Pit Stop: Baby! (Crescent Cove 4)

“Yeah?” I let my hand wander upward until I could cup the underside of her breast. They already felt fuller than they had in December, which had to be my imagination. Especially since I’d just been with her the other day and I hadn’t noticed anything different.

Wishful thinking, maybe. Crazy, since she was already pretty damn perfect.

But I was already looking forward to seeing—and feeling—her body change. Even after flipping through that freaking book.

The human dick had amazing powers of restoration. Even near mental anguish wasn’t enough to keep a good one down.

At least not when in the presence of Rylee Ford.

I rubbed my thumb over the stiff tip and she shuddered. “Maybe I should check them out. See what’s what. You know, for science.”

Her lips curved as she sidled closer. “Maybe you should.”

Fifteen

I wasn’t sure this was a good idea, but when he touched me the shouts of omgamigoingtofuckthisup went silent in my manic brain. And maybe even in my subconscious, because I’d slept relatively peacefully last night for the first time in a very long time.

It might have been the exhausted kind, but I officially had someone in my corner for the first time in what felt like forever.

I slid my fingers through his tightly shorn hair. Would our baby have curls? Is that why his was cut so ruthlessly short?

“Rylee.”

“Hmm?”

“Where’d you go?”

I blinked up at him. “I’m right here.”

“You were. And now not so much.”

I smoothed my finger over the dense hair at his temple. “It wasn’t bad. I was just wondering if you had curly hair when it’s longer.”

“Brillo pad status reporting for duty.” He nibbled his way down my neck.

“I doubt it.”

He pulled back and grinned at me. “There’s a reason I learned how to use my own trimmer. Why?”

I shrugged. “Just wondering what kind of hair the baby will have.”

“Oh.” His eyes lost a little of the lust and went soft. “Kinda hope it’s more like yours.” He undid my braid and finger combed my hair. “Thick and soft. Somehow still shiny even though it’s so dark.”

“Like my dad’s. My sister is the mailman’s kid.”

He gave me a half grin as he traced the backs of his fingers along my neck to the wide neck of my sweater. I shivered when he drifted over my

breast again. “Just how sensitive are these?” He drew my sweater down to tongue my nipple through the flimsy material of my bra.

I tipped my head back and pushed them at him shamelessly. He moaned and the vibration kicked it up one more notch. The scruff of his rapidly growing beard made me hiss.

He grinned up at me. “Sensitive—check.” He plucked at my nipple with his teeth until the snick of material releasing made me jolt.

I dragged his mouth up to mine and straddled his thighs. His hands immediately went to my ass and held me firm over his cock. There were far too many clothes between us, but right now, I needed to concentrate on his mouth before I did something crazy like dry hump him while he gave me an orgasm just by playing with my tits.

Was this a side-effect of pregnancy or just Gage?

Because while I enjoyed sex—a lot—it had never been like this before.