Nixon (Raleigh Raptors 1)

I wrapped my arms around her and breathed in her familiar scent as every nerve ending in my body flared to life. “Liberty. God. Honey, what are you doing here?” I yanked her back, keeping my hands on her bare shoulders. The dress was strapless, gathered just beneath her breasts, and fluttered seamlessly over her growing baby bump to stop just above her knees. She was breathtaking. She was here.

“It’s Tuesday,” she said with a shrug.

“It’s Friday night,” I countered with an automatic smirk.

“Whatever. My time zones are messed up.”

We stood there staring silently at each other, both smiling like lunatics.

“Yeah, so the door behind the bar leads to a private room,” Hendrix mentioned after clearing his throat.

“How the hell would you know that?” I asked, keeping my eyes locked on Liberty for fear she’d disappear if I so much as closed my eyes.

“This isn’t the first year we’ve had the party here. It’s good to see you, Liberty.”

“You too, Hendrix.” She didn’t look away, either.

“Not that you’re actually seeing me, but I’ll accept it since you’re all smiles for my man, here.” He slapped me on the shoulder and walked away.

The air between us popped with electricity. Private room? Hell yes. I scooped her into my arms, hooking one arm beneath her knees and cradling her back with the other, careful to keep her spectacular ass covered by her dress.

“Nixon, I’m the size of a house,” she mumbled into my neck.

“I lift more than you just for fun, Lib.” Nodding to more than a few raised eyebrows along the way, I took us straight through the door Hendrix had mentioned and into a small, private room, lined with thick, sturdy tables.

Perfect.

I set Liberty down on one of the far tables, pushed her thighs apart, and stepped between them. Then I consumed her mouth in a kiss that went from sweet and relieved to hot and carnal in about two-point-three seconds. My entire body felt like a live wire.

She tasted like home, and peppermint, and pure, sweet, Liberty—a mix far more intoxicating than anything they were serving at the bar out there. I wrapped my hand around the hair cascading down her back in thick waves and held her prisoner as I made love to her mouth. Fuck, I wanted inside her. My tongue, my fingers, my cock—everything.

“Nixon,” she gasped as I sucked my way down her throat, nipping gently at her collarbone. Her fingers dug into the back of my neck.

“I need you,” I said as I lifted her breast from her dress. Fuck, had they gotten even bigger? Her nipple was darker as it tightened in the cool air. I scraped my tongue across it, and she whimpered, arching so I could take more of it. I did. When I finished with that one, I lifted the other and sucked her with little flicks of my tongue, until her tiny, keening cries came steadily, and her hips rolled against the table. “You need me, too.”

I sent my hand up her thigh, which was deliciously bare under her dress, and didn’t stop when I reached the soft, damp, silk of her underwear.

“I never—unh—denied that.” There it was—that sexy little lip bite.

I gave my mouth to her, sucking her lip free and sweeping my tongue over it as I glided past the barrier of her panties and stroked her from opening to the bud of her clit. Fuck me, she was slippery wet, already swollen and ready for me.

My cock jumped in agreement, straining at my fly.

“Oh my sweet—no!” She pushed at me suddenly, and I stumbled backward in pure shock, putting my hands up like I’d been arrested.

“No?” It wasn’t a complaint, not when the word dripped with fear.

“Yes,” she assured me, but then shook her head. “No. I mean, yes, I want you. God, you can feel how badly I want you. I feel like I won’t be able to breathe until you’re inside of me.”

Then we were in complete agreement. My gravity was off, the axis of my world upended, but I knew everything would fall back in place the minute I pushed inside of her.

“No!” she snapped, pointing at me.

I halted, not having even realized I was moving back toward her.

“We have to talk first,” she said slowly. “You and me, we never talk when we’re within touching distance, and look where that’s gotten us.”

“Not arguing.” A slow grin spread across my face as I looked lovingly at her belly, where our daughter grew. Then my stare grew hot as I lifted it to Liberty’s eyes.

“Sit on your hands!” she ordered, putting her breasts away. “We’re talking first. Sex…second. Really close second.”

I cocked an eyebrow, then lifted the fingers that had been inside her sweet little body and licked them clean.

“Not helping!”

“So talk,” I said, sitting on the edge of the opposite table, but keeping my hands in my lap. The second she said go, I was going to be all over her.