The Rock Star's Baby Bargain - The Bangover

“I don’t need it,” I pant between kisses. “I’m almost there. I just need you to tell me.”

“Tell you what, beautiful?” he asks tightly as his fingers dig into my ass, and his cock grinds deeper, faster.

“To come,” I whisper, my head already spinning and my skin flushed hotter than the steamy water. “Tell me when you want me to come.”

“You like it when I tell you what to do?” he asks, his breath hot against my neck.

“Yes,” I gasp, clinging to his shoulders. “Please, yes.”

“Then come for me. Come on my cock, Colette. I want to feel your pussy tight on my dick. Right now.”

My head falls back, and a primal sound escapes my chest as my body locks down around his cock. My inner walls squeeze as he jerks inside me, and feeling him losing control with nothing between us is every bit as hot as it was last night.

I hook my ankles behind him and pin him to me, circling my hips as I coax every sparkle of pleasure from the moment.

After a long beat with nothing but the hush of the shower spray hitting the tile and our ragged breathing to disturb the silence, he says, “I told my manager about the baby plan.”

I pull back far enough to get a look at his face, but he doesn’t seem worried or plagued by regret. Still, I wrinkle my nose. “I’m guessing he thought it was a terrible, no-good, very bad idea.”

Zack grins. “Pretty much, but it put things in perspective for me. It’s not something to worry about or a bridge to cross before we reach it. If it happens, I trust we’ll be grown-ups and put the baby’s needs first, no matter what’s going on between us personally.”

“No doubt,” I assure him, brushing wet hair from his forehead with a smile. “I know you might have heard differently from Fernando, but I’m very easy to get along with.”

Zack’s eyes darken. “Fernando is an idiot. No doubt in my mind about that now.”

I arch a brow. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

“He let you get away,” he says in a soft but intense voice that sends more shivers—and a hint of foreboding—prickling across my skin. “Now, I have a serious question for you, Colette.”

I hold his gaze. “Yes, Zack?”

“How do you like your eggs? I take mine over easy, and I like to dip my toast in the runny parts. My last girlfriend thought that was disgusting, but I’m not about to change. Not for her or anyone else.”

Biting back a smile, I nod. “Nor should you. A man should be free to eat his eggs any way he sees fit. Even if it is disgusting.”

Zack curses beneath his breath. “You, too? Why is everyone so against over easy?”

“Because runny yolks look like diseased clown sperm and probably taste even worse? I don’t have any experience with clown sperm, but…”

“That’s disgusting,” Zack says, but he’s fighting a smile as he sets me down and reaches for the soap. “What’s wrong with you?”

“It’s not me,” I say, laughing. “It’s the eggs!”

“I should wash your mouth out with this.” He holds up the tiny bar between us. “But I’m going to want to kiss you later, so you’re safe. For now.”

I wipe a hand across my forehead and flick water against the wall. “Whew. Close one.”

We continue to tease and kiss and laugh as we take turns in the spray, and by the time Zack steps out to dry off while I rinse the conditioner from my hair, I’ve almost forgotten about the flicker of fear.

But the sight of my bare ring finger—the one Fernando wanted so badly to tag as his own—banishes the smile from my face.

I love how possessive and bossy Zack is in bed, but the last thing I need is another controlling man in my life. I try to tell myself I’m reading too much into an innocent comment, but Zack’s tone when he said, “he let you get away,” keeps echoing in my head.

He didn’t sound like he was teasing or offering a lighthearted compliment. He seemed like a man who refuses to let the things—or people—he wants slip through his fingers.

Well, do you really want to slip through his fingers? Because as far as I can tell, his fingers are the best fingers. Best ever. If he wants to be more than friends, why not give it a try?

Because he’s a rock star who’s on tour most of the year, I remind the inner voice, and I want a partner who sleeps next to me more nights than not. It would be doomed from the start.

It’s not doomed. It’s too hot to be doomed. You just need to have more sex and stop worrying so much.

I’m pretty sure that’s the last thing I need, but that doesn’t stop me from sneaking up behind Zack while he’s putting gel in his hair or tugging the towel from his hips. And when he returns the favor, I don’t try to cover myself back up.