Little Secrets:Unexpectedly Pregnant
Sage faced him and she caught the fear in his eyes, the flicker of insecurity that crossed his face. She frowned. “Wait... Do you not think that you will be a good parent?”
Tyce’s expression changed to inscrutability and, because she did it herself, Sage knew that it was his way of retreating, silently telling her that he didn’t want to continue this discussion. She took the piece of paper from his hand, dropped it, and the bag of peas, to the floor. She turned to face him and placed her hand on his heart and felt the thud-thud-thud of his heart beneath her palm. “Why on earth would you think that?”
Tyce took a long time to answer. “Because I had a crappy upbringing? Because I never had chance to be a child so I have no idea how to relate to one? How am I going to deal with a child when I can barely tolerate people?”
“You seem to be able to tolerate me,” Sage pointed out.
Tyce raked his hand through his hair. “Yeah, well, you...you’re the exception to the rule.”
It would be easy to make a joke in order to lighten the mood, to push away the cloud of emotion hanging over their heads. But Sage didn’t want to, not this time, this one time. Sage lifted her hand to run her fingers along his jaw. “Tyce, you’re a man who steps up to the plate, who accepts his responsibilities, who does the right thing. Sure, you’re not the most voluble person in the world but, when you speak, you always have something valuable to say. You’re intelligent and talented—” her fingers drifted over his mouth and she handed him a small smile “—and you’re hot. Our baby will be just fine and you will be too.”
* * *
Tyce felt her words wash over him, as restorative as soft, soaking summer rain. Funny how, with a few words, Sage could make him miss something he’d never had. He’d read so many positive reviews, was the recipient of numerous awards, a million kudos about his art, but he’d never been complimented for the man he was. It made his stomach flip, his heart pound, his soul sigh.
It definitely lowered his resistance to her, made him want to throw caution to the wind and take what he constantly craved. Tyce allowed his thumb to drift across her chin and slide across her full bottom lip but if he kissed her now he wouldn’t be able to stop. He’d pull her clothes off her spectacular body and he’d kiss every patch of her skin, starting with her mouth and ending with her toes. He’d wait until she was writhing with need, unable to remember her own name, wait until she was screaming his before sliding into her and pitching them into oblivion.
He wanted her with an intensity that rocked him to his core.
Sage leaned forward, curled her fingers around his neck and rested her forehead on his cheekbone. Sparks skittered through him. “Make love to me, Tyce. Just once more.”
She’d echoed his thoughts, subconsciously picking up on his burning desire. Tyce groaned and shook his head. “It’s not a good idea, Sage. You’re still bruised and it’ll make the situation, us, so much more complicated.”
“I need not to think, I need to step out of my head,” Sage murmured. “You can do that for me because you’re the only one who can.”
“You’re hurt—”
“I’m fine and I want you. I want to remember how good we were together and I want to forget all the complications, just for a little while. You’re the best medicine for what ails me, Tyce.”
He shouldn’t; this wasn’t a good idea. They had a child to raise together, a life to navigate as co-parents and friends, hearts to protect.
“Making love to you always made me feel centered, stronger, better. Make me feel like that again, Tyce.”
He was just a man and not half as strong as he thought he was. Hell, around Sage, he wasn’t strong at all. She made him feel, made him ache, made him step out from behind his walls. He shouldn’t do this; it wasn’t smart but, like her, he was throbbing with need, desperate to have her and taste her, to lose himself in her.
Just once.
Tyce watched caution fly away on the wind as his mouth touched hers. Her lips immediately opened and he swept his tongue inside, and then he was riding the storm. Yeah, this, Sage, her hand against his chest, the fingers of her other hand raking through his hair, was what he couldn’t resist. Her mouth was pure sugar-spice and he could kiss her until time fizzled away.