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I look in the rearview. He’s wrong. His eyes glint, sharp, alert. “Whatever happened, it’s okay—”
“We’re not speaking about this,” he cuts in.
I bite down and almost push the issue. It’s clear something is eating him up. Maybe he’s spent too many years trying to lock it away. He doesn’t have to hide it from me, whatever it is. I’ll always be here for him. But how can I tell him that without pushing way too hard?
“So you and Chrissy went to the store…”
He wants me to get back to the pregnancy story. “I bought several tests. Did them all. The next day, I went to the doctor to be sure. There’s no doubt about it. I’m pregnant.”
“We’re going to have a baby.”
Finally, he touches me. His hand moves from the back of the car over my shoulder. When he squeezes, warmth seeps down my arm, through my body, pushing away any other concerns. I reach up, press down on his hands, then pull away when I remember the cuts on his knuckles.
“It doesn’t hurt,” he says. “Nothing is as painful as it should be when I’m with you.”
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
Logan
I squeeze her shoulder lightly, feeling heat blaze through her shirt like the fire on the balcony. The fight at the frat house has pumped me up. I could stay awake for days with my woman—holding, kissing, and letting her know how wanted she is.
I can feel the pregnancy signals emanating from her. It’s a scent, too. It’s tempting every piece of me. I lean forward, moving my hand from her shoulder to her breasts. It’s a savage thing for me to do, but the road is quiet. We’re in the dark. My body is throbbing, and my instincts are determined. I groan and start massaging when I feel her curviness through her shirt.
“Luh-Logan,” she whispers.
“I’ve thought about you every single day since I walked out on you,” I groan, slipping my hand under her shirt and bra. I find her nipple and touch it softly. It will get more sensitive further into her pregnancy, won’t it? She’s going to cream for me as I suck her nipple. “Every second.”
She moans softly, drawing me back to that night, but these moans are even sexier. These are the moans of my pregnant woman.
“W-whoa,” she whimpers.
“What?” I say, stopping my fingers for a moment.
“My nipples feel crazy.”
I laugh softly. “In a good way?”
“Yeah, just be gentle.”
It turns out I was wrong about it happening further into the pregnancy. Hell, what do I know? Just like on the balcony, I forget about the rest of the world. Instead, I focus on my woman’s moans and her nipple between my fingers. I’m so gentle, but I start moving quicker.
She shifts against the seat. I can hear her fingernails scraping against it. “Is this making your pregnant pussy nice and wet for me?” I growl.
“Oh, my… y-yes,” she moans. “I like it when you say that.”
“You like it when I call you my sexy,pregnantwoman?” I move my fingers faster. “When I say I want to fuck your horny pussy even harder, even more passionately? Because you’reglowing, just for me.”
Her moans become wordless. She’s writhing against the seat. I’m captivated. I’ve never learned an instrument, but I imagine this is like that. Moving my fingers, hearing the sweet music, except this is so much more intense. The music is my woman, my future wife.
“Uh… uh… oh, my…” Goddamn. She shivers against the seat, then sits still. Her chest rises and falls. “I can’t believe that.”
“You’ve never creamed from that before?” I snarl, my member pushing hard against my pants, my balls aching with fullness.
“Logan, I’ve never doneanyof this before,” she whispers.
“Come back here with me,” I tell her. “I want to kiss you again. I need it.”
“This is Dad’s car,” she murmurs. “We can’t…”
