Page 39 of Coming Up Roses

Her breaths are shallow as she guides me back up to her lips. She traces my lips with her tongue, and I drag my hands up from her hips, caressing the outer swell of her breasts. Before long, our hands are exploring, and she's rocking against me as we’re once again lost in each other.

Slowly, I break our kiss. I need to take things slow with Myla Rose. She deserves nothing less than the best. I run my hands through her hair and she drops her forehead to mine.

"You are so damn beautiful," I tell her as she stands from my lap, looking dazed and content.

"Th–thank you, Cash." her cheeks are that sweet rosy hue, and I'm struck hard by the fact that even though she's pregnant, she's so damn innocent. That just solidifies my decision to slow us down—to take my time.

"Anytime, darlin'. You mind if I use your restroom?"

"Not at all. Down the hall, first door on the right."

I stand, adjusting myself as I go, which causes her blush to shift from rosy to red hot.

* * *

A splashof cold water to my face, and I'm good to go. Making my way back out to where Myla Rose is waiting for me, I stop dead in my tracks when I see her pacing the room . . . with my phone in her hands.

"Everything okay?"

"I don't know. Is it?" Her voice is like ice.

I rack my brain, desperately trying to figure out why she's upset with me. "You tell me, darlin'."

"I'm not your damn darlin', so cut the shit. I’ve gotta admit, you’ve got a hell of a good game going, Cash Carson. Long game too, huh?"

Another text rolls in and she drops my phone to the coffee table like it burned her. "I'm honestly not following. You’ve gotta help me out here."

"Why'd you take me out, Cash?" I walk over to her, slowly, not wanting to upset her even more.

"A few reasons . . ." I trail off when I see why she's so angry. Goddamn it.

Jake: You take my advice, brother?

Jake: The best way to get over someone is to get under someone new.

Jake: Seriously, you hit that yet?

"Myla, it's not what you think—"

"Just save it. I'm not an idiot."

I slip my phone back into my pocket, panic and guilt rioting inside me.

"If you—if you'd just let me explain . . ."

"Let you explain what? That you're only with me to get laid? No, you can get out." She tosses my wallet and my keys at me and points to the door.

"Okay, I’ll go . . . but this isn't finished." I roll my head from side to side, trying to release the mounting pressure. “Far from it. You be sure to lock up," I tell her before trudging back out to my truck.

Slamming the shifter into gear, I haul ass out of there, ready to tear my brother a new one. What the fuck was he thinking?

---