Page 65 of Strike Zone

“I know you don’t expect anything from me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t give you what you need. Think about it. It’s not like we haven’t kicked the tires before.” He takes a step closer. “Friends with benefits isn’t the worst idea in the world, is it?”

“Yes. You don’t want to sleep with a pregnant woman.”

“You’re not some random preggo chick, Diana, you’re having my baby. We’re choosing to be friends, but I can help. You know I can make you feel good. I’ve already made you come countless times before. Tell me the sex isn’t great between us.”

“It was, but I don’t want to complicate things.”

“Orgasms don’t have to be complicated. They can be simple… earth-shattering… and plentiful.”

“We’re going to be in each other’s lives forever now that we’re planning to co-parent. Our friendship is based on a few drunken nights of amazing chemistry and the fact my IUD was a dud. Maybe for you, the lines won’t get muddied, but I’m not sure I can do the friends-with-benefits thing with you, Linc.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m hormonal, alone, and I don’t want to get too attached.”

“You’re not alone. And no offense, Diana, but you’re the least attachment-prone woman I’ve ever met. I’m pretty sure you’d kick me out of bed before my jizz had time to cool.”

“Gross. We definitely wouldn’t need to worry about romance.”

“Just think about it. The offer is there. If you want me, I’m yours.” His eyes drift to my lips. “While you’re up the duff and craving the D.”

“When you put it so eloquently…”

“Do you want me to get down on one knee?”

“Of course not. Look, I appreciate you offering to take the hit to help a girl out, but I wouldn’t do that to you. You’re hot and single. There are a million young, hot, not pregnant women in Manhattan who are desperate to warm your sheets. You shouldn’t have to slum it with me for months because we accidentally made a baby.”

I grab my purse and head for the door without meeting his gaze, but as I reach for the door handle, he spins me around, cupping my face in his hands. “Don’t ever talk about yourself like that again. Any man would be lucky to have you, Diana, me included. Whatever damage you have from your ex that makes you say things like that… I’m sorry. If you’re not having sex, then neither am I.”

“Who said I’m not having sex?”

“What? You did. Are you joking?” His brow furrows at the notion.

“We’re not together, so technically I can have sex with anyone, same as you can.” I wouldn’t because the thought of it makes me want to vomit, but he doesn’t need to know that.

Without warning, he captures my mouth in an all-consuming kiss, firm and sensual with an urgency that makes my pulse race.

“If another man so much as lays a finger on you while you’re carrying my child, I’ll rip his fucking throat out.”

“I’m not yours to own, Linc.” My body defies my words, giving itself freely, begging to be claimed as his. It must be the pregnancy hormones.

“Then consider mine yours to own while you’re pregnant. My cock, my mouth.” He ghosts his lips down my neck. “My tongue.”

I fight back tears for the tenderness in the low growl of his voice but also because this isn’t how I pictured this time in my life. I wanted love, trust, and forever. My baby is from a broken home before she’s born. Although I’m not sure you can break what has never been. I’ve screwed this up, and we haven’t even started yet. What kind of mother am I going to be if I can’t get this part right?

“Linc, what are we going to do?”

“Whatever you want, Diana. If you need to hate me, I’ll let you. If friendship is what you want, you have it. If you crave passion, I’ll gladly oblige.” He hesitates, staring deep into my eyes as he cups my face in his hands. “If you want my heart, I’ll give it to you.”

“I… I don’t know what to say.”

He presses a gentle kiss to my lips. “You don’t have to decide now. Think about it.” He wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me close to his side, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

“Thanks for coming with me today.”

“You’re welcome. Thanks for growing my immaculate DNA in your uterus. It’s kind of spectacular.”

My brain has no scathing remark or witty retort. Instead, I’m trying to dampen the desire sparking to life in my core, an ache that’s been building with every day that passes. The more time we spend together, the more I want to be around him. I’m not sure when I stopped hating Linc or if I ever felt anything close to hate in the first place. There’s a fine line between love and hate, and our strange, combative friendship is quickly becoming the most important relationship in my life.

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