Home for the Baby's Sake

by Christine Rimmer

  She laughed, a husky, hungry sound. Because she was hungry. For him. For all the magic she would finally get to share with him. “I’m so glad. Because I’m definitely having sex tonight, one way or another. It would be downright cruel of you to make me have it without you.”

  He sank his teeth into the vulnerable curve of her neck—just enough to make her gasp in delight at the sharp sensation. Then he kissed the spot he’d bitten. “I’m not sure what this is, what we have together, you and me—but I do know I like it very much.”

  She stretched her head back, giving him better access. “You like it?”

  “I do, yes.”

  “And that’s why you keep demanding that I marry you?”

  He made a low sound, like a growl, against her throat. “Exactly. Quit putting me off. Say yes and let’s get married.”

  “What is this, a business deal? We’ll shake hands and you’ll whip out the contract? I’ll sign on the dotted line, after which we’ll seal the deal with a hot night of great sex?”

  “Nothing wrong with an honest transaction, between equals.”

  “Roman, you’re such a romantic.” Not.

  “I know we’d be good together and I think you know it, too. You’re everything I want in a wife. Smart and gorgeous. With a big heart—and see? I get that now. The heart. It matters. You’re all that, and you keep me honest. I don’t really like that you take zero crap from me, but I respect you for it.”

  “Stop. The sheer beauty of this proposal is killing me.”

  He held her gaze, so determined. And hot. Really hot. She felt a little breathless just from the intensity of that look in his eyes. “Think about it.”

  She would—she did think about it. All the time. But no way was she saying yes to him. Not yet, anyway. Not until he understood that there had to be love, that love was the first thing, the real starting point. Not until he could say that he loved her with all his heart—say it and mean it. Not until she could do the same.

  She tried, gently, to make him understand. “There has to be love, Roman. Love takes time and care.”

  His eyes darkened. “So then, that’s a no?”

  She kissed him again, a soft, brushing, tender kiss. “You’re not real comfortable with the subject of love, are you?”

  * * *

  Roman had no idea how to answer her.

  He loved Theo and he loved Ma. But his one foray into loving a woman he wanted had not ended well. He’d been so sure Charlene was the one for him. He’d planned to love her to distraction for the rest of their lives.

  It had all been a lie—from the first, on her part. On his, well, by the end he knew he was a fool, all bleeding heart and yearning soul, while she was just there for the cold, hard cash.

  He didn’t really know if he could go there again and he preferred not to give the subject all that much thought.

  Hailey brushed another soft kiss across his mouth. “Let’s table the love talk and the marriage proposals for now, huh?”

  He felt relief—and disappointment, too. He didn’t want to go to the love place. But he really wanted to marry her for all the reasons he’d already laid out for her. Why couldn’t she just accept that they should be together and do things his way?

  It was a ridiculous question to be asking himself. He knew that. They were the same, the two of them, each accustomed to taking charge. And he actually liked that about her, too, even though it meant she had strong opinions on what needed doing and how to do it.

  “Deal,” he said, and nuzzled her cheek, breathing in the scent of her skin, a heady combination of vanilla and roses and that indefinable something that was Hailey and Hailey alone. The smell of her was as tempting and addictive as the rest of her.

  He took her mouth. Invading the slick wetness beyond her parted lips with his tongue, he tasted her deeply, aware that he was breaking his own promise to himself. He’d fully intended not to give in, not to take her to bed until he had her agreement to marry him. But he needed her tonight like he needed to draw his next breath.

  “Stay...” The single word escaped him of its own volition.

  She drew back enough to look directly at him. Her cheeks were flushed. Her eyes gleamed with heat and hunger. “I already said yes. I said it that first night when you took me to dinner at that great place on the river in Astoria, where I proposed a fling. I’ve kept saying it. I haven’t changed my mind.”

  “Good answer.” He yanked her close and claimed her mouth again, reaching down to take the round globes of her pretty bottom in his two hands, feeling the sweet resilience of her flesh beneath the fabric of her jeans. Shifting her on top of him, he guided her to straddle his hips and swung his legs over the side of the sofa, bringing them both to a sitting position.

  He went on kissing her, loving the way she sighed his name into his mouth as he stood.

  “Hold on,” he advised, licking the two words onto her plump lips.

  “Wait a minute.”

  He groaned at any delay in his upcoming gratification. But all of her concerns did need addressing. Pressing his forehead to hers, he asked, “Yeah?”

  “Well, I was just thinking—you know, about your mother. I mean, what if we’re noisy? That would be awkward.”

  Noisy sounded pretty damn good to him. As for her concern? Easily dispelled. “I promise you, I like my privacy as much as the next guy. I would not have taken this house if the soundproofing wasn’t state-of-the-art.”

  Her smile bloomed slow and extra sweet. “All righty, then. Let’s go.” She twined her arms and legs around him and he carried her up the stairs.

  * * *

  Inside the master suite, Roman paused at the door, his mouth locked on hers. With a flick of one foot, he swung the door shut behind him, backed up to it and kissed her some more.

  She tasted so good, like all the things he’d thought for too long he would never have. And it was not only the taste of her that drove him wild. It was also the way she kissed him back—so eager and shameless, sexy little moans escaping her.

  Unwrapping her legs from around him, she slid down the front of him, rubbing his hardness as she went, making him hurt for her in the best sort of way.

  When her feet touched the floor, she pulled back enough to gaze up at him through starry eyes. He engaged the lock.

  And then he yanked her close again and took that perfect mouth of hers once more.

  She was going to need something to lean on before he took her to the bed, so he turned them as he kissed her, until her back was pressed against the door.

  He got the hem of her knit shirt in his two hands and lifted it. Her mouth still fused with his, she raised her arms for him. The kiss broke as he whipped that shirt up and tossed it away.

  Glancing down, he saw she wore a lacy pink bra that held up her small, round breasts like an offering. A growl escaped him. “So beautiful.” Cradling the pretty little mounds in his two hands, he swept his thumbs over the silky skin, so smooth and plump above the lacy cups.

  She reached behind her and undid the clasp.

  He glanced up from his big paws cupping her delicate flesh and into her luminous eyes as the bra came away in his hands. He said something guttural. It wasn’t really a word. Just need and appreciation—and the good kind of pain a man feels when he’s strictly denied himself but can’t bear the deprivation for one moment longer and is finally about to get what he needs.

  With twin flicks of her fingers, she let the straps drop down her arms. The bra fell away.

  Irresistible, those pretty swells tipped in dusky pink. He took them, bare now, in his hands. She moaned as he bent his head to get his mouth on her. Heaven, the taste of her, the feel of her nipple, turning tight and hard, elongating against his tongue, vanilla and roses filling his head.

  He molded the gorgeous shape of her, his hands cradling her ribs, palms sliding
lower. Her skin was like velvet. Her body moved eagerly, swaying toward him, offering him everything—now.

  At last. Tonight.

  His clothes confined him. He wanted them off. She stared at him, her mouth a soft O as he whipped his shirt over his head and tossed it away, then ripped his zipper wide and shoved his pants down along with his boxer briefs. Kicking the tangled mess away, he raised one foot and then the other, bending to pull off his socks.

  “Roman...” Her tone was reverent, those eyes of hers neon blue. She reached out and pressed her soft hand flat against his chest. He caught that hand, cradled it, raised it to his mouth to kiss the heart of her palm. They stared at each other, a long look full of heat and need.

  Still holding her gaze, he dropped to his knees. She sucked in a sweet, sharp breath as he brushed his fingers over her belly, undid the button at the top of her jeans and pulled the zipper down. Her lacy white panties came into view. He pushed the jeans a little lower and smiled at what he’d revealed.

  “So beautiful,” he whispered, leaning in, pressing a kiss to the shadow of her cleft behind the flimsy barrier of satin and lace.

  Pretty as they were, those panties had to go.

  He hooked his fingers under the elastic waistband and slid them down until they met the jeans. And then he took everything—the jeans and the panties—sweeping them away down those fine legs of hers.

  Her silvery hair swung forward, brushing his shoulder, warm silk against his skin, as she braced her right arm on his other shoulder and got her feet free. With her toe, she nudged the twisted wad of fabric out of the way, reaching down to remove her bright purple socks.

  He caught her by the waist and then gently pushed her upright, until her back was against the door. Gazing down at him, her hair sliding over those fine bare breasts, she took a shuddering breath. There was so much of her he couldn’t wait to get his hands and his mouth on. He was so hard right now, it hurt.

  A good hurt, the best. To see her naked, before him. To have her at last. She destroyed his control. The scent and sight of her, the sound of her breathing, the random moan that escaped those lips he couldn’t wait to kiss again... All of it took him away to a place where there was only the next touch of her hand against his skin and the sweet way she whispered his name.

  For now, for tonight, she made him forget that life was too damn fragile, and a man could plan and work and scheme and prepare—and still, he couldn’t always protect the ones who mattered. Some things were beyond even his iron control.

  He was lost in her and he needed that—at least for tonight.

  She watched his face as he lifted a hand and laid it on her upper chest, his middle finger touching the tender groove where her delicate collarbones came together. Just the feel of her skin was so much to him—everything. So smooth. So alive.

  He trailed his hand down between those pretty breasts, over the sweet curve of her belly, to the neat landing strip of pale hair between her silky thighs.

  She said his name again, sweet and low. All breath and yearning.

  He dipped a finger in. Wet. Warm.

  She moaned and rocked toward him. He used his other hand to hold her in place as he rubbed with his thumb on the sensitive nub at the top of her cleft and slid another finger into her perfect, wet heat.

  Her body rocked against him, eager, needful. He glanced up as he put his mouth on her. With a long, desperate groan, she let her head fall back against the door.

  He went on kissing her, using his tongue and his fingers to drive her higher. She tasted so good, of roses and woman and the sweetest surrender, so beautiful and so completely his.

  He whispered encouragements, driving her higher, until she reached down and grabbed his head between her hands. She fisted his hair as he felt her go over, her body milking his fingers, pulsing on his tongue.

  And then she was pulling at him, urging him upward. He rose and she met him, claiming his lips in a long, searing kiss.

  “Bed,” he said, “now,” when they came up for air.

  She bit her upper lip and confessed, “I’m, um, not sure I can walk yet.”

  “No problem.” He scooped her into his arms and carried her over there, setting her down on the turned-back sheets and then sliding in next to her, taking her mouth in another lengthy kiss. That time, when they paused for breath, he remembered the awkward stuff that needed to be said. “I have condoms.”

  She leaned up on an elbow and gave him a dewy little grin. “I got the contraceptive shot right after I started trying to seduce you.”

  He caught a lock of her hair and rubbed it between his fingers. Silky and fine, just like her. “Excellent.”

  “You mean my trying to seduce you or that I got the shot?”

  “Both.” He smoothed the lock of hair and guided it behind her ear.

  “Well, okay, then.” She went on, “There hasn’t been anyone since Nathan. He’d only ever been with me and before him, I got tested, so I’m clean.”

  He nodded. “I got tested a few months ago. There’s been no one since then.”

  She leaned close. Her soft breast brushed his chest and her sweet scent excited him. “Okay, then. I think we can skip the condoms if you’re comfortable with that.”

  His answer was to haul her tightly against him, cradle the back of her head and guide her mouth down to his.

  * * *

  That kiss of his? It set Hailey’s world on fire.

  She lost herself in him, in the way his big, hot hands claimed her body, commanding and so very thorough, as though he needed to memorize her skin, learn every dip, swell and curve. She’d been frustrated, she would openly admit, at how long he’d made her wait for him.

  But this—now. Tonight...

  She might never admit it to him out loud, but tonight was worth the wait.

  He kissed his way down her body and spread her open for his mouth and hands again. It was heaven—so quickly, he sent her soaring into the stratosphere once more.

  When her heart and mind stopped spinning, she tugged on his shoulders and begged him, “Please, Roman. Come up here. I need you with me, in me. I need you now...”

  He didn’t argue or hold back—not this time. Not tonight.

  She reached for him, opening her legs to make room for him. He settled between her thighs, leaning up on his elbows, framing her face between those wonderful hands that knew just how to touch her, just how to make her body burn.

  His quicksilver eyes held her, owned her.

  She met them happily and whispered, “Please. Now,” as she reached down between them and wrapped her hand around his thick, ready hardness, guiding him to where she needed him.

  He came into her slowly, his gaze holding hers, his jaw set and determined. It had been such a long time for her. He was big and she was tight.

  But she was ready, so ready. And the way he filled her, stretching her, felt so good.

  With a last strong flexing of his hips, he was in her to the hilt. They stared at each other, both breathing fast.

  “You okay?” he whispered, lowering his head to her, brushing a kiss against her parted lips.

  “Good.” She stroked a hand down his hard flank, glided a finger up the bumps of his spine. He groaned at her touch. They were both sweating. “So good...”

  He warned, “Hold on...”

  “Oh, yes.”

  He took her mouth and started moving—slowly at first but picking up speed. She slid her hands down and grabbed on tight.

  And after that, well, everything got hazy in the best kind of way. They rolled on the bed, tangling the sheets beneath them as he moved inside her, so deep. So perfectly right. She came up on top and rode him, grinding against him, feeling him so deep within her, all the way to her hungry heart.

  And then they were on their sides, facing each other. She flung a leg over him to bring
him even closer. He moved within her, deeper than ever, it seemed.

  Until she felt her climax barreling down her spine, lighting up the core of her, moving outward from there, filling her body with heat and light.

  She felt him throb inside her, spilling into her as she pulsed around him, nothing left of her but sensation, glorious and free.

  Chapter Seven

  It was still dark when Hailey woke.

  She had no idea how long she’d slept. Roman was wrapped around her, spoon-fashion. He must have turned out the lights after she dropped off to sleep. She smiled to herself at the memory of what had happened between them in this big bed just a little while ago.

  But how long ago, exactly? Was it morning already? She had no clue. Her phone was in her purse downstairs on one of the kitchen counters, if she remembered right—and the alarm clock was on Roman’s side of the bed. Carefully, she shifted, trying to turn over and check the time without waking him.

  She managed to turn over, but then his eyes opened.

  “I could get used to this.” He smiled sleepily and she felt a light brush of a touch under the covers as he skated a hand up over her hip and down into the cove of her waist.

  She got up on an elbow so that she could see the clock. “It’s after four.”

  His hand kept moving, sliding out from under her arm, brushing the curve of her breast, caressing her shoulder and finally easing around the nape of her neck. “Don’t even think about leaving.” He rubbed, massaging, down her nape and back up. It felt good.

  She let out a pleasured sigh. “I should text Harper, just to let her know where I am.”

  “I might allow that.”

  “Oh, thank you so much because I wouldn’t do anything without your permission.”

  “If only you could say that with just a hint of sincerity.”

  She gave a low laugh. “Too bad I left my phone downstairs.”

  He traced the line of her jaw and brushed the back of his hand over the curve of her cheek. “I’ll go down and get it for you. In a minute.”