Page 20 of Oops Baby for the Rockstar
Jett snorts. “No, don’t be sorry about that either. Iama love-struck asshole.”
My laugh is kinda gooey, because I’m sniffling like a champ, burying deeper and deeper into Jett’s arms. Now that I’m here, that feeling of safety is coasting through me again, relaxing my tensed-up muscles and calming my racing pulse.
How the hell did I find the strength to leave the hotel room that morning? How could I bring myself to leavethisbehind?
“This is it, though, right?” Jett squeezes me gently, and presses a long kiss to the crown of my head. His breath is hot against my scalp, and my low belly quivers. “Tell me this is it, Tams. We’re together from now on. No more secrets or misunderstandings.”
“This is it,” I agree, even though my throat is so tight with emotion that I can barely speak. Is this really happening? Does he really still want me, even after everything? How did I ever get so lucky?
Unless…
A sudden cold shiver runs down my spine, and I force myself to peel away from Jett and step back. It’s fully night out here now, but the stars and moon are bright enough that I can make out his handsome, troubled face as he frowns at me.
“What?” Jett says, his tone laced with dread. “What’s wrong?”
How can I ask this? How can I find the words without breaking my own heart?
“Do you…”
It takes me a few seconds to gather my courage. To firm my shoulders and raise my chin. It’s all fake, of course, because my insides are quailing, but my voice is steady as I ask: “Are you sure you still wantme? And not just the baby?”
Jett glowers, his eyebrows slamming down, but I force myself to keep going, even though each word bruises me.
“Because you can pick and choose. You can do all the dad stuff, without taking me back too. I won’t… you don’t have to have us both, if you don’t want that.”
“Tamsin,” Jett says, and it’s the first time I’ve heard him actually sound mad. My pulse skitters in response. “That’s the biggest steaming pile of bullshit I’ve ever heard.”
I light up brighter than the moon. “Really?”
Jett rolls his eyes. “Come here.”
The rock star moves without warning, swinging me up into his arms, bridal style. I let out a squeal, then wave off the crew guys when some of them look over, concerned. “I’m good,” I call. “This is a consensual kidnapping.”
“You bet it is.” Carrying me easily against his chest, Jett stomps away from the trucks and the lights and the people, heading into the velvety darkness of the city park. “And you’re done lugging heavy shit around for the next six months, baby. Done forever, if I have any say in the matter.”
I grin into the crook of his neck, inhaling that spice and leather scent. “We’ll see. Maybe I’ll try actually photographing one of your shows. I bet there’s something useful I can do around here. Something I can be.”
“‘Course there is.” Jett steps over a fallen log, carrying us away from the open grass and into the trees. Small twigs snap beneath his boots, and the breeze whispers through the canopy above. “You’re my fluffer.”
I punch his shoulder, laughing.
“Okay, wife,” Jett amends, teeth gleaming from his shit-eating grin. “You’ll be the mother of my child, my fluffer, and my wife. And whatever the hell else you want to be.”
Hiswife?
I have never been this incandescently happy.
“That’s sweet.” A gasp escapes my lips as Jett stops without warning, setting me down and pressing me back against a tree. It’s so familiar, so reminiscent of that brick wall he first kissed me against, that the world tilts as my arms loop around his neck. Deja vu thrums through me, mysterious and wild. “And what are you doing, carrying your future wife into the woods like a caveman?”
“What do you think?” Jett’s mouth curves against my neck as he kisses the tickly spot beneath my ear. “I’m gonna fuck her until she admits that she’s mine. I’m gonna ruin her for other men, starting now. And I’m gonna play a little game with myself, one called:Make Tamsin Scream My Name in Public.”
“That’s a really specific game,” I say, body arching toward Jett as he flicks the top button of my jeans open and dragsthe zipper down. I’m putty in his hands, leaning up for a deep, drugging kiss, then spinning happily when he turns me to brace my palms against the tree.
Heat blooms over my skin, and each rustle of my clothes, each tickle of breeze feels so intense already. I’m wound tight, my body taut with longing after three months apart from this man.
I want him to use me.
Want him toownme. To lay claim to every inch of my body, and to wring his own name from my tongue.
