'Tis The Season

She glances up at me, surprised.

“Without you, I’d be sitting here alone, drinking too much mulled wine and missing my family. I’m sorry that the situations that led you here were so stressful. But I’m glad for the company. Your company.”

She cups her belly. “James ...”

“I’m attracted to you, Faye. I know you have a lot going on right now, but there’s no reason why we can’t be friends.”

She bites her lip and peers up at me through long, black lashes. “Friends?”

“For now. But if we stay in contact, I’m going to want more.”

“More?”

“As much as you’d let me have.”

“Why? Look at me.”

I rake my gaze over her. “Trust me, I am.”

“I’m six months pregnant with another man’s baby.”

“It’s over with him, right?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Then I don’t see the problem.”

“James, you’re a sexy British veterinarian with his own practice.”

I grin. “You think I’m sexy?”

“Yes.”

I step closer to her and run my fingers through her thick hair. “The feeling is mutual. I have nothing but time. I don’t want you to feel rushed. But I did want you to know where I stand.”

Her hazel-colored eyes darken to the color of chocolate. She opens her legs and grabs a fistful of my shirt, tugging me closer.

“I can’t promise you anything, but I can tell you I’ve spent the past few months in a constant state of unfulfilled arousal. I would not mind your help with that.”

“I could.” I lick my lips. “You want to be friends with benefits?” I clarify.

“To start.” Her hopeful expression leads me to believe there’s room for growth, and though we just met, I’m positive that’s a chance I want to take.

“We should test the waters out before we agree, don’t you think?” I bend over her, gripping her hip as she leans back in the seat and tilts her head back.

“Most definitely.” Her eyes stare into mine as our lips meet. Goosebumps rise over my body. Heat pools in my belly. She parts her lips, and my tongue dips in. Her eyes drift shut as I learn the flavor and feel, restraining myself from roaming her body. She sucks on my tongue. Growling, I angle my head to deepen our connection as our tongues tangle, and her nails dig into my chest. My lungs scream for oxygen, and I move back.

She whimpers. I bury my fingers in her hair and tighten them, tugging her head back to bare her neck. Nipping at her flesh, I kiss my way down the curve of the breasts that have been taunting me. I suck on her collarbone and trace the scoop neck of her shirt. She shudders, and I move lower, burying my nose between her breasts. She gasps, and I pull back. “Too much?”

“More.”

Kneeling, I push up her shirt and brush my fingers over the round curve of her belly. She moves her hands to cover it, and I grunt, forcing them away.

“Don’t hide from me. Every single part of you is beautiful.” I kiss my way up to the breasts, begging for my attention. Swollen, the nipples protrude, straining against the black lace bra scarcely containing them. I suck one stiff peak into my mouth as I cup the other one. Groaning, she arches her back, forcing more into my mouth. I hum, mindful of how hard I suck. She shudders, and I suckle, plucking its twin gently. The wanton sounds spilling from deep in her throat have me straining against my zipper. I release her with a pop.

“No,” she protests.

“Shh. You deserve to be ravished in a better setting.”