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I try to push him back as he towers over me. “Don’t you get it, babe? You fucking mess with my head, and I like it,” he says, tapping his temple to emphasize his point.
“That’s why you can only focus on your rides?” I ask, grimacing.
“Yeah, babe. In case you didn’t know, you are a huge distraction.” He rolls his eyes and takes a step back, opening his leather jacket. His black shirt underneath is straining against his chest. Damn, he looks hot. And the thrill I always get when he’s near engulfs me until I can’t think straight.
“You bother me to the point I’m not even fucking concentrating in the damn pipe, and that shit is dangerous,” he says, scratching his jaw.
“You didn’t seem to have a problem at the X Games,” I grumble, staring into his eyes.
“That was because I was thinking with my dick. And now I’m thinking with my other head, babe,” he says, sarcasm ringing through his deep voice. A slow, cocky smile tugs on his lips. “Can’t we just go on like this? Me fucking you whenever I want?” He waggles his eyebrows. “I haven’t been near a pussy as sweet as yours.”
I flip him off, and he glowers at me. He holds up his hands in defeat before he grabs my hips again. “Okay, fine, I’ll admit, I haven’t fucked anyone since I met you.”
“Well, thank you so much, asshole,” I say, taking off the scarf that’s starting to choke me. I push it into my bag and open my jacket. Damn, I’m hot, and it’s not even fifty Fahrenheit outside.
His eyes bulge as they zero in on my stomach.
Fuck. I take a step back until my ass hits a couple of boxes I’ve stacked against the side of the garage.
“What the fuck is that?” he whispers.
“What is what?” I ask, trying to close my jacket.
In two big strides, he corners me and opens my jacket, staring at my belly. “Is this why my dad wanted me to talk to you… are you—” he asks. His eyes are wide and scared, and it looks like the blood is draining from his face. I have to grab him by his jacket to steady him with the way he’s swaying.
Fuck, I hadn’t planned on telling him like this, in the least romantic setting known to mankind—in a dusty garage. “I’m pregnant,” I say, the words slipping from my mouth.
“You are …” He swallows hard.
“Pregnant,” I finish for him, and I think he might actually faint.
