legs clench.
“God, I missed you,” he murmurs in my ear.
My stomach flip-flops. “You shouldn’t say that.”
“What? I can’t miss my friend ? Are you going to tell me you didn’t miss me at all?”
Only every other second and the ones in between. “A little, I guess.”
“How are you feeling?” he asks against my ear. Then I can feel his lips curve into a smile as he adds, “Other than painfully horny, that is.”
My cheeks burn. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”
“Maybe I’m glad I did. Maybe I wanted an excuse to talk my way into your bed.”
I bite my lower lip. Hard. Because I would gladly take him up on that—even if I know I shouldn’t. And it’s not just because pregnancy has left me as horny as a teenage boy at prom. It’s because it’s Nate, and I know a little bit about what would happen if I let him talk his way into my bed. But I’d like to know more.
“We can’t,” I protest lamely, because apparently my brain has conquered my girly bits in the battle for control of my speech. “You know that.”
W HEN I walked into the party tonight, she was the first thing I saw. In a black dress and bright red heels, she’d catch any man’s eye. With her belly rounding with my babies, I could hardly see anything else.
I brush a lock of hair behind her ear. “All I know is that we’re two consenting adults who want and love each other. All I know is that you’re having my babies, and I’m going to be part of your life from here on out, whether you want me or not.” It’s one thing if she doesn’t want to be with me, but I’ll be fucking damned before I let her fantasize about screwing some other man just to get off. “Come with me,” I say, taking her hand in mine. “I need to show you something.”
She narrows her eyes. “What?”
I don’t answer, but she doesn’t argue as I lead her away from the party and up two flights of stairs from the basement to Asher’s second floor.
“Nate,” she says, the warning apparent in her voice as I lead her into my bedroom.
“The balcony,” I say, pushing the doors open.
The night is balmy and the cool air nips at my cheeks, but I needed to get her away from everyone else. I needed to get her alone.
Her shoulders relax a bit as she walks to the rail and settles against it. “It’s beautiful tonight,” she murmurs.
There she stands. Gorgeous and framed by moonlight that shimmers on the water and stars that spread out across the black sky.
“Stunning,” I whisper. Coming up behind her, I place my hands on the railing on either side of her. “And so are you.” She stiffens slightly, and I graze the side of her neck with my lips—not kissing exactly, but definitely pushing the limits of her “friendship” rules. Damn, she smells good. Like vanilla and lavender. But I want her to smell like sex and me.
She’s so fucking beautiful in that dress—a black thing that shows off her curves and ties above her rounding belly. It’s grown in the weeks that I’ve been gone, and since I walked into the party half an hour ago, all I could think about was getting her alone and tugging on that bow, getting my hands on what waits beneath.
“What are you doing, Nate?” she asks, but even as she says it, she’s tilting her head to the side and giving me better access to her neck. Hell yes.
“I’m trying to help a friend,” I whisper against her ear, my hand finding the tie in the front of her dress. “You said we’re friends, right?”
She stiffens slightly.
“Don’t overthink this, Hanna. Just relax.” I tug on the tie, and she gasps. The dress loosens and opens.
“We shouldn’t,” she says as my hand closes over her breast.
“Are you asking me to stop?” I pinch her nipple, and she moans, arches into me. I release her breast and trail my hand down her body, circling her navel.
“Didn’t you say you weren’t going to do this unless I asked?”
“I said I wouldn’t kiss you unless you
“God, I missed you,” he murmurs in my ear.
My stomach flip-flops. “You shouldn’t say that.”
“What? I can’t miss my friend ? Are you going to tell me you didn’t miss me at all?”
Only every other second and the ones in between. “A little, I guess.”
“How are you feeling?” he asks against my ear. Then I can feel his lips curve into a smile as he adds, “Other than painfully horny, that is.”
My cheeks burn. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”
“Maybe I’m glad I did. Maybe I wanted an excuse to talk my way into your bed.”
I bite my lower lip. Hard. Because I would gladly take him up on that—even if I know I shouldn’t. And it’s not just because pregnancy has left me as horny as a teenage boy at prom. It’s because it’s Nate, and I know a little bit about what would happen if I let him talk his way into my bed. But I’d like to know more.
“We can’t,” I protest lamely, because apparently my brain has conquered my girly bits in the battle for control of my speech. “You know that.”
W HEN I walked into the party tonight, she was the first thing I saw. In a black dress and bright red heels, she’d catch any man’s eye. With her belly rounding with my babies, I could hardly see anything else.
I brush a lock of hair behind her ear. “All I know is that we’re two consenting adults who want and love each other. All I know is that you’re having my babies, and I’m going to be part of your life from here on out, whether you want me or not.” It’s one thing if she doesn’t want to be with me, but I’ll be fucking damned before I let her fantasize about screwing some other man just to get off. “Come with me,” I say, taking her hand in mine. “I need to show you something.”
She narrows her eyes. “What?”
I don’t answer, but she doesn’t argue as I lead her away from the party and up two flights of stairs from the basement to Asher’s second floor.
“Nate,” she says, the warning apparent in her voice as I lead her into my bedroom.
“The balcony,” I say, pushing the doors open.
The night is balmy and the cool air nips at my cheeks, but I needed to get her away from everyone else. I needed to get her alone.
Her shoulders relax a bit as she walks to the rail and settles against it. “It’s beautiful tonight,” she murmurs.
There she stands. Gorgeous and framed by moonlight that shimmers on the water and stars that spread out across the black sky.
“Stunning,” I whisper. Coming up behind her, I place my hands on the railing on either side of her. “And so are you.” She stiffens slightly, and I graze the side of her neck with my lips—not kissing exactly, but definitely pushing the limits of her “friendship” rules. Damn, she smells good. Like vanilla and lavender. But I want her to smell like sex and me.
She’s so fucking beautiful in that dress—a black thing that shows off her curves and ties above her rounding belly. It’s grown in the weeks that I’ve been gone, and since I walked into the party half an hour ago, all I could think about was getting her alone and tugging on that bow, getting my hands on what waits beneath.
“What are you doing, Nate?” she asks, but even as she says it, she’s tilting her head to the side and giving me better access to her neck. Hell yes.
“I’m trying to help a friend,” I whisper against her ear, my hand finding the tie in the front of her dress. “You said we’re friends, right?”
She stiffens slightly.
“Don’t overthink this, Hanna. Just relax.” I tug on the tie, and she gasps. The dress loosens and opens.
“We shouldn’t,” she says as my hand closes over her breast.
“Are you asking me to stop?” I pinch her nipple, and she moans, arches into me. I release her breast and trail my hand down her body, circling her navel.
“Didn’t you say you weren’t going to do this unless I asked?”
“I said I wouldn’t kiss you unless you
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