Page 75 of Until Hanna

“What?”

“I’m home for three weeks.”

“What?” I pull back to see his face, sure I heard him wrong.

“Toni had a family emergency back in Texas and won’t be back for at least three weeks.”

“Really?”

“Really.” His expression softens as his hand slides down the back of my hair.

“I shouldn’t be happy that he had an emergency, but I am.”

He smiles and starts walking me backward.

“What are you doing, Mr. St. James?” I ask, sounding breathless when he begins kissing down the column of my throat.

“I have something to show you in the bedroom.”

“Do you?” I laugh, falling back onto the bed, and he comes down on top of me, careful to keep his weight off my belly.

Leaning over me, he kisses from my lips, down the column of my throat, to the tops of my breasts, and then he lifts my shirt and kisses down to my belly. “Do you know he’s the size of a strawberry?”

“Or she.” I drag my fingers through his hair that is longer than before.

“Or she.” He smiles up at me. “He or she also doesn’t look like an alien so much anymore and no longer has webs between his or her fingers and toes.”

“Really?”

“Yep.” He kisses my belly and unclasps my jeans.

“What else have you read about?”

“That if you were having any morning sickness, it should be getting a little better now.”

“I haven’t been getting sick. My boobs are just extra sensitive, and I’m tired all the time.” I lift my hips as he tugs my jeans down.

“I also read that you might have an increased sex drive.”

“Did you actually read that?” I laugh, then bite my lip when his fingers slide along the elastic of my underwear right between my legs.

“I did.”

“I have been masturbating a lot,” I say, and his head flies up, his eyes locking on mine.

“Have you?”

“You haven’t been home.”

“My poor baby.” His fingers skim up my slit, and my hips jerk in response. “Already wet.” He pulls the skin of my belly between his lips and sucks. “What have you been doing to get yourself off?”

“I’m not telling you that.” I feel my cheeks get warm.

“Why not? I want to know.” His fingertips roll over my clit, making me gasp. “Are you using a toy or your fingers?”

“I’m not telling you,” I repeat, then whimper when he covers my mound through the lace and sucks hard.

“Oh my God, Walker,” I cry, wanting more and wanting him to stop because it’s too much.

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