Dirty Game

She nodded. “You’re not mad?”

“God no. I’m happy. I’m happy you’re back. I’m happy about the baby. I’m happy about what I’m getting ready to do.”

“And what’s that?” She tried to wiggle out of my hold.

“Make you happy, darlin’. Everything that makes you happy.”

She let her shirt fall over her shoulders. “I love you, Blake. I love you so much.”

Her lips found mine the shadows of the linen closet and I kissed her like it was the beginning.

39

Sierra

The world spun upside down and for the first time it wasn’t because I was pregnant, it was because Blake kissed me with the kind of fury and passion I’d longed for since the day he left me on the beach.

I had dreamed about this moment. Now that it was finally happening, I couldn’t catch my breath. I held on to him. His tongue slipped between my lips, twisting and curling against mine.

I shivered when he tugged the corners of my shirt. The air danced over my skin.

“It’s cold,” I murmured.

“I’d make a fire out in the living room, but I don’t think we have that kind of time,” Blake growled into my neck.

I shook my head. “No, we don’t.”

He scooped me up. “Lots of covers in here.”

I nodded. “Lots. So, so many blankets.”

He pulled a few of the quilts from the shelves, padding the floor. He lowered me on my back.

“I promise you won’t be cold long.”

I grinned, greedily sucking at his lips. I had dreamed about his lips and the firmness of his arms. I never thought I’d be with him again like this ever. I thought those dreams were all I had left.

Blake lifted the shirt over my head and slid my bra from my shoulders.

“Holy shit, baby. Do you know what these do to me?”

He held one of my breast in his hand. It was heavy and sore, but he soothed the ache with the heat from his tongue. I whimpered as it lashed over my nipple, hardening it instantly.

“So fucking perfect, baby.” He sucked me into his mouth, gulping and licking. Pressing until his teeth nipped the edge of the sensitive points.

I inhaled sharply. My body responded differently now. Everything was heightened.

“Oh, Blake.”

He pushed me back on the soft bed he had made. I had already forgotten how cold I had been as he slipped the jeans from my waist.

I laid before him. The woman who loved him. The woman who had always loved him. The woman who was carrying his baby.

He pushed my legs apart, running a finger over the fabric of my cotton panties.

“I love how wet you get when I touch you,” he groaned.

I bucked a little, aching for his touch. Aching for the friction of his fingers against my clit. It was throbbing and pulsing for attention.