I sigh, letting my head fall back against his shoulder. I haven’t even known him for long, but I’m relieved at the thought of being with him tonight. Now his hand drifts down my chest, catching one of my breasts and weighing it in his hand. My B-cups aren’t much to begin with, but in his big hands, they feel even smaller. His thumb thrums my nipple, which beads for him so he can roll it between blunt, calloused fingers.
Reaching my arm back to wind around his neck, I pull him closer. “Sin.”
He bends his head and kisses my neck, causing pleasure to spark and explode all along my nerve endings. There’s a stubbly shadow along his jaw, and after his soft lips kiss my skin, that stubble follows up with a ro
ugh little scratch. I squirm against his hard body, my neck lolling to the side to give him greater access. I’m in heaven as his fingers tease my nipple, as his strong arm locked around my waist holds me close, as his mouth teases and soothes my neck. I can’t even think straight. My eyes drift shut and I let him kiss my neck and obliterate my senses for a few more heavenly minutes. I might stay here indefinitely, but then Sin pulls me out of my fog and pushes his hands inside the thin fabric of my sleep shorts. His hands skim my hips as they drag the material down, then he pulls me back against him again and runs his hand over my bare ass. My skin tingles as his face moves close, his lips finding my neck again.
Oh, God, he can do that forever. The hand on my ass moves to my hip so he can keep me anchored, then he toys with my breasts again.
“Mm, I like these,” he murmurs.
Pleasure floods me and I smile. “Yeah? Not too small?”
“Perfect.” He kisses the shell of my ear, murmuring, “They’ll get bigger, though.”
My eyebrows rise, but as he bites my earlobe, the breath rushes out of me. It takes a minute before I can find my voice to inform him, “I know I’m a little on the young side, but I’m pretty much done growing. Sorry to disappoint.”
His hand leaves my breast and coasts to my abdomen. My stomach twists, thinking he’s going to drift lower, but he stays right there, placing his big palm across my flat tummy and rubbing. “Give it a few months, you’ll see.”
My jaw opens slightly and I turn to stare up at him. “Are you serious? You have no shame.”
Smiling faintly, he agrees, “None.”
25
Laurel
Sin’s big hand caresses my tummy as I stand in his embrace, like he’s being sweet instead of pushy. It shouldn’t melt me. He’s being a bossy jerkface, trying to manipulate me. I can see that, I can admit it, but the tenderness in his caress disarms me when I want to be annoyed at him. It feels real, and that confuses me. If anything, if Sin really liked me, I would think he wouldn’t want me pregnant by someone else. Never in my wildest imaginings would I have imagined a guy who liked me trying to convince me I should procreate with another man.
“Tell me something,” I say.
He doesn’t answer, just kisses the shell of my ear again.
“Obviously we both know I’m leaving in a few days, that I’m only a guest star here.”
Catching my earlobe between his lips, he sends goosebumps coursing all over me. Releasing it, he murmurs noncommittally. “If you say so.”
“But say I did stay—which I’m not.”
“Of course.”
It shouldn’t take so much courage to get this next part out, given that he’s touching my naked body and kissing his way toward the nape of my neck, but it still feels daunting. “And say you and I liked each other, and maybe wanted to keep doing… whatever this is.”
“Mm hmm?”
“My being pregnant with Rafe’s baby wouldn’t be a problem for you?”
His response comes too easily to trust. “Nope.”
I turn my head to look at him again. “Why?”
“Why would it?” he asks.
My eyes widen and I lean away from his lips, needing full use of my brain. Sin lets go of me so I can turn around. I cross my hands over my chest and raise expectant eyebrows at him. “What do you mean, why would it? Because a pregnancy leads to a baby. Even if you’d be cool with my body’s physical changes, those are only the symptoms. Seven months from now, I would be a mother. I wouldn’t be able to legally buy alcohol, and I would be a one-stop insta-family—and if it’s a boy, not even a normal single mom, but apparently the mom to the next Morelli heir.”
“I’m already irrevocably involved with the Morellis,” he tells me, shrugging. “That doesn’t change anything for me.”
“Rafe is your boss,” I tell him, in case he forgot.