Page 73 of Nine Months to Love

“I’m scared,” I admit. “Of… everything.”

“Me, too.”

“You don’t seem scared.”

“That’s because I’m very good at lying.” He leans his forehead against mine. “But I am, Olivia. I’m terrified. You’re too precious to me to lose.”

“Say it again.”

“You’re precious to me. You and this baby. You’re everything.”

It’s not quite a declaration of love.

But it’s close. Close enough for me.

24

STEFAN

The first raindrop hits my shoulder as I hold Olivia against me. Then another. Then a dozen more, cold and sudden.

“We should get inside,” I say.

But I don’t move.

Neither does she.

The rain comes harder, soaking through what little clothing we’re still wearing. Her bra is translucent white. Olivia tilts her face up, letting the water stream down her cheeks and pool in the hollow of her collarbone. Her eyes are closed. Her lips are parted.

I want to devour her.

“Olivia.”

She opens her eyes. The rain has plastered her hair to her face, and she’s shivering, but she’s also looking at me like she wants exactly what I want.

“I said, we should?—”

She kisses me.

It’s not gentle. It’s not sweet. Her hands fist in my wet hair as she yanks me down to her level.

I respond instantly, my body lighting up like someone flipped a switch. My hands slide down her back, over the curve of her ass, lifting her against me. She wraps her legs around my waist and I can feel her heat even through our soaked clothes.

“Stefan,” she gasps between kisses. “I need?—”

“I know.”

I carry her to the nearest flat surface, which happens to be a storage bench near the railing. I set her down on it and she immediately reaches for my pants, fumbling with the button.

“Let me,” I say, but she shakes her head.

“I’ve got it.”

She does. She gets my pants open and shoves them down my hips, her hands greedy and impatient. I return the favor, hooking my fingers in her underwear and dragging them down her legs.

The rain is coming down in sheets now, turning the deck slippery. Thunder rumbles somewhere in the distance. Olivia shivers again, but when I open my mouth to offer one more time to take her under cover where it’s dry and warm, she presses a finger to my lips.

“Don’t you dare,” she says. “Don’t you dare stop.”