Page 82 of The FBI Agents Who Stole Me

I pull my pants up while Julian cleans between Lee’s legs. Drags her shirt over her head and sets her on the couch.

“Need a little nap,” she whispers and curls up on her side.

She’s so cute.

“I’m going to work out,” he says and walks out the door.

I press a kiss to the top of Lee’s head and pull a blanket over her shoulders. She doesn’t stir. Her breathing stays slow and even, one hand curled loosely against her stomach. The thought of her being pregnant makes me want to beat on my chest and rut into her like an animal.

I find some composure and walk away so she can sleep.

A streak of black and white runs through the kitchen and skids to a halt in front of the torn curtain. Jasper freezes, tail puffed, staring up at the shredded fabric like it just challenged him to a fight. He takes two slow steps backward, then another, but there is mischief in his little kitten eyes.

I scoop him up before he can launch another attack on the beastly curtains. He goes limp the second he’s against my chest, rumbling out a loud purr that vibrates straight through my shirt.

“You bored, little buddy?” I mutter, scratching behind one ear. “I brought you some stuff. But keep it down. Your mom’s finally sleeping.”

He tips his head back to look at me with those wide, unblinking eyes.

I shake my head. “No. I’m not telling you why she’s tired. You’re too young for that conversation.”

I carry him into the kitchen with one arm and drag the big canvas bag of toys out from beside the pantry with the other.

“This place is tiny,” I tell him, setting him down on one of the kitchen chairs. “So we’re gonna keep the insanity and scratching to a minimum, got it?”

He watches me with his head tilted, one paw dangling over the edge of the seat like he’s supervising.

I start with his cat tower. It’s a small one, and I only have to screw on one ledge. A ball hangs below it, and he immediately starts swinging at it.

When that gets old, he throws himself on another toy, chasing the ball around and around until his little legs give out, and he flops right in the middle of it, panting.

I lift him up and put him on the hammock level of his cat tower. He curls into a little fluff ball and tucks in his paws.

When I turn around, Lee is sitting up on the couch.

She’s got the blanket pooled around her waist, and her hair’s a mess from sleep. She’s watching me with this soft, unreadable look on her face. Her eyes flick from me to the tower and back again.

I wipe my hands on my pants and meet her gaze.

She doesn’t say anything right away. Just keeps looking at me with a sweet smile.

“Oh my God,” she says, hand moving off the back of the couch to get a closer look. “He is so cute. I’m going to die from the actual cuteness,” she whispers to me.

I walk around the couch and sit next to her.

With her sweet smile, she crawls over to me on her hands and knees. Then she climbs straight into my lap, straddling me. Her arms loop around my neck. I steady her with my hands on her waist.

She kisses me before I can say anything. It’s so slow. Her mouth moves against mine, and I let her take what she wants. Her hands run across my bare chest, and her finger traces the lines of muscle.

I kiss her back the same way, one hand sliding up her back under her shirt, the other cupping the back of her head.

We make out like teenagers, and I’m rock-hard while she grinds against my thigh.

“I’m not mad at you anymore,” she whispers against my mouth. “But only because you are a really good cat dad. And you brought him toys… and thought of everything we needed here.”

My cheeks ache from the smile against her mouth.

Shifting her hips, she reaches between us. She slips both hands into the waistband of my pants.