together the moment we’re naked, kissing wildly. His hands are everywhere at once, and then he’s lifting me. He breaks the kiss and sets me in the center of the bed.
I open my arms to him, and he joins me, resting his weight on his forearms. He strokes my hair back. “You sure this is okay with the baby?”
I smile at his concern. “Yes.”
He pushes inside slowly, watching my expression the whole time, his brows knitted in concentration. I love this man.
I wrap my arms and legs around him. “Promise it’ll be okay. Do what you want.”
He thrusts slow and deep, his head dipping to nuzzle my neck. I stroke the broad planes of his back. All this muscle and power, yet he holds himself back, treating me with such care. Tears spring to my eyes.
He lifts his head, stilling. “What’s wrong?”
“How did you know I was crying?”
“You felt far away.”
I stare at him. “How do you feel that?”
“I dunno, Harp. We’re connected. What’s wrong?”
“I just love you so much, and you’re so tender with me.”
“Of course I’m tender. I love you.”
I nod. “It’s okay, I’m better now. Kiss me.”
He does. I can feel him holding back this time, and I realize he’s right about our connection. And that just makes me completely relax and let go. He responds instantly, his mouth hungry, his thrusts harder and faster. Pleasure cascades over me in waves, building and building.
He breaks the kiss, gazing deep into my eyes, and it’s all there—the intense pleasure, the love, the care he takes with me. He shifts, hitting just the right angle, and I go off, pleasure bursting through me as I rock against him. He takes his own pleasure, thrusting deep over and over before his head throws back in ecstasy, the cords of his neck standing out.
I stroke his neck, and he grabs my hand and kisses it. “You good?” he asks. “Everything good with the baby?”
I beam. “We’re both great.”
He pulls out and rolls to my side. “Thank God. I don’t think I could keep my hands off you for months.”
I curl up against his side and stroke his chest. “Merry Christmas, Garrett.”
He kisses me and tucks me close. “Merry Christmas and many more.”
“You know my grandmother is hoping you’ll go back tomorrow to get your motorcycle so she can see you for Christmas.”
“I planned on it. Besides, my whole family’s in Villroy. Time to spend Christmas with my new family.”
My heart squeezes. I climb on top of him and pepper his face with kisses. “Wonderful, wonderful man.”
He twines his fingers together and puts them under his head, a smug smile across his gorgeous face. “Got that right.”
I nip his bottom lip. “Beast.”
He arches his brows. “So you finally see it, huh? That’s what my brothers call me because of these guns.” He pulls his arms down and flexes for me.
“Beast on the inside.”
“Round two, you say? That’s what I’m hearing with your sexy talk.” He rolls on top of me and nips along my neck.
I laugh and hug him tight. He’s mine forever, and I’m so lucky to have a future with him. My beast, my teddy bear, my love.
Epilogue
Garrett
Two days before New Year’s, I bring Harper to my parents’ house. I was waiting for them to return from Villroy to share our big news in person.
Harper grabs my hand tightly as we walk up the front stoop. Joe’s behind us. He sticks with us when Harper’s in public, but here he doesn’t need to go ahead to scout it out.
“Are you nervous?” I ask her.
She lifts our joined hands. “Was it my death grip that gave it away?”
“Hey, if Queen Joan is on board, King Daniel will be too. He’s the one to watch. My mom just loves babies. She’ll focus on that.”
“Oh great, put it that way.”
I ring the bell.
Harper takes an audible breath.
“Relax,” I tell her.
“Garrett, this is big—”
“Hello!” My mom opens the door. “Come in. So good to see you both. Hi, Joe.” She steps back. My dad is in the entryway to greet us too.
“We missed you at Christmas,” my dad says.
“I know,” I say. “Couldn’t be helped this year. Maybe next year.”
“Maybe?” he says. “Definitely. You’re invited too, of course, Harper.”
“Please join us in the living room,” my mom says. “We got in yesterday, and we’re still a little confused with the time zones.”
“It’s dinnertime to us,” my dad puts in. We’re here for lunch.
“Mind if I check out the pool table downstairs?” Joe asks my