Claim My Baby (Crescent Cove 2)

The question had me lifting my head. “I was right in front of you all along.”

“You were.” He traced his thumb over my lip and I smelled myself on him. That made me flush more. And it also made me sneak my tongue out for a lick. “I was fucking blind.”

“And you have contacts. Time for a new prescription?”

“Wise ass.” He flicked my nose and reached down to undo the twisted tie around my wrist, gently rubbing away the last of the marks. “Okay?”

“Better than.” I stretched my arms, working out the kinks. Then I reached back to rub my still slightly sore bottom. “You spanked me?”

“Mmm-hmm. You kept pushing your ass against my hand for more. Coming the whole time. Christ, you were hot.”

I sucked in a shuddery breath. “I think I may be a little kinky. Who knew?”

He didn’t laugh as he smoothed my hair away from my face. “Or a lot. Early days yet.”

“Yeah. I’m woefully undersexed still.” I let out a low moan as I detangled our bodies and rolled over onto my back, splaying my arms wide. “I’m not sure the bath had time to do much, but the rest? Definitely helped with some of the knots. Whoa.”

He leaned over to brush a kiss over my belly. I went still, wondering if his placement was intentional.

All too soon, he rolled off the bed. “Wait here.”

“Like I can move. Don’t forget to kill the candles,” I called, and he waved a hand over his head in acknowledgement.

Which I barely saw, because hi there, glorious naked ass. Perfect.

I was still lying there propped on my elbows, trying to summon the strength to go clean up, when he returned. He sat beside me on the bed and set a long black box on my stomach.

For a moment, I let myself pretend the box was smaller. More compact.

Romantic fool surfaces once again, likely stirred by stupendous sex.

“What’s this?” My pulse hammered in my ears. “Uh-oh. Valentine’s Day. I only got you a sweater. And I forgot to bring it.”

“A sweater?” He sounded about as pleased as if I’d told him I’d gotten him a tea set.

“Gray Irish wool.” I sniffed. “Not a department store special, Mr. Hoity-Toity.”

“I’m sure it’s lovely.” He chuckled and nudged the underside of my breast with the box. “Open it.”

I obliged him, swallowing hard as I tilted the box and the rose gold bow necklace shimmered in the candlelight. At least I was pretty sure it was rose gold. Whatever the metal, the necklace was simple and delicate and so pretty that my throat ached.

“Oliver,” I whispered. “You really bought this for me?”

Way to sound super lame.

I was the exact opposite of his usual sophisticated girlfriends. Forget that. I could barely figure out how to be a girlfriend period. I was still stuck in the phase of life where teenage boys bought their first loves a rose for Valentine’s Day. Not gorgeous bling.

“My other girlfriend was on vacation, so I figured I might as well give it to you.” He laughed as I poked his side.

My other girlfriend.

God. I should not be getting warm all over, head-to-toe, from his usage of that word. But it was so much different when I thought of myself as h

is girlfriend than when he said it.

I was a sap. Probably due to hormones. It wasn’t my fault. Non-pregnant Sage was entirely levelheaded.

“It’s beautiful.” I angled the box to get another look in the low light, and he leaned across me to turn on the bedside light. Automatically, I started to drag the sheet over me, until the look he gave me stilled my hand.