Page 58 of The Run Home

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“I meant just a hand up,” I complained, feeling winded. Which made no sense. Boon was the one who did all the work getting me over here.

“Your wish is my command, lovebug.” He winked and opened the laptop. The screen came to life, showing a webpage with all kinds of baby furniture. I didn’t have my glasses, but I could see the zeroes from here. He was definitely looking at the wrong online store.

“What color should we do the room in? I assume we’ll use your old room?” His hand was on the trackpad, zooming through an assortment of cribs, all more beautiful than the ones before it.

“Whoa.” I put my hand on his. “That’s way too expensive for something that’ll have bodily fluids on it twenty-four seven.”

He wagged his eyebrows, that sexy smirk in full force. “I like the way you say bodily fluids.”

“Boon.” I gave him the teacher glare I’d honed over the years.

He let go of the laptop and shoved his hand in my hair, tugging it free of the hair tie and pulling me in for the kind of kiss that led to this whole situation. God, the man could kiss. He wiped my brain of every thought with each press of his tongue and twist of his lips. He made me hungry and not for more crackers.

The sound of the laptop sliding to the floor didn’t even stop him. He bent me backward and pressed me into the couch, his thick chest pinning me in place. My hands found their way into his hair and soon we were both panting, trying to continue the kiss and also breathe at the same time.

“What color, Shae?” he asked, sliding his hand under my shirt and somehow also peeling the sweater off my shoulders.

“Huh?”

“The baby’s room. What color?” He bent his head and kissed my belly, right above my navel.

Crap, why was that so hot? Him talking about the baby while kissing my belly?

“I don’t know if it’s a boy or girl yet,” I panted, squirming beneath him. His lips trailed from one hip to the other.

“When’s your next ultrasound?” He kissed up the center of my torso, lifting my shirt as he went. He made a noise in the back of his throat when he discovered my unbound breasts.

My nipples ached for him to pay them attention. My breasts were so sensitive these days. He seemed to know what I needed,sucking one nipple into his mouth and flicking the hardened tip. My back arched and my answer came out a wail.

“Monday afternoon!”

His mouth popped off my nipple as he lifted his head. “Good, I’ll come with you.” And then he licked my other nipple, making me cry out as the sensation made a beeline for my clit.

“God, you’re perfect, Shae,” he muttered, kissing, licking, flicking and teasing my breasts until I was on the verge of coming without even losing my pajama pants. But I really wanted his cock filling me when I came.

I forced my fingers to let go of his hair and tried to pull his shirt over his head. He stopped me, lifting away from me. I wanted to kick my feet in frustration.

“What’s the problem?” I asked. I swear to all things holy, if he said he didn’t want to have sex because he was disgusted by my changing body, I’d make him watch me come all over that life-sized vibrator I got at our HAGS meeting.

He wouldn’t meet my gaze. I opened my mouth to let him have it, but he shocked me by pulling my pants clean off my legs in one swift tug.

“So wet for me, aren’t you, lovebug?” he whispered, voice raspy and desperate.

“Yes," I hissed.

“I don’t want to do anything to hurt you or the baby,” he said, gaze coming up to mine, looking so conflicted I felt any anger seeping away.

“Boon, you’ve been railing me almost every night for three months. Pretty sure the baby’s fine.”

His head dropped, and I couldn’t help a little laugh. He lifted his head and glared. “That was before I knew. I want to talk to the doctor first and just make sure.”

I huffed, almost on the verge of tears. I wouldn’t have expected it, but pregnant women are damn horny!

“Boon—”

My mouth snapped shut as he tossed my thighs over his shoulders and buried his mouth in my pussy. My cry echoed in the room and from there on it was just panting and cursing while I thrashed on the couch. The man knew exactly how to touch me, what intensity drove me to the edge and when to back off to torture me. He didn’t use his fingers to penetrate me, and while I missed that feeling of his body filling mine, he made up for it by lapping, sucking, and flicking my flesh until sweat dotted my brow and stars danced across my vision.

“Boon! Please, oh God.”