Page 81 of Forbidden Mistress

His lips curl into a half smile. “Never call me that again.”

I lift a brow.

He dips his head, his lips hovering above mine. “Never mind. Call me whatever you want. Just promise you won’t leave me ever again.”

We’re still in the middle of the road, and a car honks at us. We both ignore it.

“As long as you tell me the truth, I’ll never have reason to leave,” I say.

His lips touch mine. “Deal,” he says, his warm breath brushing across my lips. “I’ve definitely learned my lesson.”

“Good,” I say, pushing my lips against his in a quick kiss. “Now, let’s go inside. We have some catching up to do.”

Chapter 32

Unconventional Family

Breathless, I fall back against Liam the moment he pulls out of me. Our sweat-soaked skin sticks together. And our chests are rising and falling fast. He tugs me against him and kisses me on the forehead. I squirm against the itchy carpet beneath us.

“That would have been much more comfortable on a bed than on the floor,” he chides, laughing.

I roll my head over and kiss his broad, solid chest. “It’s your fault.”

He blows out an amused breath, staring up at the ceiling while stroking my arm. “How on earth was it my fault? You attacked me.”

I bat my eyelashes a couple of times and flash him a grin. “Because you were the one looking insanely sexy putting that crib together. I had no choice but to attack you.”

“Well, as your punishment, I may just leave you lying on the floor. I doubt you’re getting up from here by yourself.” He runs his large palm over my swollen belly. I’m just about to finish my second trimester, and my sex drive has been ridiculously high for the past few months.

Liam has had no complaints and has been happy to comply—when he’s here. But since he’s been hopping from coast to coast every few weeks while he makes the transition of moving his company headquarters to the West Coast, it’s been a little dicey fitting in all the extra sex while he’s here.

But there is a hard deadline for the company move. He’s promised me there will be no traveling in the last six weeks just in case the baby comes early.

“So you’re going to keep me on the floor, barefoot, naked, and pregnant?”

He stretches his thick, muscled arms over his head and then turns on his side to face me. “Now that is a delicious thought.” This line he quips in his British accent and punctuates with a wicked grin.

He does that sometimes. Pops the accent on me just to mix it up a little and make me hot. He knows I like it.

I snicker at him, and he reaches up, palming my cheek and staring at me with an adoring look in his eyes. “You are so fucking beautiful that sometimes it hurts to look at you.”

“And you are a very accomplished liar. I’m a beached whale. Especially on the floor. What was I thinking? Sex on the floor of the nursery? I mean even not pregnant, carpet burns are hell.”

Since I’ve been showing, the sex has gotten a lot more vanilla than what we started out doing, but that’s because Liam has been far too protective to go rough. Though he’s made it quite clear several times that he’s enjoying himself all the same.

“Besides, there’ll be plenty of time to get back to the creative stuff once the baby’s here,” he reassured me.

Liam pushes off the floor and steps out of the room to grab some washcloths. He returns to hand me one and as he cleans up, he looks down on me with mock offense. “The dirty things you just made me do to you on the floor of our baby’s room!”

I laugh. “Oh, yes, you sure acted like you hated every second of it. Besides, this is the last room of the house we haven’t ‘christened.’”

The side of his mouth turns up cockily as he reaches his hand down, waiting for me to grab on so he can pull me up off the floor. “Then my work here is done.”

I point to the pieces of the still unfinished crib. “Hardly!”

I’m still mostly clothed, though my large mommy panties got flung across the room somewhere. I straighten the skirt of my casual cotton maternity dress across my legs and take his hand.

With one quick tug, I’m on my feet. He plants a kiss on my lips and takes the used washcloth from me. I point to them in his hand. “Make sure those make it inside the hamper. We don’t have a clean-up crew here.”

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