Page 69 of Pregnant By the Playboy

“You bastard,” I mutter as I lean forward so I can also touch his knee.

It strikes me as slightly ridiculous. We’re at a restaurant with delicious food on the table in front of us. We can’t really do anything to each other here.

And yet.

I help myself to some rice. That’s what’s important right now. Food. Providing myself with nourishment for a wild evening of sex.

No! I’m not supposed to sleep with him.

Okay, it’s time to be honest with myself. I’m going to sleep with him. I’m super horny and he’s very willing and extremely hot.

I can handle this, though. I’m just craving him because I’m pregnant, right? We can sleep together—it’s a sensible thing to do. I was scared that sex would change things and there would be no going back, and I’m still not sure what I want beyond tonight...but I was wrong to worry. It’s only sex; we’ve done it before. It doesn’t have to mean anything.

“What are you thinking about?” Vince asks.

I stab a piece of pepper. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing I’ve decided to sleep with him.

He rubs circles over the inside of my knee with his thumb, and I clench my thighs.

“Oh, nothing,” I say as I continue to eat. The food really is good, but not as perfect as it would feel to have Vince inside me...

I squirm in my seat and try to swallow my moan, but I don’t quite manage, and Vince spears me with one of his sexy-as-all-get-out grins.

If I hadn’t already decided to sleep with him, that would have done the trick.

“What did you have planned for after dinner?” I ask, trying to act all cool. “Another bar with good mocktails?”

“No,” he says.

Oh, thank God! We can go back to my place and have sex!

“It’s a nice night, isn’t it?” he continues. “It’s finally starting to feel like spring. There’s a gelato place near St. Clair...why don’t we mosey down there after dinner? We could also stop for some tea—”

“Vince.” I grit my teeth.

“Why, whatever is the problem, Marissa?” He rubs his thumb a bit higher, and I practically beg him to drop to his knees and put his mouth on me.

However, we’re in a restaurant. The tables on either side of us are occupied, and someone would almost certainly notice. Although maybe, if he’s really stealthy...

No, someone would definitely notice, especially since I wouldn’t be able to keep quiet.

“You bastard,” I mutter again.

As payback, I pull down the neckline of my dress, just a little, and his eyes are, predictably, drawn to my cleavage.

Good. Two can play this game.

The waiter comes to clear our plates. “Would you like to see our dessert menu?”

“Sure, let’s take a look,” Vince says, annoyingly smooth. He touches my hand. “What do you think, honey?”

“I think we should get the bill,” I say decisively, looking at the waiter. “Please.”

He nods and brings it over two minutes later.

This time, I don’t argue over who’s going to pay the bill. That would be a waste of precious time. Instead, I let Vince use his credit card, and then I tug his hand and march out of the restaurant with him trailing behind me.

“Where are you going, Marissa?” he asks. “In a rush for something?”