He cracks a smile at the ridiculous absurdity of that absolutely true capsule summary of what went wrong. “Me too,” he says wryly.
I glance down at his chest as I continue to rub it. “The way he worded it was ugly, but maybe he didn’t mean it that way.”
“He did.”
I nod because I know he did, I was just trying to make him feel better.
I’m not sure how to do that, but I know how to take his mind off it, at least.
Reaching for his shoulder, I lift myself and reposition so I’m straddling his lap. He looks up with interest, but I play at innocence, placing a hand on either side of his shoulder and kneading. “Let’s work some of that tension out of these powerful muscles.”
“Powerful, hm?” he murmurs, his gaze appraising.
I nod emphatically. “Oh yes. I love your shoulders. So sexy.”
“Is that so?” he murmurs, his hands settling on my hips.
“Mm-hmm.” I slide my hands down his biceps. “And these arms…” I stop rubbing one to fan myself.
Amusement lightens his tone. “With your artful subtlety it’s hard to tell, but are you by any chance trying to distract me?”
“Maybe,” I say, flashing him a teasing smile. “Is it working?”
He lets go of my waist with one hand and slides it up the delicate column of my neck. His touch is so gentle, gooseflesh rises and my eyes drift shut.
Then his grip turns to iron and my heart does a freefall. He yanks me closer, biting my bottom lip and then kissing it before I even realize why it stings.
I’m startled, but I kiss him back. Something molten and desperate twists through my gut. It feels like desire, but it has fingers or claws and seems to scoop out my innards so I feel hollow and empty without him inside me.
His rough voice hits my frayed nerves like an electric shock. “Do you know what would really make me feel better?”
Languid heat spreads through me and I lick my lips. I feel the icy fingertips of fear, but I feel arousal, too.
Rotating my hips, I grind against his cock. Not too hard, just enough to excite him.
His grip on my hip tightens. His grip on my throat does, too, but he stops before he can cut off my ability to breathe for even a split second. “No breath play,” he murmurs as his lips follow the trail down my neck. “Not while you’re pregnant.”
“Oh,” I say, my voice a little tremulous. “Right. That makes sense.”
“Be a good girl and grind that sweet pussy on me again,” he commands.
I bite down on my bottom lip, a little breathless as I do what he says.
“You like that?” His voice is so smooth, so sure. He knows I did.
He’s right.
He nods, pulling me closer and ghosting his lips across mine. I feel his breath on my mouth as he asks, “Do you want to be a really good girl for me, Hallie?”
His face is so close, I can only nod a little without bumping into him.
But I do. He knows I do.
His lips tug up, and it feels somehow like a reward. “Good. Then do it again… but remove your panties first.”
Chapter Forty Three
Hallie
Calvin decides that since I have good news to share with Charity and they haven’t had a chance to meet, we’ll have a small engagement party to celebrate. Just a small gathering with a few close friends.
The party is set for a Saturday night, so I’m not surprised during the day when people show up at the apartment while he’s at work.
A party planner comes with her team to decorate and move furniture in the rooms where we expect to entertain.
Chef Ryan comes early and brings a helper since Calvin only likes tastes of things and ordered a dozen hors d'oeuvres.
But then there’s one that surprises me.
I’m sitting at the island, shamelessly sampling the appetizers Ryan has finished making. Calvin planned more of a Mediterranean theme for the food tonight and I am here for it.
“Mm,” I murmur, stuffing another chicken and pesto pastry puff into my mouth. I chew slowly to savor it, then look up at Chef Ryan as I swallow. “I know you probably get this a lot, but will you marry me?”
Ryan smirks. Before he can answer, a surprise guests appears behind me noiselessly like a creature out of someone’s nightmares.
“I believe you’re already spoken for.”
I recognize that brash voice now. I turn to look at Arson. “Um. What are you doing in my house?”
Another guy is with him. He takes off down the hall while I stare, mouth agape.
“Excuse me,” I call after the guy, then look at Arson. “What are you doing?”
“Don’t worry, Calvin knows we’re here. We’re checking the place for bugs.” Seeing my face, he adds, “Not that kind of bugs. Jesus. The kind a tech genius might hide if he wanted to listen to people without them knowing it.” He looks at Chef Ryan and shakes his head. “Can you believe this chick? Thinks I’m in here looking for cockroaches or something. What do I look like, the fucking exterminator?” He, too, reaches over and nabs one of the delicious pastry puffs, but he steals one off the plate Ryan gave me.