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My nose stings, and I search for something snarky to say before the tears appear. He senses my impending breakdown and swings his attention to Grace. “You think Sexy Six can get Mom and me tickets to the season opener?”
“I’m sure that can be arranged if your doctors approve.” She giggles.
“Whatcha think, Dr. Delicious? Can I go to the game?”
That’s all it takes for the emotions to turn to amusement, and I burst into giggles, along with Grace and Ina. Mathis drops his chin to his chest but not before his lips twitch.
“I think there’s a good chance you’ll be sitting at that game,” Dr. Cross answers with his own smile.
“Awesome!”
“I’d say so.” Ina appears equally as excited.
“Now, is it safe to do a little dance and cheer in celebration?” Grace shimmies her hips.
Carlos gasps at the scene, and I howl, falling to the side and into Mathis. Grace’s figure has remained slender; however, her stomach has ballooned out tremendously. When she shakes her hips this way, her abdomen bounces unnaturally. She is nowhere near her due date, but her size says differently.
“Stop that!” Carlos groans. “Don’t shake that baby out in here.”
Grace throws her hands in the air, huffing. “Why does everyone think I’m going to have this baby every time I move? Mathis, tell them I’m fine!”
“She’s fine.” He doesn’t hide the laughter in his response.
“Are we ready to play poker?” He shuffles the cards. “Seems like today is my day and luck is on my side.”
“Oh, in your dreams. I may not be a whiz at chess, but you’ve seen my skills in poker. I’m an Ace.”
His eyes fill with warmth, and he speaks directly to me with a gratitude I’ve seen once before, that morning outside my room on Stefan’s face. “I’m pretty sure you’re an Ace in most things.”
Mathis grabs my hand, and I smile brightly at Carlos. “You’re going to be okay.”
And I know it’s true.
A fire flames in his gaze the minute I step into the living room. He swallows the whiskey in one gulp, sets the glass down, crosses his arms casually, and rakes his eyes over me.
My skin tingles under the heat, and I know this dress was well worth the fortune I spent on it. The sapphire sequin mini-dress is tight in all the right places, hits mid-thigh, and exposes enough skin to be sexy without borderline risqué.
“We’re canceling.”
“For the third time, no, we’re not. I didn’t spend the last two hours primping to bail on dinner and sit in front of the television.”
“I can promise you, we won’t be sitting in front of the fucking television,” he growls.
“Sexual persuasion won’t work tonight. My parents will be crushed if we miss dinner.”
“I’ll make it up to them.”
He prowls my way with a look of invincible determination. My heart and stomach flutter in sync as I back up, hitting the edge of the sofa. He steps into my space, his hands going to my neck, his thumb pressing into my pulse, which gives me away. His lips crash down on mine, the bitter taste of whiskey coating my mouth. I whimper, melting into him, my tongue curling with his. His touch singes, igniting the familiar need that consumes me.
The fancy dinner, magnificent dress and shoes, and reason for celebration fly out of my head as my leg hitches around his hip, and I try to crawl my way into his body. He thrusts and groans down my throat, his thickness sliding against my inner thigh. It’s my turn to moan in appreciation when he adjusts his pelvis to stroke along the strip of lace barely covering me. I fist my hand in the back of his hair, urging him to keep moving. He obeys my silent command, shifting one hand to my scalp and flexing my head backward, breaking our kiss. His mouth moves urgently over my jaw, under my chin, and traces a path down my neck. I pant as he continues to drive against me until the coiling begins.
“Mathis,” I moan greedily.
He doesn’t stop, rubbing himself against me until I cry out his name, feeling the slightest bit of relief but wanting more. “We’re skipping dinner.” My voice is barely recognizable.
His teeth nip my skin at the base of my throat and he smiles. “Glad you see it my way. But I’ve changed my mind. We’re going, and when we get home, I’m going to take this dress off with my mouth.”
I tense, hot and needy, clenching my thighs as tight as possible. “You can’t be serious. Take it off with your mouth now!”
