Page 36 of Collide

“I’m buying my girl her first outfit.”

“Gage,” I warn, my shoulders falling. He’s too good. Too sweet.

“Look, Ivy. No matter what, that girl belongs to me. To us. The band. We’re all going to love her.” I lower even more with that thought. He’s talking about the guys as a whole. The band as a unit. Collectively, they’ll love the baby. Her. And selfishly, I wonder who will love me like that.

I smile weakly, holding back the burn in my nose and the sting in my eyes. Of course, I want my child to be loved by many. I had that kind of love. A whole band worth of love.

17

GAGE

Something in what I’ve said makes her quiet, and once we’ve made the purchase, she decides she’d like to go back to the resort. I don’t want her to hole up there again and hide out in the penthouse, but I don’t want to push. A lot has happened in the past twenty-four hours.

When we get back to the condo, Ivy says she’s going to take a nap, but I don’t buy it. She wasn’t tired the whole day. She doesn’t even appear tired now, so I follow her to her room.

“What are you doing?” she snaps, and I want to suck the sting off her lips.

“I’m taking a nap with you.” Napping is the last thing on my mind, but I’ll hold her if it’s the only way she’ll let me be close to her right now. She gives me a puzzled look but doesn’t fight me. Crawling onto her bed, she lies on her side, and I climb up behind her. I have no other intention than to make her relax.

I start by massaging her neck, which she rolls forward to give me better access to work the muscles. She’s delicate, or maybe refined is the word I’d use to describe her. I press a kiss to her nape and then work my palm over her shoulder, squeezing and pressing at the tender slope until I coast down her arm. I rub up and back, watching the fine hairs rise under my touch. She shifts, and her backside hits my front.

“Ivy,” I warn. As my hand lowers to her wrist, she bends her elbow to slip up and entwine my fingers with hers.

“You’re turning me on,” she whispers, and it’s just what I want to hear. I sit up and reach behind my neck to remove my shirt. Ivy twists to look at me over her shoulder.

“I don’t think there’s any move sexier,” she mutters in a groggy voice thick with desire. I’ll remove a million shirts if she looks at me like she is right this moment. Desire fills her eyes. I lie back down and slip my hand under her dress. I tug at her panties, and she lifts her hips to remove the slip of fabric. My hand palms the cool globe of her ass cheek.

“Take off your dress,” I murmur into her hair, still fondling her smooth, rounded skin. She sits up and slips the long T-shirt dress over her head. With her back to me, I draw a finger down her spine, and she glances at me over her shoulder. “I don’t think there’s anything sexier.” My dick rises to full mast as her pouty lips pucker. I need to kiss her, and I sit forward, taking her mouth with mine. My hand cups the side of her neck, keeping her twisted in this position while I savor her lips. I’m convinced I could kiss her for hours.

I pull back and flick the catch on her bra. She tugs it forward and then flips it to the end of the bed. It’s the first time I’ve seen her completely naked. A sliver of sunshine peeks through the slats of the blinds, highlighting her hair and her smile.

“You’re gorgeous,” I tell her, tugging her back down to her side. Her hand moves to her belly.

“I’m getting fat,” she whispers.

“You’re becoming more beautiful every day.” She chuckles at my line, but I’m not teasing, and to prove my point, I roll her on top of me. Her back to my front.

“Gage,” she exhales my name in surprise as her body blankets mine. I reach behind me to hike up a pillow, lifting us only a little. I want her over me like she is, the warmth of her back on my bare chest. I reach both hands around her and squeeze each engorged breast. They’re growing riper every day, filling for a purpose, yet there’s nothing sexier than feeling the weight, pressing the heaviness, and then tweaking her nipples into sharp tips. I watch over her shoulder as she arches, forcing herself into my hands, begging me to continue to squeeze.

“I want a taste of each of these, but not yet.” I flatten my hands below each breast and press downward, skimming my palms over her skin until they climb the bump at her lower belly. I rest there for a moment.

“I can’t wait to meet the future princess, but for now, I’m going to have my way with the queen.” Her legs fell between mine, but I angle my feet to scoop under her ankles, forcing her legs to spread to the outsides of mine.

She purrs my name, both in a warning and with curiosity. I lift my knees, forcing her thighs to open wider.

“I feel exposed like this,” she tells me.

“Good,” I reply, lowering my hands to press on her inner thighs, stretching her even more. Then I take a finger and circle her pussy and growl at my discovery. “You’re dripping.”

“You do this to me.” I nip at her neck, pleased with her response. I want to feel her dripping all over me, but I steel my patience. I circle slick folds one more time before entering her. Her head pops off my shoulder, and my hips buck up beneath her. My dick twitches, knowing he’s right below her entrance. So close but not close enough. Not yet.

A second finger enters her, and I take my time to play in her depths. With her legs spread on either side of my hips, she’s open wide, and I watch over her shoulder as my fingers disappear inside her. I’m so hard beneath her, so desperate to enter her, but I promised her slow, and I’m a man of my word. I didn’t think it’d be possible for her to grow wetter, but she does, and within seconds, her essence coats my digits.

“God, I want you,” I tell her, unable to contain my thoughts half as well as I’m trying to contain my body.

“Gage,” she hisses, sliding her hand over her belly. If her fingers join mine, I’m going to lose it in my shorts. When her fingers crest over mine, finding her clit to participate in the attention I’m giving her, I do lose my mind. My hips buck, and my dick weeps. I nearly cry, wanting inside her so badly. When she comes, resting over me, I want to be the one to scream.

Within seconds, she pushes at my wrist, removing my fingers and sits up to straddle my lower abdomen. She weighs nearly nothing despite her pregnancy, and when her soaked center hits the hairs below my belly button, I hiss. Both my hands press up her spine while her hands work at my shorts, tugging at the lace closure and then pushing them down my hips.