My Ex's Baby (Crescent Cove 8)

“Someone who has a solid base. You’ve never had to struggle, August.” Her prim tone rankled the last nerve I had that wasn’t already pissed the fuck off.

“You think I’ve never had to struggle? Look at the last few months. I can say you are very wrong.”

“Speaking of inane, you think Serafina isn’t? Isn’t that a Disney princess?”

“Difference is I didn’t make her my excuse for not living my life.”

She fell silent, her cheeks leaching of all color, and I wanted to rip out my tongue and feed it to the hounds the snooty Mrs. Whaley was walking three-deep across the street.

I didn’t want to hurt her. Anything but that. The idea of Kinleigh in pain caused an answering reaction inside me. I wanted to give her everything. Make her eyes light up and hear her laughter and offer h

er anything she’d ever dreamed of. Right every wrong, even the ones she wouldn’t tell me about.

But she wouldn’t let me, and I didn’t know what she could’ve done that would have stung more.

Once we reached Kinleigh’s place, she unclicked her seatbelt and climbed out. I didn’t know if she wanted me to leave. That was probably a good guess, since she went inside without even glancing back at the truck.

I couldn’t leave her like this. Couldn’t leave us like this.

We’d been trying for weeks to build something. Beyond the child we wanted to bring into the world, I knew we were creating something of our own too. Sometimes the steps we took were so small no one could see them. I couldn’t even see them most of the time.

But I knew she was trying. I knew she loved my sister, and whether or not she would ever admit it, she felt something for me too.

I turned off the ignition and dropped my head into my hands. Forcing her feelings out of her was never going to work. A promise demanded wasn’t a promise at all.

It took me a couple minutes to get myself back in line enough to follow her inside. When I knocked on her door, I was prepared for her to not answer or to flip me the bird before slamming the door in my face.

What I wasn’t prepared for? For her to grab a handful of my shirt and drag me inside.

She booted the door shut and boosted herself up on my hips, fusing her mouth to mine as her arms locked around my neck. Her taste poured into me—the fizz from the soda she’d had at the hospital while waiting for Rhiannon to be examined, the burst of fruit from her lip gloss, the wild hint of more that was simply Kinleigh. I clung to her because I was afraid I’d wake up alone in my bed, and I honestly wasn’t sure I’d survive it.

We stumbled into the living room. Fell onto the couch, still kissing, hands roaming, buttons flying, zippers sticking. A couple of tugs and it loosened. Thank fuck. She scooped her hand into my jeans and boxers to find me hard and straining. Ready for her as if I’d been born for exactly that.

I expected even in the midst of madness for her to roll her hips and take me inside—we had a purpose, after all—but that flash of pale skin above her waist was a sin I couldn’t resist. I was so fixated on touching every bit of her I could reach that I didn’t grasp where she was headed until she’d shimmied down the sofa and her thong-clad ass was in the air, her airy skirt slipping down her body to pool at her waist.

And her mouth was around my cock, sucking hard, one hand gripping my shaft and the other toying with my sac. Teasing me with her nails while she drew on me with enough heat and pressure to make me fist the cushion.

“Baby, I can’t last.”

Between the worrying and the fighting and the fucking dream of having Kinleigh’s hot, wet mouth clasped around me, I was too close to the edge already. My thigh muscles bunched beneath her as I sunk a hand into the thick ropes of her hair to guide her where I needed her to go. Farther, faster. She went, her big blue eyes never leaving mine as she pleasured me. Her tongue dipped into the slit on the head of my dick and my touch grew rougher. I couldn’t control it. Couldn’t keep from watching her perfect ass bounce in time with the strokes of her hand and her mouth.

The tingle at the base of my spine warned me to stop. Stop flexing my hips. Stop fucking her throat. Stop rocking toward a moment we couldn’t come back from.

In so many ways.

If it wasn’t about a baby, it was about us. Just us.

“Kin, I’m going to come.”

I waited for her to climb astride me and finish things the way we meant to. My balls were so full, my length throbbing. But she kept right on sucking me, adding another layer of torment when she reached down to fumble her breast out of her bra to pluck at the beaded tip. She made a deep sound of almost pain and I would’ve stopped her if she hadn’t started circling her nipple restlessly. I covered her hand with mine and helped her, squeezing her flesh, absorbing her moans humming around my length.

Dropping my head back, I let out a shout as she took me exactly where she wanted—straight into a dark, drugging place where all that existed was Kinleigh drawing out every drop of my release. She swallowed again and again while I shook and gripped her fingers like the last lifeline to my sanity.

But she didn’t release me then. She kept right on licking me, sliding her tongue up and down to chase whatever she’d missed.

All I could do was groan and pray that this never ended.

That we never ended.