Page 68 of Pregnant in Pennsylvania

“If it’s like I remember it being.”

“How do you remember it?”

He brings his mouth to mine, whispers with his lips brushing mine. “Like…heaven. Like home.”

I blink hard, and then my eyelids remain shut and all I feel is him, his body against mine, his palms on my cheeks and his fingers dancing along my skin and his lips against mine.

The kiss is everything that is sensual. I’m lost in it immediately. Instantly. I breathe him, taste him, feel him. Only him. Jamie is everything, everywhere. The cool panes of glass against my back, his hips hard against mine, my breasts crushed between us, I lift my face to his and open my lips and take his tongue, strong and hungry, against my teeth and lips and tongue.

His thumbs brush my cheekbones and my heartbeat is a hammering drum in my chest. I lean into him, gasp through the kiss and drown in it.

My skin heats, and tightens. Tingles. I throb. My hands tangle in his hair and catch at it, pulling him closer.

God, kissing Jamie Trent is incredible.

His words: Like heaven, like home.

My words: Sweet, delirious perfection.

My heart throbs, pounding with frantic intensity—my heart opens like a flower spreading her petals for the sunlight. I clutch at him and I whimper, and I kiss him for all I’m worth.

God, I could kiss him forever.

His palms slide down my cheeks, and our lips move, meld, shift, lock and seek and hunt and slide. His tongue dances along mine. His hands are at my waist, on my hips.

I’m not breathing, only kissing Jamie.

I’m trapped between Jamie and the window, and I want nothing in this moment but to remain here like this, trapped thus, his lips devouring mine.

His heartbeat slams in his chest, each beat goingthumpthump…thumpthumpagainst my ribcage, against my breasts.

He palms my backside, and I lift up, press against him, lean into his touch and cradle his head in my hands and lift up on my toes and I kiss him, and I kiss him, and I kiss him.

“Mom?” Aiden’s voice is so confused.