by Megan Green
“If I wanted you to stay somewhere else, I would’ve taken you somewhere else. You really think I’d bring you all the way to Seattle and dump you in a hotel room?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. You said this place is only for those closest to you.”
“And you are the mother of my unborn child. It doesn’t get much closer than that.”
My heart falls a little as the words leave his lips. Of course I’m important. But only because I’m carrying his baby.
I hitch the bag back up on my arm again, squaring my shoulders and biting back the tears I can feel forming in my eyes. I don’t know why his words sting. They shouldn’t. I should be thrilled he’s so happy about this baby. I am thrilled.
But part of me was hoping for…more.
And that’s exactly what I’d promised myself I wouldn’t do.
“Where’s your room?” I ask, my voice cracking slightly as I look down the hall beyond him.
Brandon gives me a quizzical look, and I can tell he wants to ask me about the sudden shift in my mood. But I force out a yawn, and he drops it, turning and leading me back down the hall.
When we reach the room, my mouth falls open again at the size of the bed before me. I’ve heard of California kings. I’ve heard of Alaskan kings. But this bed is like those two beds got together and made one gigantic baby—who then ate a sack full of fertilizer and turned into the monstrosity sitting in the center of this room.
“That’s the biggest bed I’ve ever seen,” I say stupidly, causing Brandon to chuckle beside me.
“Bet it’s the softest one, too. Had that baby specially made. You know how they always advertise beds as like sleeping on a cloud? Well, it’s not just a load of bullshit with that thing. Seriously, the closest thing to heaven you can find. Trust me,” he adds with a wink.
I slide my shoes off, walking over to the bed, and rest a tentative hand on it. It does feel insanely squishy. Just before I’m about to turn and ask Brandon if he minds if I sit on it, he lifts me up and gently tosses me into the center.
I sink into the fluffy comforter, the soft fabric wrapping around and caressing every inch of my exposed skin. I moan at the unexpected sensation, snuggling down into the warmth as it molds around my body. “Oh my God, I’m never leaving.”
Brandon’s face appears over mine, his long body pressing against my own as he smiles down at me. “Fine with me, Tink. I rather like the idea of you in my bed.”
My feelings from the hallway return, my stomach churning at the thought that he only wants me here because of the baby. I move to roll away from him despite how much every single part of me screams in protest at the thought of leaving my newfound cocoon of comfort. But I can’t stay in here with him. Not with how confused I’m feeling.
“Do you have a guest room?” I ask as I try to slide across the great expanse to the other side of the bed.
I don’t get far though. Brandon’s hand closes around my arm, halting my progress and rolling me back toward him.
And damn this squishy bed. It gives with the slightest pressure, and I find myself back in his arms before I can do anything to stop it.
“What the hell are you talking about, Tink?”
I bite my lower lip, once again trying to stave off the tears building in my eyes. God, this is embarrassing.
Fucking hormones.
“Nothing. Just that I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I didn’t mean I actually expected to stay in here with you. Just that your bed is comfy; that’s all.”
“Make me uncomfortable?” he repeats, his brows furrowing in confusion.
I nod. “Yeah. I mean, you’re used to sleeping alone. I don’t want to crowd you out of your own bed.”
He looks at the giant space around us, and even I have to admit how silly the words sound.
“Right. Because this bed is quite possibly the teeniest thing on the face of the earth. There’s no way both of us could possibly fit in it.” His tone is sarcastic, but I can hear the hurt in his words.
And it confuses the hell out of me. Because I’m giving him an out here. A way to politely tell me my room is down the hall without him having to worry about hurting my feelings.
“Tink, tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”
“I just…oh, God, I don’t know, Brandon. I’m just so confused.”
“Confused by…” he prompts.
I sit up, moving to the side of the bed closest to us. This time, he doesn’t stop me. Instead, he sits up beside me, so we’re shoulder-to-shoulder.
I bury my face in my hands, too ashamed to even look at him with how ridiculous I’m acting. “It’s nothing, Brandon. I’m just being a stupid girl.”
Brandon’s hands circle my wrists, tenderly pulling my fingers from my face before placing his thumb under my chin and lifting my gaze to his. “Was it something I said?”
His tone is so sincere, his face so crestfallen, at my sudden lunacy that I can’t stop the words from tumbling past my lips.
“No. Yes. I don’t know. You said I was important to you because of the baby. And I guess I just thought…” I trail off, not really wanting to delve into exactly what I was thinking.
“You were hoping for more,” he finishes for me.
I quickly try to cover my tracks. “No. No, it’s not that at all. I know it’s too soon. And we’re still trying to figure things out. I’m not trying to force you into anything, Brandon. Like I said, it’s just me being a stupid girl.”
He shakes his head. “First off, stop calling yourself stupid. You’re one of the smartest women I’ve ever met, and it’s not just because you’ve read so many books,” he adds with a wink.
I chuckle softly at the return of his humor, but he steers the conversation back on track.
“And, second, you don’t have to keep telling me you’re not trying to force me to do something. I know that, Liv. Hell, I had to practically beg you to give me a chance here. In all the time we’ve spent together the past few weeks, I’ve never once felt pressured to do anything. And I’ve never once done something I didn’t want to do.”
A light flashes in his eyes as realization dawns on him.
“Including bringing you here,” he adds, brushing my hair back behind my ear. “I didn’t bring you here because I felt obligated to because of the baby, Liv. I brought you here because I wanted you here. Because I couldn’t bear the thought of you staying in a hotel in Seattle, alone. And I didn’t want to stay at a hotel with you because this is my home. Seattle is my home. This apartment is my home. And you, Liv, you are my home.
“I meant what I said. I only bring people here who are important to me. And you are important to me. Not only because of the life you’re carrying inside of you, but also because you’re you. I don’t know how many times I have to spell it out for you, Liv. I’m in this for the long haul. I want this baby. And I want you. For as long as you’ll have me.”
The tears that have been threatening to spill over for the last few minutes finally break free, and a loud sob breaks from my chest. “But, Brandon—”
He lifts a finger to my lips, softly pressing it against them to stop my words. “Stop it, Liv. Whatever you’re going to say, just stop. No more fighting this. No more protesting. I’ve been trying to give you space, trying to give you time to figure things out. But I can see it now. You want this just as much as I do. So, stop fighting it. Whatever obstacles stand in our way…well, we’ll figure those out as we come to them. For now, let’s just…try.”
The second his lips are closed, mine are on him. I press him back against the bed, climbing on top so that I’m straddling him. I want him to kiss away the tears, the frustration, and all the goddamn emotions flowing through me.
I just want to feel him. I want to feel this.
Brandon’s hands come up and tangle themselves in my hair, his strong fingers locking me in place against his mouth. When his tongue sweeps against my lips, I don’t hesitate. I open wide, letting him delve deep in
side, his skilled tongue causing my world to spin in a matter of seconds.
And, just like our first night together, I’m desperate for his touch. I pull at his shirt, needing to feel his hot skin pressed against mine, needing every single inch of his body to align with mine in that perfect way I know it can.
He smiles against my lips, his right hand freeing itself from my hair and moving to pause my frenzied movements.
“There’s no rush here, Tink. We’ve got all night.”
I whine in protest. “If you don’t touch me soon, I might spontaneously combust. That’ll put a halt to things real quick.”
He lets out a soft laugh, the warm rush of his breath washing over me and causing my skin to pebble. His fingers drop their hold on my hand, however, instead moving to the delicate skin just below my neck. His other hand circles my waist, and before I can catch my breath, he flips me so that I’m now beneath him, his heavy warmth pinning me in place. His face drops down to my neck, the tip of his nose running in slow, languid strokes against my sensitive skin.
My entire body ignites when he runs his tongue along the edge of my ear, his whispered words only fanning the flames pooling in my core.
“Where do you want me to touch you, Tink?”
I whimper, arching my back up off the bed in hopes of causing his fingers to drop down to my aching nipples.
He playfully bites my ear. “My needy girl. Do you want me to touch you here?”
The pad of his thumb brushes gently over the bud of my nipple, ripping a cry from deep within my chest. It’s both the sweetest sensation and the most horrific form of torture, especially as his hand leaves my tender flesh and moves to rub along his jaw.
“I can’t be sure. Did you like that, Tink?”
I roll myself against him, delirious for any source of friction that might relieve this ache. He pulls back, giving me the cockiest smirk I’ve ever seen.
He knows exactly what he’s doing to me.
And he’s enjoying every second of it.
“I want to hear you say it, Liv. I want you to tell me where you want me to touch you.”
I grab hold of his hand, bringing it back to my breast and closing his fingers around me. “Here, Brandon. I need you to touch me here.”
He gladly complies, his right hand kneading my left breast as his left hand yanks down my top, exposing the other. His mouth drops down to that breast, his lips pulling my nipple between his teeth as he gives it a soft tug.
The ache between my thighs explodes, and I have to scissor my legs together to try to alleviate some of the pressure. Just when I feel like I’m about to come from that sensation alone, Brandon pulls back, his fingers trailing down to the waistband of my jeans.
“Where else do you want me to touch you, Tink?”
I let out a shaky breath. “Ev-everywhere.”
He smiles down at me. “Good answer.”
He makes quick work of the button on my jeans, his hand dipping down below my panties and slipping between my slick folds before I even realize he’s got them undone. The second his finger comes in contact with my tender bud, my hips buck up off the bed, a jolt of electricity firing through my entire body.
“So fucking responsive. I love that you’re so ready for me.”
“Brandon, p-please.”
“Please what, love? Tell me what you want.”
“P-please make me come.”
A sexy growl escapes his lips as he drops his mouth back down to my exposed breast, his deft fingers pushing inside my entrance, his callous thumb moving against my clit in small, rapid circles.
It’s too much, too fast, too fucking intense. I can’t take it. There’s no way in hell I’m going to survive the heat coursing through every single one of my veins.
And, just when I’m convinced I’m going to burst into flames, he crooks a finger inside me, hitting a spot I didn’t even know existed, and my entire world falls apart.
The orgasm crashes through me, my body convulsing around his fingers as I ride the intense wave. It seems to last forever and not long enough, all at the same time. And, when I finally feel like I’m starting to come down, he hooks that finger one more time, and it all starts again.
When my body finally rejoins the earth, I can’t help the stupid smile that spreads out across my face.
I’m pretty sure that’s the first time I’ve ever had two orgasms back-to-back like that. In fact, the only time I’ve ever had more than one was the first time with Brandon. Until then, I’d thought the mythical multiple orgasms I always read about were exactly that—a myth. And, now, here I am, having a second one before the first one was even fully finished.
Brandon crawls back up my body, pulling my back against his front, burying his face in my hair. I can feel his erection pressing into my ass, and I’m instantly ready for round two.
Reaching back, I palm his cock, giving it a firm squeeze. He laughs into my hair but reaches down and grabs my hand, taking it in his and moving it back to my front.
“But what about—”
“Shh. Let’s get some sleep. Tonight is about showing you just how special you are to me. I’ve done that. And, now, I fully intend on cuddling with you all night.”
I smirk, turning my head so that I can look at him. “You don’t strike me as a cuddler.”
He shrugs. “Things change.”
Boy, do they ever.
“Okay, I officially love baseball!” I shout to Lexi over the din of the crowd surrounding us.
Lexi grins back at me, her eyes flying around the stadium at the thousands of fans gathered to watch Brandon, Ian, and the rest of the Rampage as they take on the Phoenix Rattlers.
When we first arrived, Lexi was greeted by several of our seat neighbors, and with how she beamed and chatted them up, I’m willing to bet this is a common occurrence for her.
I’ve never been one for watching sports. Playing them either really, considering I’ve always had two left feet and that I couldn’t sprint a hundred yards even if a bear were chasing me. But at least I understand the concept. Exercise, socialization, team-building, and all that jazz.
But to sit and watch somebody else strap on a shit-ton of gear and then bake in the hot sun while they attempt to score all the points?
Count me out.
But that was before I walked in here, before I watched as a gazillion people got to their feet and cheered as the Rampage took the field. And it was before I watched as Brandon stepped up to the plate the first time, thousands of women screaming his name, before he turned and looked directly at me. He lifted his bat in my direction, winking at me before dropping it and banging it against his cleats—a move he does every time he gets up to bat, according to Lexi.
A surge of pride swelled in my chest as I watched him, his eyes locked fully on mine instead of the dozens of women in front of me. And, when each of those women shrieked and insisted his wink was for them, I wasn’t able to hide the smile that spread across my lips, knowing it was meant solely for me.
Now, tied in the bottom of the ninth with two outs and one runner on base, I can fully understand the adrenaline rush people get when watching this game. Needing to do something with my hands, I take a bite of my hot dog, quickly chase it with a bite of my pickle, and wash it all down with a large gulp of my piña colada–flavored slushy. What can I say? The baseball field tends well to my weird pregnancy cravings. I chew hurriedly; my entire body is on edge as I wait for Brandon to approach the plate, knowing that the next few minutes will make or break this game.
It’s all down to him.
And, when he smashes it out of the park and the crowd erupts around me, I don’t even hear it. Because all I see is Brandon as he turns and runs a few paces backward, grinning at me like I just won this game for him.
And it’s then I realize…
He didn’t just knock that ball out of the park.
He also took my heart with it.
Chapter 18
Brandon
I hold the door open for Liv, ushering her inside the restaurant ahead of me. I do this to get her out of the chilly night air, the breeze coming off the Puget Sound causing the hair on my arms to stand on end.
I don’t do it so that I can get another look at her ass in that tight black dress.
Nope. Not at all.
And my eyes definitely aren’t fixed there when I nearly run into the back of her, her movement stopped by the hostess asking us if we have a reservation.
I bring myself up short, placing my hands on Liv’s shoulders in an attempt to steady myself. Once I’m confident I’m not going to send both of us ass over tits into the hostess stand, I lift my gaze to the woman’s and slap on my signature smile.
“I’m sorry, we don’t. But I was hoping you might be able to squeeze us in.”
The woman practically swallows her tongue. “Are you—are you Brandon Jeffers?”
I lift my hand to my dark hair, running it through my overgrown locks. “Guilty as charged. Now, do you think you might have room for me and my lovely date here? Perhaps somewhere near the back?”
The hostess all but falls over herself as she tells me she’ll be right back to seat us. I should feel bad for abusing my fame this way, but come on. What good is being one of the best ball players in the league if you can’t use it to your advantage every once in a while?
Liv playfully swats at me before giving me a roll of her eyes. “You’re such a prat. That poor girl is probably in the back, kicking some humble, unsuspecting victims out of their seats just because you couldn’t call and make a reservation.”
I chuckle. “Brandon Jeffers doesn’t need reservations, Tink. If Brandon Jeffers graces you with his presence, you make room.”
“And, if Brandon Jeffers doesn’t stop referring to himself in the third person, Liv Hunter is going to puke all over his billion-dollar shoes.”
My head falls back as I roar out a laugh. I love that this woman calls me on my bullshit. Most other women would be hanging on my every word, desperate not to say the wrong thing, for fear of pissing me off and therefore missing out on their chance.