Page 102 of Moonlighter
As if I even could. My whole being just waits for him, anticipating his mouth on mine.
And he doesn’t disappoint. He tips my chin upward and then quietly fits his lips against mine. The slide of his kiss, and his masculine scent are all I need right now. His arms close around me, and I lean into the kiss. His whiskers are scratchy against my face. But his lips are soft.
For a moment, though, I try to hold back my heart. I’ve spent the whole day vibrating between strength and despair. If I let myself go—if I let Eric hold me and take away my fear—I honestly might not find the dignity to pull myself together again afterward.
But his kiss is slow and convincing. It asks all the questions and then answers them at the same time.See how much you need this? Yes.
Don’t we understand each other? Yes.
Are you going to let me taste you one more time?
Yes, I really am. The second I part my lips, we’re making out like teenagers in the middle of my bed, his hands in my hair. No matter that my giant belly keeps bumping up against the hard planes of his abs. I strain to move even closer to the heat of his mouth, and the eager slide of his tongue against mine.
And even though we don’t line up exactly the same way as we did in Hawaii, I can feel his body beckoning to mine. Our legs intertwine. My face is flushed, and my nipples are hard, and my lips are bitten from his kisses.
But this is not Hawaii. “What are we doing, Eric?” I gasp.
“Stress relief,” he grunts as his hand moves temptingly along my ass.
“But we’re not a couple.” The effect of my argument is muted somewhat by the whimper I let out as he kisses me again.
“So you say,” he says between kisses. “And yet you’re stroking my cock.”
Oh hell, I am! My palm goes still. Even through the fabric of his jeans, I can feel how hard he is. And now I’m clenching my thighs against the desire that’s already pooling there.
“Well, sure,” I stammer. “I really miss your cock. But on the other hand, I’m so—” It’s just dawning on me that getting naked in front of Eric might be embarrassing. The sports bra I’m wearing could shelter a small village. “I’m a bloatedwhale.”
“Maybe I have a thing for oversized marine life.” He kisses me again. Then his hand dips into my yoga pants, coasting over my ass.
And I stop worrying, at least temporarily, because I lose my train of thought. Eric kisses the way he does everything else—with understated skill and intelligence. And great reflexes. His hands mold and press. His fingers tease my skin, while his tongue stokes me toward heat and heaven.
“You’re a crazy man,” I moan between kisses.
“Where I come from that’s a compliment. Unzip me, Engels. You know you want to.”
He isn’t wrong. And after considering the idea for at least a half second, I fumble for the button on his jeans. If Eric Bayer wants to give this pregnant lady one more fun night, who am I to argue?
It’s awfully bright in here, though. There’s still a part of me who worries that he’ll get one look at my round body and run for the door. “This might be awkward,” I warn him.
“Why? Do you have a cat who likes to watch?”
“What? No!” I let out a nervous giggle. “But…I can’t be on my stomach. And I’m not supposed to lie on my back. And up against the door is a nonstarter…” I wiggle away from him and shut off the bedside lamp, plunging us into relative darkness.
“You are thinking way too hard,” he says, grasping my T-shirt and lifting it over my head. “But thank you for wearing elastic pants.” He grabs those and tugs them off, too.
His next kiss shuts me up, which is a relief to both of us. Iamthinking way too hard. It’s my superpower.
But not for long. My hands are too busy pushing down his jeans and boxers. And then my palm finds his erection, with his hard, hot shaft against my hand.
“Now we’re talking.” His voice is a rough scrape. He sheds his T-shirt, tossing it to the floor.
And now I’m just a little bit sorry I turned out the light, because I’m becoming reacquainted with his impressive abs. I’m on all fours now, tracing my lips across his tight stomach, inhaling the scent of his skin.
Eric kicks off his shoes and pushes his jeans all the way off.Yes. And when I dip my chin and take his cockhead into my mouth, he lets out a happy grunt.
“Fuck yes.” His hands are in my hair. “Take more.”
I moan my assent, and then try to do just that. The truth is that I never enjoyed this before I did it for Eric. It was a part of sex that was expected rather than enjoyed.
