Page 110 of Filthy Lovin Heroes

I wanted to be near Malcolm. I would do anything to be near him.

It wasn’t a thought I wanted to dwell on right now.

“I’m kind of a mess. Do you have a Kleenex?” I asked, straightening my rumpled skirt down over my hips. For the first time this evening, I was sorry about my lack of panties.

“No.” He arranged his kilt.

“Doesn’t that kilt have pockets?” A gush of cum slid down my inner thigh.

“Nope.” He glanced up at me with a heart-stopping smirk.

“What the fuck, Malcolm?” It was hard to be mad at him when all I wanted was for him to repeat what he had just done.

“I’m fine with you waltzing back in there with your pussy full of my cum.” He gave me a feral grin as he straightened his tie. “In fact, that’s how I prefer it. Let all those fuckers smell me all over you.” He paused to meet my eyes as he gathered me in his arms. “You do realize you could well be pregnant with my baby. Our first time you were on the pill. Neither of us bothered to think about it since you landed in Scotland.”

He was right.

“Truth? I hope I am.” I was drowsy with pleasure. I laid my head against his chest, hearing his heartbeat under my ear.

His arms came around me and for once I didn’t feel like the world might swallow me whole if I dared stopped for one minute.

“What are you saying?” He put one hand on my shoulder and used the other to tip my chin up.”

“Let’s talk about it later, Malcolm.” His eyes were full of hot, possessive desire, and something else that I couldn’t read.

“Now is good for me.”

“It’s not good for me.” I fastened my dress back around my neck.

He wanted to talk now? It was too soon. I wasn’t ready for the fairytale to end.

I smoothed my hands down my thighs, hoping to smooth any wrinkles out of my dress, then snatched his jacket off the floor where it had saved my knees and handed it to him.

But I’d never been a fan of fairytales, I preferred facts.

He didn’t budge.

Fine.

“It can never work between us. But that doesn’t stop me from wishing it could. I’d love to be carrying your baby. I haven’t been on the pill in a long time and didn’t even think about it.” I glanced up. “I think we both got carried away.”

His dark brown eyes were hooded in the shadow of the hallway. He was hurt. Of course, he was. He was a damned duke and used to getting whatever he wanted.

“It’s the truth.” The silence turned me into a babbler. Why didn’t I shut up? But I didn’t. I charged on. “Don’t worry, if I’m pregnant, I will cherish our child.”

Malcolm’s face went white. He grabbed my upper arms.

I winced at his grasp, and he loosened his hold.

“Are you fucking joking me?” His voice was hoarse.

“Of course not. I wouldn’t joke about something like that. You could visit anytime you like. I won’t be a barrier to you knowing our child. Besides, it’s too early to tell if I’m pregnant so I don’t know why we’re even discussing this now.”

“You are serious.” Malcolm breathed. His mouth set into a grim line. “You actually think you’re going to have my baby and raise it across the Atlantic Ocean. In what, a walk-up in the Bronx? And that I’d visit, every other Thanksgiving, or stop in a Christmas with a gift?”

“I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Your life is here. Someday, you’ll want a family here?—”

“Don’t you tell me what I want.” Malcolm leaned against the wall, his arms pinned on either side of me. He ran a hand through his hair. “I have enough other people doing that.”

---