“Shh,” he responded, and he braced himself above her, feeling her long, lissome body beneath his. “I can’t stop thinking about you. What it was like that night. How you felt in my arms. I can’t pretend it doesn’t exist, Liz.” He slid his mouth down the column of her neck and was gratified when she gasped in response. His hips marked her, once, twice, and she pushed up against him.
He was half on top of her, half on the sofa now and it freed up one hand. He skimmed it down the soft fabric of her dress, felt the hard pebbled tip of her nipple against his palm. He slipped his fingers inside the black jersey, encountering a satin-and-lace bra that only made his pulse beat harder. Caught up in the moment, he unfastened the front clasp and tasted the sweet skin of her breast as her body jerked and thrust up to meet him.
And then her hands were pushing against his shoulders and she squirmed against him. “Stop,” she commanded hoarsely. “Oh, Chris, we’ve got to stop.”
He froze.
“What’s wrong?” He looked down into her face. Was it the baby? Was she uncomfortable, did something happen? He had no experience with pregnant women, though he was pretty sure it was okay to make love during the pregnancy.
“It’s just... It’s too fast.” Her skin was flushed and her breathing heavy. “I can’t... I’m not ready... I know it sounds stupid considering...”
The phrases came one on top of the other. “Considering we already went fast?” he asked, trying to steady his breathing.
“Yeah. That.” She moved one arm awkwardly, grabbing at the fabric of her dress to conceal her revealed breast.
He gazed down into her eyes, trying to isolate his brain from his body, which considering the way he was feeling at the moment, was a monumental challenge. “I want you,” he stated, his voice low. “I wanted you that first night. And even if you weren’t having my baby, I’d want you now. You should know that.”
Her body trembled, pinned beneath his.
“But I am having your baby. And I...I need to be very, very sure this is what I want. There are no take-backs.”
He closed his eyes and forced himself to inhale deeply once, twice, three times. When he opened them again she was staring up at him, her hair down and spread over the sofa cushion, so similar to that night in the motel room that he had to grit his teeth to keep from kissing her again.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured.
He sighed. “Don’t apologize. If you’re not sure, you’re not sure. That’s all. Me?” He raised an eyebrow at her and tried a smile. “I’m very sure.”
To his surprise she treated him to a saucy smile in return. “I can tell.”
Damned if he didn’t feel himself blush.
He pushed himself off her and sat back on the sofa, running his hand over his hair. “I suppose I should go then.”
“Probably.” Despite being the one to call a halt to their bit of fun, she sounded disappointed.
“You gonna be okay?” he asked.
She nodded.
He put his hands on his knees, preparing to push himself up when she put her hand on his thigh. “Chris? This is going to sound really strange...and I haven’t changed my mind...but would you mind kissing me again? Nice and slow? It was so good before.”
Hell, did she realize what she was asking? Her request went straight to his heart. It must have taken a lot for her to ask that. And the sweet yearning in her voice made him wonder if she had been missing out on romance for too long. All work and no play...
He leaned over, moving his upper body only, and met her gaze when their lips were only separated by maybe two inches. He hovered there for a moment, staring into the depths, letting her know that in this moment he was 100 percent involved.
Then, and only then, did he kiss her again, pushing down the urgency pulsing through his veins, taking his sweet time nibbling her lips, kissing the corner of her mouth as her lips dropped open and her breath came out in a jagged rush.
“God, you’re good at that.”
He smiled against her lips. “So are you, darlin’.”
And still he kept his hands to his sides, his body planted firmly on the sofa, holding tight to the thin cord of restraint he possessed.
She was so sweet. Sweet and way more innocent than he would have expected. The girl from the motel, the girl from five minutes ago beneath him on the sofa, intoxicated his mind and body. But this girl...this girl had the ability to wrap herself around his heart.
He pushed back, rested his forehead against hers. “I can’t,” he said, shaken. “I can’t go on and keep my promise not to touch you. Unless you’ve changed your mind...”
She shook her head slightly, but enough that he understood her denial.