Entice (34 page)

“Got it!” I squeal, every nerve ending in my body tingling at once.

Barely across the entry, he kicks the door shut and stalks me down the hall to the bedroom. My pulse is pounding in my ears, a loud whooshing sound, as I watch him watch me, predatory and virile. He grabs and turns me, my back meeting the bedroom door, arms pinned above my head.

“Give me the rundown, babe. Need to know where your head’s at, what this is.”

He wants to do inventory now?

I stretch out my neck to kiss him, but he pulls back, denying me.

“Tell me, Emmy.”

He ate his own liver and accepted the club for us. He sold his bike for a family truck, for us. He moved in. He even attempted buying a carseat. I believe him, I trust now that he’s with me, not going anywhere. My head finally accepts what my heart’s been telling me is true.

We’re back to good.

“I love you, Sawyer. And I know you’re in it forever, babe. I trust you’re sure.”

“And?” He smirks, cocking a brow.

And what? I’m at loss. “I don’t know and what.” My breathing’s shallow, I’m desperate to have my hands free to rip his clothes off him.

“And what are we about to do?”

“Make love, Sawyer. Definitely make love.”

“No more trial period?”

I shake my head back and forth rapidly, then hold his eyes as I slowly lick my bottom lip.

“Em,” he roars, dropping my hands and grabbing under my thighs to lift me off the ground.

Gets him every time.

Only arms as powerful as Sawyer’s could make me feel weightless and delicate when I feel more like Humpty Dumpty.

“Put me down, I’m too heavy.” I squirm, trying to break free, but he only tightens his grip in refusal.

“I’ve got you, babe.” He pivots, walking to the end of the bed and setting me down gently. A pitiful whimper escapes me at the loss of his body mashed to mine, now instead standing over me. He picks up both my hands and pulls my arms up straight. “Leave them there,” he bosses in a deep timbre, tracing his fingertips back down, his touch so light it’s torture. Grabbing the bottom of my shirt, he whips it over my head and tosses it over his shoulder, never taking his smoldering eyes off me. My nipples bud tightly, pressing against the sheer white fabric of my bra, begging for relief. “Take it off, Em, nice and slow.”

Nice and slow…not sure I can do that. I’ve missed him, us, this…ravenous and back to good is so…good. Without delay, I unhook the back and drag the straps down my arms as slowly as I can manage, dangling the lace from the end of one finger. He goes down to his knees, those eyes, God, those eyes, dancing with mine, filled with promises. Taking my finger, strap and all, in his mouth, he sucks it back off the tip, now holding it between his teeth. He whips his head to the right and my bra goes flying as I giggle.

Smoothing his hands up the tops of my thighs, eyes on their path, he groans and squeezes. “Lie back, Emmy,” he barely gets out before he’s bent over me, his mouth caressing my stomach soft and wet. “Missed you, Shorty,” he whispers. “Missed you so much.”

I lift my head and rub the top of his with my hand as I watch him unbutton and lower the zipper on my pants. “Me too, babe.” Reflexively, I hoist my hips off the bed and let him relieve me of my bottoms and panties in a single, seamless yank, working them around my ankles and placing kisses behind the wake.

Now I lie naked before him, electricity in the air raising every hair on my body on end. No matter how much you watch your weight gain, how many bottles of cocoa butter you practically bathe in, when you’re pregnant, totally exposed adds a whole different realm of vulnerability and insecurity. I don’t even realize I’ve covered what I could of myself until he pulls my hands away and traps them at my sides.

“You’re exquisite, Emmett. Don’t ever doubt, for a second, how much I want you or how incredibly sexy I think you are.” He drops kisses over every inch of me, from the insides of my calves up to my forehead, not missing a single spot. “I love your body. In some ways, you’re even sexier pregnant. Like these.” Both of his large hands cover my breasts, kneading gently. “So fucking gorgeous,” he hums, taking the left one in his mouth, my body bowing off the mattress like I’ve been electrocuted. He “pops” his mouth off and looks up at me, sultry smirk in place. “Sensitive?”

“Mmm hmm,” I confirm, reaching for his head to force it back where it belongs. “Don’t stop, though.”

He listens, back to sucking on a very heavy, heaving breast while his hands journey downward, pushing open my thighs as they go. “When’d you do this?” He traces the lips of my recently bared pussy with one finger.

“W-with Laney. Spa day,” I pant, pushing myself against the teasing digit. “Hurt like hell. You like it?”

“Oh, I like it. I like it very much.”

Before I have time to say thank you, his tongue is there, flattened against me, covering me with almost evil, languid licks. That wicked tongue ring tickles splendidly right, doing mind-numbing things when he scrapes it along, then flicks it on my clit. When he kisses my mouth, my body, my breasts with that ring in his tongue—God, I love it—but this, this is new and indescribable.

“Sawyer,” I beg shamelessly, breathlessly, “don’t tease me.”

“Only a tease if I don’t plan to deliver,” he chuckles, hot breath on my wet flesh chilling me, “which I personally guarantee, on time.” His whole face dives in now, mouth open and sucking, stiff tongue darting in and out of my slick center while both hands grip my hips in place. Coming up for air, lips and chin coated with me, he gives me a crazed smile. “You are fucking delicious, babe, but I gotta get inside you soon. So let’s,” the index finger of his right hand glides down from my hip, “see if my girl likes this.” He spears that finger inside me, swirling it in circles then hooking it against my top wall, motioning “come here” repeatedly. His mouth joins the dance, descending to suck my little button until it’s pointed out and stiff, his tongue flicking it zealously. Hook, swirl, flick, suck—I lose track, closing my eyes and tensing up rigidly, trying to relax as the orgasm rolls through my body, up from my toes to the ends of my hair.

Long after I’m done, eyes still closed, erratic breathing back in seemingly normal range, he continues to orally fixate, lapping up all of me. “Who always hits your sweet spots?” he asks deeply, crawling up my body. “Hmm?” He bites each nipple, placing kisses along my chest, then heads for my mouth…before swerving at the last second with a chuckle. “Don’t move.”

He carefully climbs off me, then the bed, and dashes for the bathroom. I lie in bed and giggle happily when I hear him brush his teeth furiously then gargle with mouthwash—he remembered! I want to burst into tears. I’m the luckiest girl in the world.

He comes back in the room sporting a proud smirk. “Ah, kiss me breath once again.”

I hold out my arms for him to join me, but he pulls on my hand instead, so I sit up.

“Overdressed here, babe. Wanna help me?”

That’s right. Dazed and sated, I’d completely forgotten he was still fully clothed. Using his hand and hip for leverage, I stand, my hands gliding up his chest, unbuttoning on the down slide. One by one, I free the buttons, spreading out the sides of his shirt. I’m not sure you can say you’ve seen a chest until you’ve seen Sawyer’s, a lean bulk of defined, cut muscles, golden skin, and pierced nipples. It never gets old, sending my butterflies stirring with every glimpse. I love his tattoos, lining his arms and ribs, but I adore his chest, a large piece of untouched art. He helps with the cuffs, dropping his arms to his sides so I can push the shirt down and off, kicking it aside with my foot. I lavish the beautiful plane with adoration, only lifting my mouth from it to tug on his nipple rings, his head falling back on a groan. Virtually hairless, his dark happy trail might as well be a flashing arrow leading me right where I need to go. Making quick, jerky-handed work of his belt and fly, I strip him down as he toes off his socks, and soon I have a gloriously naked Sawyer Beckett in front of me. We stand so close my nipples brush against his chest, his long, thick erection poking the top of my stomach.

Unmoving but our hands, we do a dance of exploration, reconnecting together; it’s been so long, we both study and worship like it’s our first time. Fingertips and palms relearn every curve of the other, kisses and moans breaking the reverent silence when certain places are touched. I back up until I feel the bed against my legs and with one hand, bring him down with me.

“Emmy, babe,” he croons in my ear, sucking under it, “we may have to do this a little different.”

“Do whatever you want,” I murmur, relishing in having him so close, my hands gripping his rock hard ass to pull him closer.

“Roll over, babe, nice and easy,” his voice soothes as he helps manipulate me. “Ah Emmy,” he gropes, “dat ass, Shorty, I love it.” He bites first one cheek then the other and his hands slide to my hips, pulling them up and back, forcing me onto my hands. “Want you like this, Emmy girl,” he traces the seam, “ass up, bouncing for me. You want it from behind, baby?”

I crave his dirty mouth, missed it, really. Anyone ever offers him a stick of Orbit, I’ll bitchslap it out of their hand. “However you wanna give it to me, babe. As long as it’s now.”

“That’s my girl,” he drawls, low and sexy, as he works his crown inside of me. “Damn Em, you gotta relax for me. Don’t tense up, babe, you’re tight enough already.” He fondles my ass cheeks, moving them up, around, out, as he gradually pulls back a bit then forward again as much, building up my natural lubrication and easing his entrance. “Mhm yeah,” a bass rumbles from his chest, “there we go. Goddamn, you feel good, unfucking real.” Patiently, he gives it to me nice and slow, applying a light pressure on my back, popping my ass up higher for his taking. I’m halfway to another orgasm by the time his groin is flush against my ass, fully inside me, and he must notice. “Not ready, Em, stay with me baby. Lemme feel for a while.”

The hair on his legs tickles the back of my thighs, his breath whispering over my spine. Long, gradual drags in and out, his growl with each, turn my insides to lifeless mush as he basks in me, us. I hold off the best I can, and then, he shocks me. I hear the slurp and pop, wondering what the heck, when a wet fingertip starts to tease around my, uh, my ass…hole.

Definite new territory.

He feels me stiffen and lays lightly on my back now, whispering hotly in my ear. “You don’t like it, say stop and I will. But I think you’re really gonna like it.”

I drop my head ‘til my forehead meets the mattress, pushing my ass back against his finger. He circles it several times, increasing his thrusts inside me, until he knows I’m once again fixated on the power of his surges into me and not the oncoming experiment. My legs tremble under me as the tip of his finger breaches me there, a sting drawing a hiss from between my teeth. “Relax,” pump, “push back into it, baby, trust me to take you there.”

As I do as he’s said, I can feel his finger go deeper, and it goes from slightly uncomfortable to euphoric in a flash. “Ahhhhhh,” I wail, pushing back harder, faster, his hips adjusting seamlessly to my set rhythm.

He takes me hard now, punishing cock in my pussy, long, seeking finger in my ass, and I peel the paint off the walls as I banshee scream through the most powerful orgasm any woman has ever had. Hope he didn’t want me to wait for him, ‘cause a cement wall guarded by starving pit bulls couldn’t have stopped that explosion.

There’s still splotches of color bursting behind my eyes when I hear his pants increase, his balls slapping against me angrily. Somewhere in there he slipped his finger out of me and wrapped that hand, along with the other, on my hips, holding me steady to meet the force of his cock slamming into me.

“Fuckkkkk, Emmett!” he roars, giving a few jerky, final thrusts before he stills, twitching and emptying himself inside me. Kissing up my sweaty back, he bites down on my shoulder. “I love you, Shorty. So damn much.”

“Me too, babe. Now help me up, I have a freakin’ Charlie horse in my calf.”

He laughs loudly, body shaking with it as he slides from me and jumps up to stand by the bed. “Let me massage it out. Which leg?”

I roll onto my back, whimpering with the cramp but laughing too, and point to my left leg.

He lifts it, working magic on the tensed muscle. “You need more potassium, babe. Want a banana shake?”

“With strawberries?” I make puppy dog eyes and poke out my bottom lip.

“I’ll see what I can do.” He winks, setting my leg back down. “Can you walk to a warm bath? I’ll bring it to ya.”

And now I know why women go through what I hear is excruciating, unforgettable pain, and yet, still get pregnant again. I mean, besides the whole loving children, miracle of birth thing.

You get to be the baby when you’re having a baby.

Chapter 34

Dude, Where’s My Dignity?

—Sawyer—

“
C
an I help you?”

On edge, I startle and turn, sending up a silent prayer that help is, in fact, on its way. Uh huh, I see what you’re doing here…can’t get the men to just walk in a bookstore, so you make sure the girl who helps you is even hotter than the girl who greeted you at the door. Brilliant marketing—make it an eye candy ‘no, sir, you’re not really in a’ bookstore ploy.

“Fuck, I hope so.”

I must scare the salesgirl, because she backs way up, eyes flying wide open.

“So I read the book about what to expect for the pregnant woman. Can you show me the book about what the hell the guy’s supposed to do to cope?”

“Oh, whoa.” She reaches out and grabs the bookcase as it teeters from both my hands being braced on it, about to fall. “Let’s see what we have. Follow me.”

Lady, I will follow you down the stairs to hell if you find me the “Demons Have Taken Over My Sweet Woman” instruction manual.

Literally, almost overnight, she snapped, and now everything I do is wrong. Even Dr. Greer, who thinks I’m insane and usually plasters herself against the farthest wall from me, patted my shoulder with a pitying frown at the last visit.