Page 112 of Sterling Heat

“Enya,” he warns.

“But it’s you, in my head, in my heart, who is Adara’s father. Her dad. You’re who we want. Love. Unconditional.” A tear leaks from the corner of my eye and I brusquely swipe at it. “And nothing is going to change that. Nothing.”

Vulnerable and real, I’ve opened my heart to him. I’m not afraid to love him.

He’s afraid. He’s in denial of things, of people, that could enrich his life. He’s convinced himself of his inability to be a father. And he’s been adamant he doesn’t want a family.

I’m the one who hasn’t listened, living off hope-filled dreams.

“But.” I hesitate. “I fault myself.”

His head lifts. His shoulders stiffen.

“You’ve been perfectly honest since the start. And I did this.” I point at myself, moving around the island and coming closer to him. “You delivered Adara. I mean, wow, what a connection. Then you pretended to be her dad and offered me your apartment. You stayed with me and slept with me. And I got all wrapped up in everything. I took advantage of you.”

He gives me that irritated look, that I once considered cute. The scowl is too hard now. His eyes are like blue daggers. “That is not how things happened.”

I don’t question him because I’m on a roll. “I get in my head sometimes, and I’ve doubted myself. Doubted I could do this alone, be a mother on my own. But that isn’t really the question. I am doing it. Me and Adara. I want a family, Sebastian.” I tap at my chest. “And I want you to be part of ours.”

Suddenly, his hands are in my hair and his mouth is on mine, hard at first. Taking and teasing with his tongue and his teeth, those marvelous teeth that sting, but then his mouth softens.

“Fuck, Enya. Just fucking fuck.” His kisses continue, deepening, desperate.

His hands drop to my hips, and he lifts me onto the island, pressing me back with his upper body as he kisses me, hungry and eager. Then he slides to my chin and scrapes his teeth over my jaw. It hurts while it heightens my libido. A surge of desire rushes to my middle, and as if his mouth is chasing that rush, he sucks on my neck before moving to my chest and down my center.

Hastily, he presses my sleep tee upward and lowers his face to my belly, nipping at my skin as he moves down to my underwear. With one fierce tug, the material is pulled to my knees and then falls off my feet. Sebastian is between my thighs, spreading me with his tongue before sucking at that sensitive nub. Every movement is hurried, and my brain doesn’t have a second to catch up. My body takes over, responding to every swipe, every lap.

I just want to get lost in him.

Sebastian’s hands cup my backside, and he lifts me upward, like a man might raise a bowl of soup, before slurping at it, drinking it in. I’m pinned in this position with no other choice than to give into his attention. Quickly my body reacts, boiling over, and I come hard and fast, crying out in pleasure. My hands seek purchase on the countertop, but the granite is too smooth.

Suddenly, I’m spun on my back, so my body lays the length of the island, not the width. Sebastian swiftly undoes his jeans and climbs up on the island, pushing me backward.

“What are you doing?” I watch in wonder as he prowls over me. His eyes suggest he’s ready to devour me when I’ve already been his feast.

“From the moment I saw this countertop, I had visions of fucking you on it. Claiming you as mine.”

“I am yours.”

“Dammit, sugar.” Stress mars his face while he lines himself up at my entrance. “I’d never deserve you. Not after what I’ve done. Not after who I’ve been.”

“You aren’t him anymore. You’re just . . . you.” My voice falters as he swipes the smooth tip of his hard length through my slick folds.

“I shouldn’t be here.”

“You should.” Whether he means in my house or about to enter me, he should be exactly where he is.

“Fuck.” With one powerful thrust, he enters me, and I scoot backward on the countertop with the force. Wrapping my legs around the backs of his, I press at his thighs, holding him inside me.

The kitchen island is like a life raft in a sea of uncertainty. But I’m certain of one thing. I want Sebastian.

“Why do you tempt me so much, Enya?” He pulls back and surges forward, filling me over and over again. “Why am I so drawn to you?”

“Because we’re good together.” My hands are on his biceps, but I slide them to his shoulder blades, pinning him to me in any way I can. Caging him in as much as he towers over me.

His hips move. Mine respond. Back and forth, we rock, tugging at one another, needing each other.

I can raise Adara alone, but I don’t want to. I want Sebastian to be her father. I want him to claim her. Claim both of us as his.