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The words feel both terrifying and electric, when the truth slips from my lips. Shock doesn’t ripple across his face. Instead, the worry lines blur, and his face softens.

“I know this isn’t good or a good time, but…”

He stares at me, wide eyed and silent, “It’s better than good. I want this. I want you—both of you. I swear I won’t let youdown.” Tears sting my eyes, but for the first time in days, hope begins to bloom, tickling my chest. “How long have you known? I’m so sorry that I didn’t let you know what was going on. I was trying to handle the scandal by myself when I should have confided in you.”

“You should have, but I understand you’re not used to depending on another person,” I say, wishing he had a dad like mine. Someone supportive of his decisions. Not a person who manipulates him. I don’t know the details of what happened to cause the scandal but he’ll tell me. “What are we going to do?”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

John

“Celebrate, Sunshine. Celebrate,” I say, stepping into her, walking her backward deeper into her apartment. When her calves hit the couch, I spin her around and as I sit, I pull her onto my lap.

The relieved giggle that escapes her makes me forget my troubles and concentrate on the woman I love. “Is that what you want?”

“The baby or to celebrate?” she asks with a sugary grin.

“Both.” Desire laces my voice, wanting to make love to the queen of my heart. She lays her hand on her stomach, already nurturing our baby so I place my hand over hers. My fingers hang over the edge of hers, and I feel her pulse skitter as our eyes meet. Questions and confessions stay unspoken, but a silent understanding between us that we’ll talk after the celebration.

Our breaths blend as her lips part, and I slowly savor the taste of toothpaste. Internally, I laugh. She’s such a good girl to brush her teeth before bed. But now it’s time to be a good girl for me.

When our lips are swollen, I pull on the hem of her shirt, and she says, “No.”

“Babe, I’m sure you’re not even showing.”

“It’s not that. I want you to own me and wreck me in your shirt.”

My mouth drops open because Becca isn’t a vocal partner. Sure, she may be in the heat of the moment, but this is love.

“Oh babe, that’s a request I can’t deny.”

She makes fast work of my jeans, unbuttoning and pushing my underwear down in one fell swoop, “Is my girl eager?”

We exchange erratic, sloppy kisses as I wiggle her out of her silky thong. With her mouth pressed against mine, she says, “Say it again.”

“Say what?” I’m so lost in her, I’m not sure what I said.

“That I’m your girl.”

I slow down. Roll her onto her back and slide down her body. Igniting her skin, and the proof is the shiver that rolls through her body. “You’ll always be my girl. But more than that, you’ll always be our baby’s mother.” I blow on her hot center. “More than that.” I lick through her folds and suck on her sensitive bundle. “You’ll be my wife, forever.”

“For…eve…r?” she says, her voice low and strained. As her fingers scrape through my short hair, she gyrates, bucking against my mouth.

When she climaxes, I smile as I climb up her body. “Forever. But right now, you’re going to ride me. Will having sex make you sick?”

“We won’t know until we try.” She winks as I flip us over, and she sinks down on my shaft. Her taut muscles welcome me and suck me in as far as possible. I sneak my hands up under the t-shirt of mine she’s wearing, pinching her nipples.

Gripping her hips, I help Becca find her rhythm. Her head falls back with the word yes falling from her lips. I slap her ass, and she yelps, “John. John.”

She’s like a ticking time bomb. I feel her knees squeezing around me and her inner walls clamping down. Then she goes off in a wild fury, faster and faster. I think I can hang on, but I can’t and for the first time, I blast a second before her.

It’s a completely different feeling chasing our orgasms together through chaotic movements and a trail of satisfaction and bliss.

Collapsing on my chest, both gasping for any bit of air we can, we lie on the couch. When our breathing evens, and her fingers make patterns on my chest, I know she’s thinking about the future and what it means, same as me.

Finally, I muster up enough courage to say what I came to say. I inhale a deep breath, and her head rises and falls as I skim her smooth, still-tanned skin with my fingers. Each stroke is lazy yet meaningful.

“Becca.”