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“Why is there so much stuff everywhere?” He frowns at the room as if that’s the problem here, and not his inability to talk to me.
“We already had this conversation.”
“Seriously, this isn’t safe. You just hurt your back, and then you almost wiped out again.”
“I don’t know where you think I’m supposed to put things. This is where I live. This is all the space I have. The space I had been using for inventory isn’t available at the moment and the guy who knocked me up isn’t answering his damn phone.”
“I’m here now.”
“So what? You want to take some diapers now? Save the day now that it’s convenient?”
“Doesn’t seem like you want to be saved.”
“I don’t need you to save me, you know,” I say, the quiet shake in my voice coming from a place of anger now. “I never needed you.”
“Don’t say that,” he says, stepping closer.
I blink and look down. He pinches my chin between his thumb and forefinger and lifts until I have to meet his silvery-blue gaze.
“Don’t say that again.”
“I told you from the start, I don’t want you to be here if you don’t want to be.”
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Why are you here?” I take a shaky breath, but he doesn’t back off. “Why now?”
“Because clearly you need me.”
“You wouldn’t know what I need.”
He steps closer, threading his other hand through my hair, and I gasp. He smirks, seeing the effect he has on me. “I think you are far more needy for me than you want to admit right now. In fact, I think I know exactly what you need right now.”
“You don’t.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“So you’re telling me that if I slip my fingers between your legs, you won’t be wet?”
I hiss as he drags his fingers down my throat, between my breasts, past my ribs. They settle on my hip.
“That if I were to pull down these pants and fall to my knees, you wouldn’t whimper and beg me to lick and suck and fuck your sweet, dripping pussy until you scream?”
“That’s not…” I begin, but don’t get to finish because he’s folded down the top of my maternity pants, his hand thrust between my thighs. His fingers brush the hot, wet fabric over my traitorous center. A hum floats from my lips and his pupils dilate with victory.
“Little liar,” he mumbles, nipping at my ear. “I know exactly what you need. And I can give that to you. You know I can.”
His deft fingers push the fabric aside, and my thighs, as if they have a mind of their own, separate, giving him space to brush over my clit. A whimper escapes my throat and my eyelids flutter closed.
He continues to circle it, flicking directly over it every so often, and I tense and moan every time he does. Meanwhile, the other hand works the fabric down my legs until it pools on the floor. I start to step out of them, and he helps me, falling to his knees and helping me one leg at a time. He curls his fingers in the sides of my red panties and lowers them. I feel so exposed, with him at eye level with my crotch, especially since I haven’t been able to reach it to do some grooming.
“Don’t hide from me, princess,” he says. “Spread.” His voice is commanding and my legs do what he demands.
“Wait,” I say, touching his shoulders. “I need to—”
“Megan,” he says, his voice with a hard, needy edge I’ve never heard before. “I’ve had a shitty week at work. I will tell you all about it. But right now, I need to eat your cunt.”
