by Quinn, Taryn
“Fucking killing me,” he rasped, his thumb determinedly circling my clit. Over and over, in time with the strokes of his cock. “Come on me.”
He didn’t have to ask. I’d already been on the verge, but his voice, his fingers, and his cock were a magical combination. I couldn’t stop myself. Couldn’t stave off the impending crash a second longer.
I moaned, and he rose to take my mouth, swallowing my cries as I tumbled into that final drop and went soaring. Literally in this case. I fell forward against his chest, losing my balance entirely, my body quivering.
A sharp smack registered in my ear before the brief pain blossomed on my ass cheek, and even that made me more crazed as I rode his dick. I couldn’t stop the pulse of my hips or the frantic clench of my inner muscles. It seemed endless, only ceasing for a bright, manic second as he groaned in my ear and warm wetness spurted deep inside. I wasn’t sure if I really felt it or if I was guided by his moans, but the mere suggestion that I could feel him coming inside me pushed me into yet another climax. I whimpered and dug my nails into his shoulders, falling into a dark, vast space where I didn’t have to think or worry.
Just existing, just basking, was enough.
When I came back to myself, still sprawled in a sticky, sweaty heap on top of him, I brushed a kiss over his throat. The silk tie was still wrapped around one of my wrists. “Wanna tie you up next.”
Something rumbled through his chest—either a laugh or a growl, I wasn’t sure. “Can’t spank you without the use of my hands.”
“Is that what you did?” I kissed him again, more of a sleepy lick this time. That smell of his. Like being in a forest with that extra layer of spice. “Felt good. Made me come harder.”
As soon as I said the word come, I flushed. Luckily, it was dark, so he couldn’t see. But I buried my face between his neck and shoulder and gave myself away.
Now he was laughing, no doubt about it. “Where have you been all my life?”
The question had me lifting my head. “I was right in front of you all along.”
“You were.” He traced his thumb over my lip and I smelled myself on him. That made me flush more. And it also made me sneak my tongue out for a lick. “I was fucking blind.”
“And you have contacts. Time for a new prescription?”
“Wise ass.” He flicked my nose and reached down to undo the twisted tie around my wrist, gently rubbing away the last of the marks. “Okay?”
“Better than.” I stretched my arms, working out the kinks. Then I reached back to rub my still slightly sore bottom. “You spanked me?”
“Mmm-hmm. You kept pushing your ass against my hand for more. Coming the whole time. Christ, you were hot.”
I sucked in a shuddery breath. “I think I may be a little kinky. Who knew?”
He didn’t laugh as he smoothed my hair away from my face. “Or a lot. Early days yet.”
“Yeah. I’m woefully undersexed still.” I let out a low moan as I detangled our bodies and rolled over onto my back, splaying my arms wide. “I’m not sure the bath had time to do much, but the rest? Definitely helped with some of the knots. Whoa.”
He leaned over to brush a kiss over my belly. I went still, wondering if his placement was intentional.
All too soon, he rolled off the bed. “Wait here.”
“Like I can move. Don’t forget to kill the candles,” I called, and he waved a hand over his head in acknowledgement.
Which I barely saw, because hi there, glorious naked ass. Perfect.
I was still lying there propped on my elbows, trying to summon the strength to go clean up, when he returned. He sat beside me on the bed and set a long black box on my stomach.
For a moment, I let myself pretend the box was smaller. More compact.
Romantic fool surfaces once again, likely stirred by stupendous sex.
“What’s this?” My pulse hammered in my ears. “Uh-oh. Valentine’s Day. I only got you a sweater. And I forgot to bring it.”
“A sweater?” He sounded about as pleased as if I’d told him I’d gotten him a tea set.
“Gray Irish wool.” I sniffed. “Not a department store special, Mr. Hoity-Toity.”
“I’m sure it’s lovely.” He chuckled and nudged the underside of my breast with the box. “Open it.”
I obliged him, swallowing hard as I tilted the box and the rose gold bow necklace shimmered in the candlelight. At least I was pretty sure it was rose gold. Whatever the metal, the necklace was simple and delicate and so pretty that my throat ached.
“Oliver,” I whispered. “You really bought this for me?”
Way to sound super lame.
I was the exact opposite of his usual sophisticated girlfriends. Forget that. I could barely figure out how to be a girlfriend period. I was still stuck in the phase of life where teenage boys bought their first loves a rose for Valentine’s Day. Not gorgeous bling.
“My other girlfriend was on vacation, so I figured I might as well give it to you.” He laughed as I poked his side.
My other girlfriend.
God. I should not be getting warm all over, head-to-toe, from his usage of that word. But it was so much different when I thought of myself as his girlfriend than when he said it.
I was a sap. Probably due to hormones. It wasn’t my fault. Non-pregnant Sage was entirely levelheaded.
“It’s beautiful.” I angled the box to get another look in the low light, and he leaned across me to turn on the bedside light. Automatically, I started to drag the sheet over me, until the look he gave me stilled my hand.
“Leave it. You’re gorgeous.”
“I’ve been hitting the chocolate and salt hard…” I trailed off and took a breath, focusing instead on the lovely necklace he’d given me. My insecurities were improving, but they had the worst habit of resurfacing at the most inconvenient times.
I traced a fingertip over the small bow at the center of the chain, already envisioning it around my neck. “Did I mention this is beautiful? Thank you.”
“It reminded me of you. Lovely and strong beneath the fragility on the surface.”
“Is that how you see me?”
“Yes. Along with smart and funny and resourceful. Sometimes a pain in the ass. Always an amazing lover.”
By the end, I was grinning. I couldn’t argue with the pain-in-the-ass part. It was sterling truth.
“Hold up your hair.”
I lifted it and he fastened the necklace around my neck, his fingers shifting it around until the bow centered at the base of my throat. I reached up to touch it and grabbed his fingers too, holding them in place over the necklace as I found his mouth with my own.
“Thank you. I love it,” I murmured between kisses.
“It suits you, just as I knew it would.” He gave my fingers a squeeze as he eased back and glanced at the clock beside the bed. “We should sleep.”
“Do I look that exhausted?”
“Sleeping for two now,” he said lightly, rolling off the bed and padding across the floor to the bathroom. A minute later, the door clicked shut.
I yawned and curled up against the pillows, drawing the sheet and blanket over me. Maybe I’d be able to rest now. It had been an exhausting week, and my back-to-back orgasms were definitely taking their toll.
My fingers fumbled for the necklace and I closed my eyes, smiling at the water turning on in the bathroom. Those were the normal, happy sounds of living with someone. I wanted that life. Maybe even with him.
I snuggled deeper into the pillows. Maybe.
The next sound I heard was the buzz of my cell phone. I reached for it on the nightstand, shifting away from Oliver’s heavy arm draped over my waist, and blearily opened my eyes. It was still dark and I struggled to make out the message from my mom.
Swinging into town, baby girl. We’re taking the scenic route, so you have some time. We know you’re not good with mornings. Just put on the coffeepot when you wake up.
Uh-oh. They might be on the wa
y to my place, but I obviously was not there. I typed out a response without thinking.
I’m not home. Can you swing by the Hamilton cabin instead?
It seemed as if texting bubbles appeared on the screen forever without a message coming through. I rubbed my eyes. Hmm, maybe I should’ve told them why. Or not.
Definitely not. They could figure it out on their own, right?
Then again, they might not know the address. The cabin had been rarely used until recently, and I wouldn’t be surprised if lots of people in town didn’t realize it was owned by the Hamilton family. Just in case, I texted the address. My mom replied a moment later.
When you say Hamilton, you mean…
Oliver? Remember him?
This pause was even longer than the last one. I huffed out a breath and wiggled to try to calm my insistent bladder. Dammit, I’d been having a really good dream about Oliver and hot chocolate sauce. Hopefully, I could slip right back into it when this version of Chinese water torture ended.
I thought u hated him? U only ever mentioned him as Ally’s pain-in-the-ass BIL.
I almost snorted aloud. Well, he’s still a pain, but he’s a stud in the sack.
She probably wouldn’t have been amused if I answered that. I would’ve been though. As it was, I was giggling under my breath at the thought.
It wasn’t good that she’d remembered my previous feelings about him. Especially once I informed her he’d knocked me up. Totally on accident, but still.
We’ve gotten to know each other better.
Another snort. There was an understatement.
“Are you playing a game on your phone? Go to sleep, crazy woman.” Oliver pushed at my shoulder and I kicked his shin.
“I wish. Parental units. Go back to sleep.”
He obeyed stupidly fast. Damn man. Except last night, it took me forever to sleep.
It seems so. Ok, we’ll head to the cabin instead. See you in a few hours.
K. Cya then.
Another text came through.
Please make sure u r fully dressed.
I rolled my eyes. Lord, this was going to be a fun day.
Dumping my phone on the nightstand, I padded across the hall to the bathroom. I did what I needed to and hurried back to bed.
C’mon, hot chocolate sauce dream, don’t fail me now.
I must’ve fallen asleep fairly easily for a second time in a row, because the next time I stirred, the scent of coffee and bacon filled the air. Bacon, for God’s sake. If anything could make me leap out of bed, that was it.
The only problem with that scenario was that I leaped up, grabbed the first thing I saw that would work as clothing—one of Oliver’s ubiquitous white button-down shirts—and shrugged it on, then padded downstairs to the kitchen. My nose so consumed me that I forgot the impending guests.
Except whoops, impending had passed. My parents were now here, and they were sitting at Oliver’s quaint circular kitchen table, forking up bacon and eggs and staring at my bare legs.
And bare hoohaa. Dear God.
I yanked at Oliver’s shirt, thanking my lucky stars that he was tall and I was short. He cast me a sidelong glance as he slid more bacon onto a platter. “Morning, princess. Sleep well?”
Seventeen
A grunt was about all I could manage in his direction. Some warning that they’d arrived might’ve been nice. But that was Oliver. He just handled things, which was sometimes nice and sometimes worthy of a smack.
I smiled weakly at my parents. My mom was already rising from her chair, a big smile wreathing her face. Maybe she hadn’t noticed my lack of pants?
Then I glanced at my dad. His dark brows were beetled together and he was shaking his head.
That was definitely a no for his side.
“Hi Mom. Hi Dad. How was your trip in?” Under normal circumstances, I would’ve gone over to greet them, but my lack of underwear was skeeving me out.
My mom rushed toward me and wrapped me in a giant hug. I supposed the lack-of-panties thing didn’t bother her as much, considering where I’d come from. “Hi honey. Oh, how we’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too. So much. It’s so good to have you here.” I hugged my mom longer than I usually did, because it gave me an opportunity to keep my eyes closed and pray for this whole scene to vanish. “So, tell me how your trip was. Did you meet up with any rough weather on the way in from Sedona?”
“Oh, some rain here and there, a little snow.” My mom moved back and waved a hand. “Nothing we couldn’t handle.”
“A little snow? There was two feet in Ohio.” My dad stood and came over to join us, giving me a hug as well. His was much shorter, and he had a message to relay in an undertone near my ear before he stepped back. “You have some ’splaining to do, Lucy.”
“That’s true, but we’re hardy New Yorkers. To us, wasn’t barely more than a dusting.” My mom smiled and glanced swiftly at Oliver’s still turned back before raising her brows at me. Her version of my dad’s sentiments.
If I was going to get through this day, I needed bacon. Stat.
“Hungry?” Oliver asked mildly as I picked up three slices of bacon. They singed my fingers and dripped grease on Oliver’s pristine shirt, but whatever. That was what the dry cleaner was for and this was probably all his fault.
Okay, it wasn’t, but I was hungry and embarrassed and…bacon.
“Oh my God, this is good,” I said between mouthfuls.
My mom exchanged a glance with my father. “It is good, honey, but you seem especially ravenous.”
“I am.” My tone was one hundred percent cheerful.
They didn’t know about the baby. They couldn’t know, because I hadn’t told them yet and Oliver would not go there. He wouldn’t.
Would he?
“Juice.” He turned to pour a glass from the pitcher on the table and handed it to me, which I drank as fast as I’d consumed my bacon.
Stress drinking was a thing now too, apparently. At least I’d never developed much of a taste for alcohol. Orange juice was much less dangerous, especially in my condition.
“Have a seat, sweet pea.” My mom pulled out a chair, but I was too busy grabbing a plate and stacking it with bacon and eggs.
I leaned closer to Oliver. “I thought you had no food but aphrodisiacs.” Yeah, I could’ve lowered my voice for that comment, but where would be the fun in that?
It would also require my brain engaging, and that had not yet occurred this morning.
Oliver cleared his throat. “I had Seth’s nanny pick up a few things on her way over last evening. She’s highly efficient.”
“Oh. Okay, good. You’re a really good cook. These bacon and eggs are incredible.” I gave him a thumbs-up and turned back to the table with all the exuberance of a woman about to be led off in shackles.
It wasn’t that I wasn’t happy to see my parents. On the contrary, I’d missed them desperately. But this situation was beyond awkward. Normally, someone got to break the news they were dating someone to their parents when they had pants on. And here I was, so hungry I’d just filled my plate and was about to sit down without remembering I was inconveniently pantsless.
I set down my plate and gave the bacon one last longing glance before I stole one for the road. Oh man, so good. “Be right back,” I said. “Talk amongst yourselves.”
After hurrying back upstairs, I went into the bathroom and screeched at my sex hair. Like seriously, if there was a picture beside the phrase in the dictionary, this would be it. And I had scruff burn all over my chin and half my neck. Yeah, because that wasn’t obvious.
Here I’d thought my bare ass—and personal area—was the worst of it. Nope. I might as well have taken out a billboard that said I just got fucked, yo!
Rather than dwell, I took care of business and dressed in my clothes from the day before. Luckily, I’d worn a turtleneck sweater that hid some of the scruff burn. The chain for my new necklace was long enough for me to be able to show
it off. I tamed my hair, pinched my cheeks, and walked into the kitchen with a smile, prepared to make quick work of my breakfast. I’d earned it.
I strolled in just in time to hear the words “wedding” and “don’t have long to choose a venue.”
“Who’s getting married?” I snatched another piece of bacon, biting it just as my mother answered.
“Why, you are. Aren’t you?”
That was when I started to choke.
Handily, there was a sip or two left in my glass of juice. When I drained them, Oliver was considerately there to pour some more.
“Says who?” I sputtered, throwing a glance at him before he returned to the stove. He seemed to be avoiding actually sitting down, and now I knew why.
Good God, what had he said to them while I was blissfully asleep?
My dad folded and refolded the newspaper he’d had his face hidden behind for most of the time since I’d originally come into the kitchen. “We wondered why you wouldn’t contact us to tell us you were planning on getting married, but Oliver reminded me we’d been out of touch a lot since leaving town.”
“Oh, did he now?” I shot mental daggers at his back, my mind whirling. What the hell was he thinking? Why would he lie to them that we were getting married? Unless…unless…
“Did he tell you about the baby? Is that what this is all about?”
Silence reigned, making me think that nope, that was the wrong guess.
Perhaps he’d taken a proactive position, wanting to assure them we would get married before I told them about the kid on the way? But that was also insane, considering we hadn’t discussed marriage. We had not even discussed actual commitment. The word girlfriend had been tossed about—mostly in my own head—but that was not enough to marriage make.
“Baby?” My mother leaped up from the table and jogged around it to physically grab my flat—well, mostly flat-ish, at least pre-bacon gorging—stomach. “You have a baby in there? His baby?”