by Joss Wood
* * *
Carrick felt the burn of whiskey as it slid down his throat, thinking that he couldn’t possibly have interpreted Sadie’s words correctly. It wasn’t possible. She couldn’t be pregnant. He’d used condoms that night, he was sure of it.
Using condoms was as much second nature to him as brushing his teeth. Or shaving. He rubbed his jaw and felt his two-day stubble. Okay, maybe shaving wasn’t a good analogy since that was something he occasionally neglected.
He never, ever neglected his teeth. Or failed to protect himself or his partner.
“How?” he asked, hearing the croak in his voice.
Sadie sank back down to the chair and lifted her shoulders. At least she wasn’t pretending to misunderstand him. “The condom could’ve slipped or fallen off or torn. It might’ve been faulty.”
Surely he would’ve noticed a broken condom? Then again, he’d been so caught up in the smell and taste and wonder of Sadie that a nuclear bomb could’ve dropped next door and he might not have noticed.
Honestly? The chances of him noticing a split or leaking condom hovered around zero.
Carrick racked his brain and tried to recall any housekeeping he’d done that night he’d loved her so thoroughly and drew a blank. Sadie’s soft skin, her smell, her moans... Those he remembered in Technicolor. Getting rid of condoms? Not so much.
He opened his mouth to speak and immediately snapped it closed again. What was there to say? Sorry? He could express regret, but would it change a damn thing? No, it wouldn’t.
And was he really sorry?
He was surprised, shocked. His world had been kicked off its axis, but was he sorry? He wasn’t sure that he was.
He’d always wanted a kid and when he said goodbye to his marriage, he’d said goodbye to that dream, too. He believed kids should be raised within a committed relationship and since he’d had no intention of jumping into that alligator-infested swamp again, he resigned himself to a child-free life.
But Sadie was pregnant, the kid was his and he had another shot at being a father, something he’d believed was beyond his grasp.
He wasn’t delighted, but he wasn’t about to chew his wrists off, either.
Sadie had asked what role he wanted to play in his child’s life—he could see from her expression she was expecting him to bail—but there was one thing he was sure of...
He fully intended to be this child’s father, in every way that counted. From child support to midnight feedings, to changing diapers and bath time and bedtime reading, he intended to be there every step of the way. How they were going to make that work when they were living in two separate houses, in two separate countries, was something they still had to discuss.
But he’d figure it out; he had nine months—eight?—before that became an issue.
He had plenty of time.
Sadie scooted to the edge of her seat, looking like she’d rather be anywhere but here. “Look, you obviously need time for this to sink in so I think I should go.”
Carrick stood up and walked back to the array of drinks across the room. He poured another whiskey and wished he could offer her one since she looked dead on her feet. Judging by her raccoon eyes, it was obvious that she’d had minimal sleep this past week. She looked pale and played out and she wasn’t going anywhere.
Not just yet.
“Stay, Sadie, we have things to discuss.”
“Except that you aren’t saying anything,” Sadie pointed out as she stood up. “I’m trying to give you some time to make sense of this craziness, Carrick.”
Carrick saw her sway on her feet and he bounded over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders, pushing her down onto the comfortable cushions. Ignoring her protests, he pulled off her flat-soled boots and dropped them onto the carpet. Yanking a cashmere blanket from the arm of the leather sofa, he draped it over her knees and looked at the fireplace. “I can make a fire if you are cold.”
Sadie flung the blanket off her knees, her expression mutinous. “Carrick! I’m fine, for crying out loud.”
He didn’t believe her since she looked a degree warmer than a corpse. “Will you just wait there, for five minutes or so?”
“Where are you going?”
Pregnancy hadn’t robbed her of her sassy personality. Good to know. “I’m just going to make you a cup of hot chocolate. I figure if you can’t have alcohol, then chocolate is the next best thing.”
Sadie released a huff and he saw the frustration in those hundred shades of blue. “Carrick, I don’t need a fire, or a blanket or hot chocolate. I need you to sit down and talk to me about the baby I’m carrying.”
Carrick dug his toes into the antique Persian beneath his feet. “I need five minutes, Sadie, alone. I also need to do something, so I’m going to make you hot chocolate. You might not want it, but I need to make it because I need a little space. When I get back, I’ll try and form a rational response.”
Carrick headed for the door and her soft question nearly dropped him to his knees. “Are you mad? At me?”
He turned to see her looking down at her hands, her shoulders shaking. He fought the urge to rush to her side, to pull her into his arms and tell her that everything would be fine. But he couldn’t because who knew what else life had in store for them?
But it was important that she understand what he was about to say next. He walked back to her, dropped to his haunches in front of her and placed his hands on her knees.
“Sadie, I’m not blaming you. I’m not even blaming myself because it would be futile. We are adults. We took precautions. Sure, everyone says that condoms are effective, but we are proof they are not. The only foolproof method of birth control is abstinence and abstinence sucks. So no, I’m not mad at you. Surprised, shocked, weirded out, sure, but mad? No.”
Carrick held her gaze and watched as tension seeped from her as air would exit a leaky balloon. Her shoulders dropped below her ears, her fists uncurled and her lips softened. She looked relieved, but still completely wiped out.
He would bet the artwork in this house that if she curled up in that chair, if she tucked a pillow behind her head, she would be asleep in ten minutes, maybe less. The thing was, he didn’t want her to fall asleep. He wanted her naked and writhing, moaning his name as he slid inside her.
She’d just handed him news big enough to tilt his world off his axis and all he wanted to do was make love to her? Carrick scrubbed his face with his hands.
What the hell, dude?
“I’ll be back in a few. Relax,” Carrick told her as he stood up, wincing at the inanity. “Try to relax,” he corrected himself, before tapping the door frame and heading for the kitchen.
He knew that in the cupboard above the fridge was an unopened bottle of Jack and he intended to crack that bottle open and take a belt or four.
It was that type of night.
* * *
Sadie woke up lying on Carrick, chest to chest, her stomach dented by a very long, very hard, erection, her face in his neck. His hand was between her loose jeans and her panties, holding most of her right butt cheek, and his other hand was under her shirt, his fingers under her bra strap between her shoulder blades. Murphy had, sometime during the night, been desperate to find some skin.
And really, since his touch felt like sunshine, Sadie had no objections.
Sadie yawned as she remembered him going to the kitchen, something about him making hot chocolate she didn’t want. She had a vague recollection of snuggling down into that enormously comfortable chair, then the memory of strong arms lifting her up to rest against his wide chest.
He’d lowered her to the sofa and followed her down and she’d thought that she should object. Instead of pulling away, she’d simply curled into him; his warmth was temptation personified and his smell addictive.
And she’d dropped into sleep.
Las
t night she’d been too tired to pull away, to put some distance between them, but in the cold light of morning, she knew that being nose to nose, groin to groin, plastered against Carrick Murphy was not a smart idea. Before she did anything stupid—like kiss him—she needed to disentangle herself, preferably with grace and ease.
Or simply disentangle herself.
Carrick, as if sensing she was ready to bolt, pulled her closer. “You feel so amazing, so soft. And, God, your smell.”
Sadie tensed, wondering what he meant. Okay, time to get up and sort herself out. Sadie moved her hands to push against him, but his hand on her butt pushed her into his erection, and his hand on her back mashed her breasts against his chest. “Where are you going?” Carrick mumbled.
“Getting off you.” Surely her actions were self-explanatory?
“Why?”
Because if I don’t, I might just start ripping off your clothes.
And that would add gas to the already smoldering dumpster fire they were currently feeding.
“Not ready to get up and certainly not ready to face the day.”
Sadie pulled her head back to look at Carrick. His eyelashes brushed his skin, surprisingly long. His beard was thicker than she’d ever seen it and she wanted to run her fingers through his stubble while she kissed those sexy lips.
“We need to get to work, Murphy,” Sadie whispered, a small part of her—okay, all of her—hoping he would disagree with her and either urge her to go back to sleep or, even better, to get naked.
Bad Sadie.
“I just want to lie here and touch you, Sadie.” Carrick opened one eye and lifted his wrist to squint at his watch. “It’s barely even six, far too early to consider moving.”
“Then I should go, let you get some decent sleep.”
“What makes you think I didn’t sleep?” Carrick asked, his fingers drawing patterns on the skin of her butt.
She’d spent the night lying on top of him; he couldn’t have been comfortable.
“You weigh next to nothing and I love having you in my arms.” He lifted his hips and pushed his erection into her. “Can’t you tell?”
“I’d be impressed if it wasn’t something all men wake up with daily,” Sadie replied, telling herself not to shift her hips to maximize her pleasure. “And may I point out that’s what got us into trouble in the first place?”
Despite how amazing she felt, and how tempted she was, she couldn’t forget that there was only one reason why she was here. Through their growing baby, she was now tethered to this man for the next eighteen to forever years.
“Best night of my life,” Carrick murmured, dropping a kiss into her hair. Carrick shifted her so his shaft was aligned with her mound and Sadie released a low groan. She couldn’t help it; he felt so damn good. She pressed down, closed her eyes and allowed pleasure to slide through her.
Her desire was tinged with relief, with a lot of “thank God, that went better than I thought.” She’d expected fireworks last night, smashed glasses, a whole bunch of yelling, but Carrick’s response to becoming a father had been measured, even—dare she say it?—thoughtful.
She wasn’t about to completely reverse her opinion that he was a bad boy, but maybe he wasn’t quite as bad as she’d painted him to be. And while it didn’t mean anything, couldn’t mean anything, she felt so damn good lying in his arms.
Then she made the mistake of opening her eyes, lifting them to look at Carrick. Light green clashed with blue and they stared at each other for a moment and later, Sadie couldn’t remember who made the first move. Was it him, was it her? Either way, their mouths connected in a flurry of teeth and lips and tongue. He tasted like sex and sleep, a heady combination that melted her thought processes. All she knew for sure was that she wanted to get naked as soon as possible.
At least she couldn’t get pregnant this time. The thought hit her with all the power of a missile strike. She was pregnant. They hadn’t discussed the future, she was having a baby with this man and they had a million decisions to make.
Sex should be way down on their priority list.
She should be sensible, responsible. This was complete craziness.
“Carrick...” Sadie whispered his name against his lips, trying to ignore his hand kneading her butt.
“Mmm?”
“Is this a good idea?”
“Probably not,” Carrick admitted, his voice rough with need. “But let’s do it anyway. In an hour or two we can return to real life, to reality, but for now, let’s have this.”
Sadie hesitated and Carrick cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs stroking her cheekbones. “Let’s take this time, and just be. Let’s enjoy each other and what we do to and for each other. The future can wait. Let’s take this time before the day starts, before the rest of our lives change irrevocably and we drive each other crazy. It’s just you and me, nobody else, nothing else matters.”
How could she resist his low-pitched, rumbly voice, his sexy words? What woman in the world could? She thought she should remind him that this wasn’t going to become a habit, that sleeping together this morning would be another onetime thing, but talking was for later...
Right now all she wanted to do was feel.
Sadie lowered her mouth to his, and Carrick’s hand moved from her face to the back of her head, keeping her at the angle he preferred. His tongue swept inside her mouth. She felt him shudder, his erection hardening against her stomach. The first rays of dawn lightened the room and shadows danced across his skin as the day unfurled. Carrick made her feel like that, like she was new and precious and exciting, full of possibilities.
Sadie sat up and peeled herself off Carrick, sliding off him to look down at him. She kneeled next to the sofa and ran her hand over his chest, down the shaft tenting his pants. Carrick shuddered and his eyes took on a sheen of gold, his low murmurs of approval telling her how much he enjoyed her touch. The previous time they’d made love, Carrick had been in the driver’s seat and this time, this last time, she wanted control.
Sadie pushed her hands up and under Carrick’s shirt and pulled it up his chest, revealing a light dusting of hair, his ripped stomach and his muscled arms. Carrick pulled the shirt up and over his head, and Sadie placed her lips on his biceps, needing to feel the play of those big muscles under her lips. She inhaled his musky, soap-and-man-and-sex smell and felt that rush of warmth hitting her panties.
Yeah, she wanted him...so much it actually hurt.
“Come up here and kiss me,” Carrick told her, looking at her through half-closed eyelids. He pushed his fingers into her hair, playing with her curls.
“Not yet,” Sadie softly replied, placing her hand on his chest and feeling his heartbeat under her hand. So strong, so steady, so intensely male. She watched, fascinated, as his small nipple contracted and she impulsively put her mouth to that bud and was surprised at the low groan her touch elicited. Emboldened, she moved her mouth across his chest, touching her tongue to his warm skin. On her knees now, she caressed his sides and ran the back of her knuckles over his stomach before dipping her tongue into his sunken belly button.
“You’re killing me here, Sades.”
But in a good way. Sadie smiled against his skin and traced the ripples of his washboard stomach with her tongue.
“I need to touch you, Sadie.”
“Not done, Murphy.” Sadie placed her hand on his erection, sliding her fingers up his shaft, feeling the heat beneath the soft fabric of his jeans. She flipped open the buttons on his fly. Carrick placed his thumbs in the band of his jeans and lifted his hips, pushing them down. When they landed in a heap on the floor next to her knees, she stared down at him, entranced by his masculine beauty. She traced the raised veins with one finger, before spreading the small bead of moisture over its head.
She was soaking wet from just looking at him. She could slide her leg
over him and he’d be inside her with no trouble at all, but if this was their last time—and it had to be—then she wanted to live out a little fantasy...
Or, judging by the size, a big fantasy.
She’d never done this before; she’d never wanted to with Dennis—and what did that say about her marriage?—but how hard could it be? Sadie placed her lips on his shaft and inhaled his sexy scent. Placing her lips on him, she nibbled her way up to his head before resting the tip on her closed mouth.
“Dying here, Sadie. Seriously,” Carrick muttered, lifting his hips to encourage her to open her mouth.
Sadie turned her head to look at him, pulling her hair back behind her ear to see him clearly. “Do you want me to continue, Carrick?”
“More than I want my heart to keep beating,” he replied, his voice vibrating with need.
She liked the note of desperation she heard in his voice, the way his erratic breathing filled the room. For once the mighty Murphy wasn’t in control—she was, and she felt powerful, feminine, alluring. Sexy, dammit.
And in giving, she was ramping up her own pleasure; she’d never been more turned on in her life. Sadie opened her mouth and allowed his erection to slide onto her tongue, her lips closing around him. She felt Carrick tense, and his hand in her hair tightened.
“Feels so good, Sadie. God, please don’t stop.”
Sadie took him deeper and she swirled her tongue around his tip and Carrick released a low stream of curses. Using his core muscles to sit up, he gently pulled her head back. “Too much,” he muttered.
“Can’t handle me, Murphy?” Sadie teased him.
“Damn straight. Not when you do that.” Carrick’s words were rough with suppressed need and emotion. He swung his feet off the couch, pulled her to stand between his knees and quickly divested her of her clothing. When she was naked in front of him, he placed his forehead between her breasts and gripped her waist with his hands. “Want you so much, Sadie.”
She was here, she was naked, why was he waiting? Sadie felt him kiss her skin, his hands moving up to cover her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples in a light but make-me-crazy touch. “I need you inside me, Carrick, filling me, stretching me, making me whole.”