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“I thought we were enjoying the moment, taking what we can while we can.”
He pinches my nipple through my shirt. “And I need to know where I stand with you. I need to know you aren’t just having sex with me now because you plan to shove me out of your life tomorrow morning.”
I nip his lower lip. “I don’t think I could push you away for good, even if I wanted to.”
“But you do want to.”
“Of course I do. Not because I want you out of my life. I just don’t want to be forced into a situation where my only options are to marry you or become the woman who left you at the altar. It’s one thing to be dating. We can recover from a break-up if we’re just dating. We can say we thought we could be more than friends, but it didn’t work out. Or the chemistry wasn’t there. But engaged? That involves I love yous and conversations about kids and 401Ks.”
“That takes us from trying out a relationship and catapults us into wedding plans,” he says. “It puts a new pressure on us you don’t want.”
“Exactly.” I’m so grateful he gets it. “I need some time and space to think about this, but my first instinct is we should pull back on the real and focus on pretending to be engaged for the sake of your clinic.”
“Or I tell everyone the truth.” He runs his warm palm up the bare skin of my back, a comforting pet.
“Nope. If you tell them the truth, everything we’ve done will mean nothing.”
“Has it really been such a hardship?” He kisses my temple, his voice husky, his grip on me tightening. “Have you hated pretending to date me?”
“I’ve hated everything except the sex.”
He chuckles and pushes against my core. “I don’t believe you.”
My core is buzzing, my panties soaked, and I’m having a hard time remembering what we were talking about. “Are we agreed? We’ll finish what we started here without a condom?”
“I’m clean,” he says, his own voice breathy. “And I don’t think I’ll be able to walk very far in the state I’m in.”
I lean forward and kiss him hard, unbuttoning his pants and reaching past the waistband of his boxer briefs, but I can’t get to his cock because he’s pressed so tight against me.
“Noah, I need to touch you.”
“You know, something I’ve always wanted to try is sex against the wall.”
“I’m in. Let me touch you.”
He lowers me to the ground and pushes down the waistband of my pants as he kisses me.
I glance around, suddenly nervous. “What if one of my sisters walks in?”
“It’s the middle of the day. Who would come in here?”
“I don’t know, but do you really want to risk it?”
“I’ve heard the risk of getting caught makes sex that much more fun.” He shoves down his pants and steps out of them. “Want to find out?”
I look around again, my body buzzing with want for the man who’s kissing his way down my neck as he pushes my pants down farther. Do I want to find out? Do I want to experience everything I possibly can with this man because I doubt there will ever be another man I want or trust enough to experiment with? “Yes. Please.” I drop my arms and shove his boxers down.
He grins wickedly up at me. “There is no woman in the world more perfect for me than you.”
My heart thumps and my stomach tingles and I wish this could be real and permanent. But I push those inconvenient feelings away to focus on what we’re here for: epic sex.
I step out of my pants and climb back up him. “Get inside me now. There’s no time for foreplay.”
He doesn’t argue, just presses me up against the wall of the barn. He feels so good against me I moan, my eyes falling shut as sensation overwhelms me.
“Focus, Weston.” He grips my hips and pulls me tight against him. “We’re on a mission and we can’t risk being interrupted before we complete it.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
