date,” he said simply. “We see what happens. The way normal couples do.”
“But what if it doesn’t work out?”
“What if it does?” Because he was holding her, he felt the ripple of tension that washed through her at his words. He drew back a little so he could look into her eyes.
“This is real, Charlie,” he said. “Let’s trust it. Have some faith in it.”
She swallowed. “I don’t know how to do that.”
“We’ll do it together.”
He swept a hand down her body, resting his palm against her sternum before sliding it to the small, soft swell that was their baby. In the heat of the moment he’d forgotten about The Bean—it had been all about Charlie, only Charlie—but now he mapped the gentle slope, brushing his palm over her warm skin. He’d wanted to touch her this way ever since the scan. Wanted to feel for himself what was happening inside her.
“I like you with a little belly.”
“It won’t be little for long.”
“No. I guess it won’t. I suppose we’ll need to get inventive then.”
Color flooded her cheeks. Her gaze dropped to where he was already growing hard again, her eyelashes momentarily concealing her eyes from him. When she met his gaze once more, he could see the hunger there—and the doubt and the hope.
He would do his damnedest to live up to that hope. He figured they had as much of a chance as anyone. He wanted Charlie—had never stopped wanting her—and he admired her and enjoyed her and liked her. He had a reasonable suspicion that the feeling was mutual. It felt like a hell of a lot in their favor.
“There’s something that’s been bugging me for months now,” he said, dropping a kiss onto her full bottom lip.
“What?”
He sucked her lip into his mouth, abrading it gently with his tongue.
“Last time, we were so mad for it, we rushed everything. We did everything at breakneck speed.”
“Did we?”
He smiled as he felt the subtle arch of Charlie’s body as she shifted. His gaze fell to her breasts.
“You know we did. Like we did just now.” He moved so he could kiss her breasts, sucking one nipple into his mouth and tonguing it until she squirmed. His hand remained on the swell of her belly, fingers spread. Grounding her and himself.
“I want to take it slow, Charlie. I want to lick and suck and touch you till you beg for it. I want to make you come so hard you forget everything except the two of us and what’s good between us.”
She inhaled sharply as he switched his attention to her other breast.
“I think you already did that.” Her voice was thready, breathy.
“No. Not yet.”
He tongued her nipple again, taking it in his mouth before biting ever so gently. Another surge of her hips, another gasping breath. He slid his hand from her belly into the silky hair between her legs. Her thighs fell open eagerly and he delved into slick, wet heat. He made an approving sound, tracing her lightly, deftly, paying attention when she stopped breathing and when her hips jerked involuntarily.
After a few minutes he lifted his head and looked into her face. She was flushed, her eyes half closed. Her hair had come loose from the ponytail, the strands a tousled nimbus around her head. She looked like a beautiful, aroused angel.
Holding her eye, he moved down the bed, his hand gliding from her belly to her hips. Finally he settled between her thighs, lifting one of her legs so it draped decadently over his shoulder.
Her hands were already fisted in the quilt, her eyes hot on his. Then he lowered his head and started to make good on his promise to drive her wild.
CHARLIE COULDN’T THINK. Rhys was between her legs, his mouth on her, his tongue doing things that made her want to shriek with need. She tensed, clutching at the quilt, trying to quiet the tide building inside her.
It was all too much. The shock of seeing him with another woman. The despair of finally acknowledging how deeply her own feelings ran. Then Rhys almost knocking down her door to get to her, to tell her that she was the one he wanted. That he’d wanted her ever since that night.
She gasped then bit her lip to stop herself from being any more vocal as Rhys slid a finger inside her. He continued to lap at her, his tongue rough and smooth at the same time, so hot and crazy making. Tension