Page 87 of Read With Your Heart

“Someday,” I say wistfully. Someday I’ll have the baby I want, the man I love, and a home. My house is really starting to feel like that place.

“How about now?” Leon questions sheepishly, looking up at me. I’m seated against pillows at my back. He’s lying on his back next to me. “I want to give that to you.”

“What?” My voice rolls over the question. I think he’s teasing me until I glance down and see the seriousness in his face.

“I want to give you a baby.”

“How?” I choke, as if he thinks he can go to the store and just buy one off the shelf. His lip slowly curls into a sexy smile, and his silver eyes sharpen. My voice drops as I repeat the question. “How?”

Leon sits up so fast I flinch back. He cups my jaw, and his mouth comes to mine, tender and soft like he always starts. I’m still trying to process what he’s saying, what he’s offering. We’ve had plenty of sex in the past month but always used condoms. I didn’t return to the pill after losing the baby in June. I didn’t foresee having sex again for a long, long time. I never could have imagined a man like Leon coming into my life.

Leon stays gentle and worshipful as he shifts his body to straddle my seated position and removes my night shirt.

“Let me make love to you,” he whispers at my ear before kissing the shell. He doesn’t wait for an answer but tugs down the blankets over my legs and gently drags me to my back on the mattress. He kisses my bare breasts, my sternum and my neck. He sucks at my chin, my jaw, and then presses a kiss to my forehead. His hand strokes down my arm, searching for my fingers. We intertwine them, and he brings our collective hands to his mouth and kisses my knuckles. “Let me give you a baby.”

My mouth falls open to again ask how as if I don’t understand the basic mechanics of making one. What I’m not understanding is his offer to make one with me.

“What does this mean, Leon?”

“It means I love you. You do everything for me and everyone else, and I want to give you this one thing. I want to have a baby with you.” His mouth returns to kissing me before I can respond. His lips retreat, moving down neck to my breast. To continue distracting me, his thick tongue laps at one nipple while his fingers pinch the other. My fingers curl around his ears and tug, lifting his head so he looks at me.

“Leon, I’m serious. What does this mean?” I do not want to get my hopes up. I do not want my dreams shattered. I do not need false promises. “You said no promises.”

“When did I say that?” He pauses his seduction and rests on an elbow at my side. His chest rests against my thumping core as my thighs spread to allow him between them. A palm flattens on my belly, reverently staring at my skin.

“The night of the football game, a few months ago. You said we didn’t need to make promises.”

“I said you didn’t have to promise me anything. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to promise you everything,” he says, holding my eyes, and I huff. He’s incredulous.

“Leon, be real. What promises would you make me?” This conversation is irritating me. This isn’t a joke. This beautiful naked man is lying over me offering me the one thing I want most, so why am I not giving in to him?

“You want real, baby? Here’s real—‘I would not wish any companion in the world but you.’”

“More Shakespeare,” I snap, not in the mood for his knowledge of the Bard.

“My man had it right, though. I do not wish to be with anyone but you, baby. You are my world. I want to be yours. I want a baby to be ours. That’s my promise to you. I’ll love you and cherish you and take care of you. Both of you.” He presses a kiss to my belly. “To strive to deserve you is all I ask.”

I swallow the sudden lump in my throat. “Was that Shakespeare?” I’m an English teacher, but that does not mean I have every line of the ancient playwright burned in my brain like Leon.

“That was a Leon original,” he teases and shifts to kiss one breast and then move to the other. He returns to the left one and circles my nipple with his tongue before opening wide and taking me into his warm mouth. He’s good at this distraction thing, but I’m not finished discussing this proposition.

“I like Leon originals,” I quietly say, releasing his ears and scratching my fingertips over his scalp. He sucks at my breast, tugging my nipple to a sharp peak and then moves back to the other achy globe, paying it equal homage. He looks up at me, all innocent eyes with a hint of mischief as his tongue circles the nipple before he takes the other breast in his mouth for another deep suck. He releases me with a pop.

“I’d like to write another Leon original.” A finger strokes down my middle, straight to my clit, and my hips rock at the touch. His rough fingertip flicks at the sensitive nub before his finger slips lower, entering me with a swift surge upward. Leon shifts his body to catch my sharp intake of breath with his mouth. He kisses me, telling me without words what he wants to give me. My body responds. My hips roll against the delicious intrusion of his finger, and he adds a second to prime me.

“So you want to have a baby with me?” I mutter against his lips on mine. His smile curls his lips over mine.

“Among other things,” he mutters. He pulls back to glance where his fingers enter me. My hips dance under his attention. “I love how you respond to my touch.”

“What other things?” I question, refusing to fall completely for his sweet seduction. Not yet.

“One thing at a time, pretty lady.” He peers back at me, enjoying himself while he tortures me with his fingers and teases me with his vagueness. “Got one more quote and then I’m going to concentrate on making you happy.”

I stare at him. How does he have the brain power to even think of Shakespeare while his fingers are doing what he’s doing to me?

“‘She’s is beautiful, and therefore to be wooed; she is woman, and therefore to be won.’” His eyes hold mine. His fingers dipping deeper, taking their time to move forward and draw back. “Game on. I plan to win, pretty lady.”

“Shirts and skins?” I whisper, my mind muddled.