Page 68 of The Carver

“Uh…why?”

Instead of being offended by my poor response, he retained his smile. “I told her about you.”

“Oh…”

He took another drink from his coffee, which he drank black.

“I—I’m not sure if I’m ready for that.”

“Why?”

“What if she doesn’t like me?”

“Why wouldn’t she like you?”

“I—I don’t know.”

“If it makes you feel better, I don’t care whether she likes you or not.”

“Then why do you want me to meet her?”

His smile widened. “Because she’s my mom—and you’re my woman.”

My heart continued to race in anticipation. I had been nervous when I’d met Adrien’s mom, but that dread was unnecessary because we became close so easily. But Bastien’s mother was different.

He smirked like my uneasiness was comical. “What are you afraid of, sweetheart?”

“Well, you said drugs were part of the family business…”

“And you think my mother is some kind of mob kingpin?” he asked with a laugh.

“No,” I snapped. “But she might be really tough and rough around the edges.”

He chuckled again like the suggestion was preposterous. “She’s nothing like that. She’s an elegant woman who wears pearls and scarves and plays bridge with her girlfriends. She’s soft-spoken and wouldn’t raise her voice unless absolutely necessary because it’s impolite for a woman to yell. She’s like a miniature poodle—harmless.”

“Hard to believe a woman so meek raised a son like you.”

“She wasn’t the one who made me tough. My father deserves all the credit for that one.” His smile disappeared at the mention of his father, his expression turning hard and cold once again.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to meet his mother. I just hadn’t expected him to ask. “What did you say about me?”

He paused before he answered, like he needed a second to move past the thought about his father. “She asked if I was seeing anyone, a question she’d asked me a million times, and for the first time, I gave the answer she wanted to hear. She’s excited.”

“That sounds like no pressure at all…”

The smile started to come back. “She could hate you and it wouldn’t change anything, sweetheart. I’d prefer her to like you, but it’s not a requirement. She just needs to accept that you’re my woman.”

He removed a lot of the stress of the situation, but it was still unnerving.

“Be yourself.”

“Well, I can’t be myself too much.” I couldn’t show her all the sass and attitude. I couldn’t tell her that her son was the hottest piece of man meat I’d ever seen in my life.

His smile remained. “I think she can handle it.”

We returned to his place after breakfast, and the second we were in his bedroom, he came up behind me and tugged my shirt over my head before he gave my shoulder a hard kiss. He squeezed me to him as he slid his hand into the front of my jeans and played with my nub in my panties, kissing my shoulder and my neck as he rubbed his fingers hard into my clit, suffocating me in passion and pleasure instantaneously.

He tugged off my bra and unbuttoned my jeans before he yanked everything down then lifted me out of them, my socks still on. He set me at the foot of the bed and stood between my knees before he pulled down his bottoms and thrust inside me.

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