Page 214 of Branded
Beth’s slender ankles were just visible beneath the gap at the bottom of the door as she unbuckled and stepped out of her side. In flats, because she was Beth and carrying Pru and Marcel’s precious cargo, so of course she was. But they were no less sexy, and neither was the dress, showing her curves, showing her belly, a belly that didn’t bring a twinge of pain any longer.
I’d come to understand it for exactly what it was.
Love.
Beth’s love.
So, it brought me pride and respect and love.
Beth took my hand as she moved around the door, and I drew her close and inhaled deeply. “Love the way you smell, sugarpie.”
She smiled, tapped her nose. “You do pretty good yourself. And that’s coming from this bloodhound of a nose. I feel like I can be a master perfumer.”
I tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “I heard that can happen during pregnancy.”
“Lucky”—she pressed closer, and my cock twitched at the contact—“my body likes the way you smell.”
My body liked hers. Period. The way she smelled, how she felt, every single inch of her. It liked her a whole fucking lot.
But…
Slow.
Causing no panic. No pain. No unwelcome dredging of the past.
I just wanted us to build a foundation so that when she was comfortable, she could come to me, share that past when she was ready.
Didn’t mean my dick wasn’t hard for her though.
Didn’t mean my dick didn’t throb when she pressed herself to me.
But instead of lowering my head and kissing her like I wanted to, I started to back away, to lead her into the house and to bed.
It was a late night.
She was growing two babies.
She needed her rest.
“You know,” she murmured, when I’d flicked on the kitchen lights and started to draw her through the space, “I’ve been thinking about these counters.”
That had me frowning, not following. “Okaaay,” I began.
“And I’ve been thinking about my dress.”
I had too.
Been thinking many, many things, but mostly about how it would look when it was crumpled into a pile on the floor.
“Yeah,” I agreed, and no lie, my voice ended up a rasp as she slipped her hand free, trailing the fingers that had been laced with mine just moments before across the counter. I wanted them drifting across my chest, lower, dipping down beneath the waistband of my pants, wrapping around my cock, stroking hard and fast and?—
“I’ve been thinking about how my dress was made.”
That I hadn’t been thinking about.
That I wouldn’t ever think about.
On sexy. Off better.
