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She trusts you, he told himself. That’s the difference. And the proof of her trust was just as sweet and precious to him as having her call his name when she climaxed. He swore in that instant she would never have cause to regret giving him her trust...or her love. He needed both more than he’d ever thought possible.
He allowed his hands to wander down to her breasts, cupping them, toying with the nipples until they tightened for him, and he smiled possessively before moving his hands down to the swell of her hips.
He loved her body. She hid her compact curves inside clothes that denied her sexuality, wanting to be taken seriously in her job. But they were there. And they were enticing to him. Never again would he see her in clothes and not remember this moment and the ones that had gone before. He would always remember the way her first orgasm had taken her by surprise. It made him feel both powerful and curiously humbled.
And until his dying day he would remember the little catch in her voice when she’d begged him not to stop. He hadn’t wanted to—a primal part of him had wanted to keep going, no matter what, to possess her body in that most basic way—but he would have tried...if she hadn’t pleaded with him not to.
She trusts you, he told himself again. And she loves you.
He stirred at the thought, swelling against her hip. He knew she could feel it, too, because her hand slipped down and touched him there. Then her fingers were stroking him, and he swelled even more. “Don’t start—” he began, but then he groaned when her fingers encircled him and squeezed. “Keira...”
“Let me,” she said. “I want to.”
He let her have her way for a minute, and another, and another. Then he caught her hand. “Not yet,” he said. “We still have to talk.”
“About what?”
“About birth control. Or rather, the birth control we didn’t use earlier.”
“Oh.”
“You wouldn’t by any chance be using anything, would you?”
“No.” She shook her head, then thought for a moment, her lips moving soundlessly as if she were mentally counting something. Then she said, “But we should be okay. I’m... It’s not...”
Cody chuckled softly, pulling her tightly against his shoulder. “You know, doctors have a word to describe women who rely on the rhythm method of birth control.”
“What’s that?”
“Mothers.”
“Oh, I...” She chuckled, too. “I see. Very funny.”
He put his other arm protectively around her. “I wasn’t planning this. I hope you believe that.”
“I know you weren’t.” Her voice was soft as a sigh.
“I don’t carry condoms with me everywhere I go. I know a lot of single guys do, just in case. But I don’t.”
She wouldn’t look at him. “I didn’t think you were that kind,” she said gruffly, toying with the hair on his chest.
“So I need you to promise that if something happens—something we didn’t plan on—you won’t keep it from me.”
She didn’t answer right away, then said in a low voice, “I promise.”
There was an ache in the back of his throat, and in his heart, and it didn’t have anything to do with extracting a promise from her not to keep him in the dark if she ended up pregnant. The ache was for the sudden, unexpected yearning to see Keira with his child in her womb. Where had that yearning come from?
And was it something she wanted, too? He didn’t know, and it didn’t seem the right time to ask. But the more he thought about it, the more he longed for it to be true. He was thirty-seven, long past the time most men fathered their first child, but until now it hadn’t been a priority. It hadn’t even occurred to him. Keira’s baby, he thought, tenderness and possessiveness warring for dominance. Our baby.
A savage surge of desire shot through him with unexpected force, and he was shocked to realize he didn’t just want to make love to her because he needed her warmth and passion to bring him to life. And it wasn’t just because he needed her love. A primitive, elemental part of him wanted to plant his seed deep within her, marking her as his territory so no other man would even think of touching her.
