Have My Baby (Crescent Cove 1)

Or next year.

“I’m getting the feeling you’re angry.”

“Oh, are you? Are you now? What was your first clue?” She crouched to pick up the plastic bucket and slotted scoop, and I quickly rushed over to take it out of her hands before it left a dent in my wall. “Don’t crowd me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” I tossed the toys aside and hooked my fingers in the bodice of her dress, hauling her against me. “You know, I thought this purple was my favorite color on you, but I was wrong.” I bit down on her lower lip, tugging it between my teeth. “It’s green.”

She shoved at my chest and moved her face away from mine. “You think this is funny?”

“More like ridiculous.”

“I don’t know what idea you had about this whole impregnate-my-bestie scenario, but while this is going on, you’re not going to be hitting on other chicks.”

“Noted.”

“And if I actually do get knocked up, you’re not going to be bumping uglies with anyone while I’m waddling around in muu-muus. It’s not going to happen.”

“Also noted. Will you be barefoot while walking in muu-muus? I’ll probably need pictures if so.”

She poked me in the side. “This isn’t a joke. I get that you just can’t help being so damn sexy that women throw themselves at you right and left, but you better freaking try.”

I cocked a brow and framed her cheeks between my hands. “I’m going to need you to repeat that. All of that. Like twenty times. Feel free to add some heavy breathing around the sexy part for effect.”

Her lips almost twitched into a smile, but she wouldn’t meet my gaze.

“Hey.”

Nothing.

“Ally Cat,” I said softly, and she looked up at me, her golden brown eyes wary. “I’m not interested in that woman. In any woman, for that matter, except the one standing in front of me.”

“I didn’t say you had to lie. Just while you’re dipping your wick in this pot, you’re not going to in any other. All I’m saying.”

“Your pot is all I need or want.” I nearly added more. So much more. Every hour that passed, I had more inside me for her, and I was just beginning to untangle what that might mean.

But she wouldn’t have believed me anyway. Not now. Maybe not ever.

The corner of her mouth ticked up. “You do have your own form of sweet talking, gotta give you that.”

“I have my own form of many things, as you’re learning.” I brushed a kiss over her ear. “I asked you what your Facebook relationship status was. I think we need to come up with one for this.”

“Oh, we do, do we? Because being Facebook official is very important.”

“It is.” I reached down and cupped her ass through her thin dress, swallowing a groan at the barely there outline of her panties beneath. Would they be white lace? Blush pink? Maybe some other nearly translucent color that would never be enough to hide her swollen pussy from my gaze. “If another guy comes near you, even looks at you, I may rip his eyes out. Just fair warning.”

“Is that so?” Her breathless question had me tightening behind the zipper of my pants.

“So you might want to consider a Facebook status as a humanitarian gesture. A warning sign to save other men from a fate worse than death.”

“I’ve never seen you get violent. Or jealous. For that matter, I’m simply not the kind of woman men go batty for.” She shrugged and shifted her feet. “I think it’s because I’m missing the feminine gene. I’m wearing this dress right now, and all I want to do is take it off and get back into my jeans.”

“You think dresses are what make you feminine?” I looped a couple of strands of her hair around my fingers and tugged. “I’d say what makes you feminine is that you’re the bravest, smartest, most kickass woman I’ve ever known.” I lowered my voice. “And the way you purr deep in your throat when you come. That too.”

“What am I, a cat?” But there was no mistaking the pleasure in her voice.

Pleasure I’d put there, just by telling the truth.

My reply was smothered by her placing her hand over my mouth. “No pussy jokes. We have to get back upstairs.”