly little dance in place, spooning a fat dollop of ice cream and cookie chunks onto her tongue. A white dribble slips from her lip down her chin. Her tongue darts out, pink and wet, to catch the drip.
It’s gotta be weird, being so sexually attracted to a pregnant woman. In the lizard brain, she’s already pregnant, right? So the drive should go away. In theory.
But my lower gut tightens seeing the display. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted Olivia more than I have during these weeks that she’s been carrying my child.
Before she can clean the whole of the drip from her chin, I lean down and take things into my own hands.
Or into my own mouth, rather.
Flicking my tongue over it, I trail the tip up to her lips. It feels like it’s been forever since we’ve had this. I’m instantly rock-hard and thirsty for more of her.
But I don’t press the issue the way I would have once upon a time. As happy as I am, as horny as I am, we’ve still got issues lingering between us.
So if she pulls away? If she says no?
As fucking impossibly hard as it may be, I’ll give her the space she needs.
But the “no” never comes. Instead, her body relaxes, melting into mine. Like the heat of me is doing to her what the heat of the Dallas sun did to our ice creams. She presses into me, the fullness of her breasts heavy against my chest. The scent of her body wash wafts up into my nose. I growl and my teeth come down on her lip, biting, drawing her in closer with a hunger that has no end.
“Fuck, Olivia. I want you.”
“Reese…”
She wraps her arms around my shoulders, pulling me tight into her. She keeps a precarious hold on her Blizzard, but I barely pay attention to mine as I back her into the elevator wall. My cock strains against my jeans. I rock against her, making sure she can feel my hardness seeking her.
The whine she lets out goes straight to my cock. Her thighs spread out, inviting me in. I scoop her up and tuck those legs around my hips.
“We’re having a baby boy,” I breathe against her mouth, grinding into her center.
“Mm—Reese we’re in the elevator?—”
“Don’t give a flying fuck.”
Neither does she, apparently. Her ankles lock behind me, keeping us pinned together. It’s only our layers of clothes that keep us from fucking right here and now. My palms itch to rip the denim away for daring to get between me and that sweet, beautiful pussy of hers. I can practically taste it already. A helluva lot better than ice cream, that’s for damn sure.
But instead, I behave.
Mostly.
I work my mouth from her lips down to her jaw. I leave bites in my trail all the way to her throat, where I suck and nibble aggressively against her pulse. I need to mark her. She’ll hate that, but goddamn, I’ll love seeing those love bruises and hickeys on her skin.
