Page 17 of Bourbon Wishes (Wine Country Alphas #3)

I whimper at the loss…and then whimper again when he slides to the edge of the seat, aiming his cock at my face. I close my eyes and open my mouth as the first hot rope of cum lands against my cheek.

He groans my name when he sees it, coming all over my face…and I'm aching and desperate all over again, the same way I always am when he's dripping down my face like this.

"Jesus, Constance," he groans, reaching out to scoop the cum from my face. His thumb brushes my lips as he pops it into my mouth. "Something about you covered in me makes me crazy, baby."

I wrap my lips around his thumb, sucking hard.

He growls my name, part warning, part praise, and then hauls me up onto his lap to clean me up. As soon as he wipes the last drop from my face, I'm bent over the side of my desk with my panties around my ankles.

By the time he's finished with me, my desk is in ruins yet again.

" D o you plan to have kids soon?" Luna asks, her wide, hopeful eyes locked on me across the dinner table later that night. "And if so, how many do you want?"

I choke on a bite of steak.

"Shit," Bastian mutters, patting me on the back while he glares at his mom. "Ma, you can't just ask her shit like that."

"Why not? It's just a question," Luna huffs at her son. "Honestly, Bastian, you'd think I asked her how many vibrators she owns."

"Dad!" Bastian turns an exasperated look on Carter, who is hiding laughter behind his beer bottle.

"She's right," Carter says, his eyes twinkling with humor. "It's just a question, son."

"You are no fucking help."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Was I supposed to be helping?

" Carter asks, one brow arched at his son.

I swear, they look so much alike it's unreal.

If Bastian and Jareth are going to look like him when they're older, the world is seriously unprepared.

"Because I'm almost positive that I sleep with your mom every night.

Do I look stupid enough to fuck that up on your behalf? "

I place my hand over my mouth, laughing quietly, when Bastian makes a sound of utter disgust.

He turns a dark look on me. "Do not encourage them."

"Three," I say, glancing over at Luna.

She sneaks a peek at Bastian, mischief in her eyes. "Vibrators or kids?"

"That's it!" Bastian hauls himself to his feet, accidentally scooting the table back several inches. "Dinner is over!"

Luna falls into bright peals of laughter across the table, clutching her sides.

"Sit back down, son," Carter says, shaking his head. "She's just fucking with you because you make it so easy."

I tug on Bastian's arm, urging him to sit. Luna's questions aren't bothering me, even though they're stressing Bastian out. Honestly, I kind of love how she just says whatever is on her mind. It's hard to be nervous about dinner with his parents when they're the most laidback people on earth.

Bastian grumbles and then drops back down in his seat, but even though he's stressed, he can't help the soft look he shoots Luna when she wipes tears from her eyes. "You're a menace, Ma."

"I've been telling you and your brother that for years," Carter says, spearing a piece of steak with his fork. "And she's got two daughters just like her." His gaze flickers to me. "For Bastian's sanity, please give him boys."

"Um…" I fidget nervously, pretty sure Bastian is going to shut that down lickety-split.

"She'll have whatever she wants to have," he says instead, almost as if it's a foregone conclusion that I'll be having his babies.

I turn wide eyes on him, shock thrumming through me, but he's not even looking at me. Luna is, though. She sees the look on my face and grins at me like she knows something I don't.

Apparently satisfied with the information she's gleaned, she changes the subject to the vineyard. While Bastian fills them in on preparations for launching the new line, I sneak glances over at him, my mind spinning.

Does he want to have kids with me, or was he just trying to appease his parents?

The fact that I don't know how to answer that question may actually drive me mad.

But we haven't used protection. The one time I even brought it up, he had me on my back so fast I forgot what we were supposed to be talking about.

Was that on purpose? Surely he isn't trying to get me pregnant…right?

It should worry me that I don't know the answer to that question, but when he slips his hand under the table, reaching for mine, my mind settles. Our fingers lace together, and my heart pulses in my chest.

Sooner or later, I have to tell him how I feel about him. So…why haven't I? It's a good question. I just don't have an answer.

" D inner was interesting tonight," I murmur hours later, curled up in Bastian's arms as sweat dries on our skin.

He snorts in my ear. "I tried to warn you."

"I had fun."

"Yeah?"

I hear the smile in his voice and nod. "Yeah. I love your parents." I pause. "They did bring up a good point, though."

"If this is you asking for a raise, I probably won't say no while you're naked," he says with a wicked chuckle.

I jab him in the ribcage with my elbow. "That's not what I'm talking about. But yes, please give me a raise. Your mom thinks I deserve it for putting up with you." Luna is a queen who can do no wrong. I said what I said.

He just chuckles again. "What point are you referring to?"

"Kids," I murmur, my voice whisper-quiet.

He tenses beneath me.

"If we aren't careful, we may be dealing with more than our own lives soon," I say softly. "Maybe we should start using protection."

His hand slips down my body, landing against my belly. The way he cups it almost protectively makes my soul quiver with need. "You think I wouldn't want to deal with a baby, Constance?"

"I…"

He tips my head back with his free hand, his eyes meeting mine. His expression is intense, his eyes as deep as the sea. "Getting you pregnant wouldn't be a problem for me, baby."

I gape at him, my lips parted in shock. "W-what?" I finally manage to ask.

"It wouldn't be a problem," he murmurs.

"I…" I blink at him, suspicion running through me. "Bastian Grayson, are you trying to get me pregnant?"

"I'm not not trying."

"What does that mean?"

"It means…" He trails off, rolling us until we're side by side, facing each other. "It means if it happens, it happens. I won't be mad about it." He tips my head back, brushing his lips against mine. "I can think of worse things than you having my kids."

"I…you…" I splutter and stutter, speechless for once.

His lips quirk into a grin, one finger drifting down my cheek. "I like you like this."

"Like what?"

"Cuddly and silent. It means you don't hate the idea of me trying to get you pregnant."

"Bastian."

"If you hated it, you'd be strangling me right now."

"Bastian."

"But you're just…silent. I like it."

"Maybe I'm silent because I'm realizing that you might actually be insane," I grumble. "You're talking about us having kids like it's normal."

"Why can't it be?"

"Because…because…because I work for you!" I finally splutter like that should be obvious. "Have you forgotten that you're my boss? That we're not even supposed to be sleeping together?"

"Fuck that," he grunts. "We can do whatever the hell we want."

"So says you," I mutter.

"What does that mean?"

"It means you have job security here. If we don't work out, you don't lose anything.

You get to keep going to work like nothing ever happened, completely secure in your position because it's your family's company.

I don't have that luxury. If we don't work out, I lose my job.

And if I lose my job, how am I supposed to take care of myself, let alone a baby? "

"You aren't going anywhere," he growls, his eyes narrowed on me.

"I told you before, your job doesn't depend on you sleeping with me, Constance.

What's between us has nothing to do with work.

And if you think I wouldn't support you and our baby, I'm going to be pissed about it. I take care of what's mine."

"That's not the point!" I cry, exasperated.

"Then what is the point?"

"My point is, the lines between us are so blurred, there are no lines.

You fuck me in my office. You fuck me in yours.

I'm in your bed every night." I groan, digging the heels of my hands into my eyes.

"God, Bastian. You have the privilege of not worrying about what could go wrong.

I don't have that luxury. You're my boss.

My livelihood is entirely dependent on you.

How do you not see the problem with that? "

He's silent for a moment, processing. "You really think I'd fire you if you decided you didn't want to be with me?"

"No," I whisper. He may be a lot of things, but one thing he isn't is heartless or cruel. "But do you really think I could keep coming to work every single day if it doesn't work out?"

Do you really think I can watch you fall in love with someone who isn't me?

He sighs heavily, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. "I'm not willing to lose you, Constance. I need you at work. I need you here." He squeezes my hip. "I want this. I want you ."

"I want it too," I admit. "But…"

"But what?"

I'm in love with you, and I'm fucking terrified because I've never felt this way.

God, why is that so hard to say when he's basically telling me that he wants a future with me? That he wants my kids?

Because I'm terrified it'll all be ripped away, that's why. I'll give him my soul, and everything will break. I'll lose him, my job, my friends…everything. And I'll have to spend the rest of my life existing on memories of when he was mine.

I'm not ready to face that, not when he's not even willing to admit that I'm right. If this doesn't work out, he gets to continue life like normal. I'm the one who loses everything. He wants to be my boss and my future…but it doesn't work that way. It can't.

"But reality doesn't always care what we want," I say instead of telling him any of that. I can't make him love me. I won't beg him to give me his heart…but I'm not sure I'll ever be content with anything less.

He sighs again, pulling me into his arms. "We're reality, baby." His lips brush my shoulder. "You might not see it, but I do."

"I do see it," I admit on a whisper. "That's what scares me, Bastian. I could lose everything, including you."

He tips my head back, his lips soft against mine. "I'm not going anywhere, Constance."

I want to believe him. God, I want to believe him so fucking badly. But…for all his promises and assurances, he still hasn't told me how he feels about me. It's three little words, and he can't—or won't—say them.

And maybe that's my answer. He wants me…just not enough.