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“That’s the part where you ask mewhat, Kai,” she says.
I smile. I can’t help myself. I’m the one who told her we had to forget what we did, but with each comment, she draws me in. She makes me want to hold her, laugh with her,bewith her.
“Isn’t that enough?” I laugh. “I can barely fit one thought in my head at a time, let alone all that.”
Her laugh is so sweet. It feels like I earned it, and it matters. Everything she gives me matters. A kiss, a laugh, her youthful body, her smile, her womb, her future.
“I was thinking about the thing we shouldn’t have done,” she whispers.
I sit up and lean against the wall. My neck aches from the earlier position, anyway. She sits up in bed, too, her arms wrapped around her knees, her outline visible in the darkness. Her features are shadowed. Somehow, from the tightness in her body, I feel her pain.
“I know you’re right,” she whispers. “It was wrong.”
I swallow. “It was.”
“But…”
“I want to do it again,” I growl.
She shudders and nods.
I’m on my feet before I let myself think. Sitting on the bed, I draw her into my arms. She collapses against me almost desperately, like she’s been waiting far longer than a few hours for this moment. I kiss her on the lips, giving myself the pleasure of tasting her.
Then she pushes her hands against my chest, gasping, and leans back.
“Can you just hold me?” she says, with that same sense of desperation.
“I shouldn’t…”
“I know.”
We stay silent for a while. Then, without discussing it, I lie on the bed, and she rolls over. She wriggles against me, her back against my chest, my rock-hard dick against her ass. I can’t help that part. My dick isn’t going to be soft when I’m pressed against my woman. Her hormones are talking to me. Her body is so, so ready. I need to distract us.
“What’s your favorite memory of your dad?” I ask.
Somehow, I’m sure I feel her smile. She clutches my hand. “I liked when he’d sit on the porch and clean his pocket watch. You remember the one, right?”
I laugh with the taste of Kay’s lips on my mouth. “Yes.”
“What’s funny?”
“Nothing.”
She goes on after a pause. “Okay, well, he’d spend hours cleaning it. Sometimes, I miss that noise so badly. When I was little, I always heard it when I sat on his lap or hugged him. That ticking noise. He told me to think of it as his heartbeat, but I forgot about that at some point.”
I kiss the back of her head and smell her hair. “He was a good man.”
As I hold her, listening for threats, I know I won’t be able to end this. Ryan might hate me, but this isn’t about hate. It’s about something else.
Closing my eyes, I see Kay in a wedding dress, elegant and full-figured. Her cheeks are flushed with pure happiness, and her belly may be already a little swollen. She’s walking toward me, smiling wider, telling me it’s not a dream. It’s happening. We’re together forever, and nothing can ever break us apart.
CHAPTERELEVEN
Kayla
Kai is acting shifty.
We’re sitting on a picnic bench near a quiet lake in Utah. The surroundings are patchy, with a few collections of trees here and there, like a giant hand sprinkled them about. Kai sits up, the sun gleaming down, his black hair glistening, and his arms huge and hot as hell in his shirt.
