Текст книги "Lost and Found"

Автор книги: Kelly Jamieson

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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

“Mom!”

“I’m just saying. Jumping from job to job. How would you expect to get promoted and rise up through a company when you only stay there for a year? Your father worked his whole life at the bank.”

“It doesn’t work that way anymore,” Krissa murmured. “Nobody works their whole life for one company.”

“Apparently. Anyway—I saw you doing that, and I was afraid…I thought having a baby would just interfere with your career even more. We were happy you started your own business, thinking maybe you’d finally found what you wanted to do.”

“I think I have.”

“But having a baby…just when you’re trying to start a business…”

For once, Krissa thought she understood where her mother was coming from. “I want both,” she said, meeting her mom’s eyes. “That’s what I want.”

“Then you should have both,” her mom said, sounding a little choked. “And we’ll do whatever we can to help you.”

“Thank you.”

They both looked into their mugs and sniffled.

“I’m sorry I gave you the impression I’m not happy with my life,” her mother said. She touched a finger to the outside corner of one eye and blinked. “Because the truth is, I love my life. I’ve been so very lucky to have your father and you girls. You were my life. Still are, even though you’re all grown and gone. It’s true, sometimes I think about what could have been…the career I could have had.”

“You still could have had it, Mom.”

“Yes.” She smiled faintly. “You are absolutely right. If I’d truly wanted it that much I would have had it. The truth is…” She swallowed. “I was afraid of trying. Afraid I didn’t have what it took to make it in the business world. Afraid I wouldn’t be the success I’d envisioned for myself.”

“And then you saw me…not being a success.”

They looked at each other. Krissa knew that’s what her mother had been thinking, even though she wasn’t agreeing with her. “I’m sorry, Krissa,” Lizbeth murmured. “I’m so sorry.” She turned the mug in her hands.

Silence settled between them.

“You know that saying? About the grass always being greener?” Lizbeth asked.

“I know.” Krissa shook her head. “Everyone wants what they don’t have. Sometimes I wonder if I really wanted a baby that much, or I just wanted it because I couldn’t have it.”

“You can be a little stubborn like that.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I understand, Krissa. Because I’m like that too. I thought I wanted a career. I saw women I’d gone to school with moving into senior positions…I wanted what they had. But I truly loved you and your sisters, and wanted to be the best mother I could be.” Her mom’s gaze softened. “You wanted a baby that much? That you would…”

“It’s complicated.” She looked down at her mug of tea.

“You seem so sad, Krissa. I know you want this baby…are you sure there’s no hope for you and Derek? If you love him…”

“I…I’m so confused about my feelings right now. I think Derek and I need to be apart. I need to figure out how I feel, and who I am. I’m just learning things about myself…”

“Maybe someday…”

“I don’t think so.” Krissa smiled at her mom. “I don’t want to give you false hope. I’m confused about things, but our marriage is over. I just need time. Time to be on my own, figure things out.”

“What about Nate?”

Krissa squirmed under her mother’s inquiring glance. “Same thing goes,” she murmured. “I need to figure out how I feel. But I will tell him about the baby. He has to know.”

“All right.” Her mother nodded. “So. You’ll need things for the baby.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Nate stared at the Indian Ocean through the fronds of a palm tree. The setting sun painted the sky mauve and apricot, the wispy clouds darker shades of lavender and peach. Turquoise water washed gently onto white sand. He framed the view into a shot in his mind’s eye.

He’d shot over a thousand images since he’d arrived in Indonesia, and he knew many of them were incredible. Different than anything he’d shot before. He’d been looking for scenes to express the conflict inside him and had created powerfully moving images of strength and weakness, light and dark, yearning and loss.

His cell phone buzzed at his hip and he slid it out of the holder and flipped it open. His brother Rich. Huh.

“Hey.”

“Hey, buddy. How’s it going?”

“Not bad.” Nate picked up his beer, the cold glass dripping with condensation in the warm, humid air. “What’s up?”

They’d spoken often since Nate had shown up back in L.A. four months ago. After leaving Krissa and Derek’s place, Nate had driven himself to a motel in Ventura where he’d spent a miserable couple of days, almost out of his mind with everything that had happened. Then he’d managed to get his shit together and drive home to see his parents. He’d spent a few weeks there, told them most of what had happened—his relationship with Krissa too confusing and emotionally raw to talk about—and had reconnected with his brothers.

He’d been shocked to find himself confiding in Rich what had occurred with Derek and Krissa. It had been a relief to share it with someone, to acknowledge the fucked-up mess he’d made of things and the painful feelings inside him. Then he’d hit the road again, back to business, but this time with frequent calls and a couple of quick trips home to his family.

“I ran into someone the other day and had an interesting conversation,” Rich told him.

“Yeah?” Nate leaned back into the thick cushion of the rattan chair on the terrace of his hotel.

“Yeah. A guy from Santa Barbara who knows Derek.”

Nate’s gut clenched. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Anyway, he told me Derek and Krissa split up.”

Nate slowly sat up straight. “Split up?”

“Yeah. They’re done. He didn’t know details, not that I wanted to ask much, but…I thought you might want to know that.”

Nate rubbed his face. “Uh…yeah. Wow.”

“I’ll let you go. When are you coming home next?”

“I…don’t know.” He couldn’t think, couldn’t remember his plans. “I’ll call you.”

“Sure thing. Let me know if you need anything.”

Silence. Nate studied the bright floral print of the cushions on the chairs.

“Nate?”

“Yeah?”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. Great. Thanks, Rich.”

He snapped his phone shut and dropped it onto the rattan and glass table with a clatter. He pressed the cold, wet glass of beer to his forehead. They’d split up? What the hell? What had happened?

Nate had had a lot of time to think about things over the last few months. He’d learned a lot about himself. The enormous guilt he’d carried about falling in love with another man’s wife—his best friend’s wife—had not been made any lighter by the revelation that Derek had already betrayed Nate with his wife. Two wrongs did not make a right.

But admitting and accepting his own imperfections helped him accept Lauren’s cheating, her senseless death, and to deal with the fact that the baby she’d carried had been his.

Damn Rich for calling and telling him that. His stomach cramped and his heart constricted with worry about Krissa, because now he couldn’t stop thinking about her, all night and all the next day. Ah, who was he kidding? He hadn’t stopped thinking about her since he’d left Santa Barbara. Not a day had gone by that he hadn’t remembered her sweet smile, her sparkling green eyes, the touch of her hands. He ached with missing her, even now, and had begun to wonder how long it would take to get over her. Now, thoughts of Krissa alone, without Derek, obsessed him, occupied every corner of his mind. When he found himself staring blankly through the lens of his camera, not even seeing the subject of the image he was attempting to capture, he knew what he had to do.

Chapter Thirty-Three

With only one bedroom in the apartment there was no nursery to decorate, as she would have had in the house. But that was okay. Krissa kind of liked the idea of the baby sharing a room with her, especially at first. And she’d start looking for another place as soon as she could afford it. Maybe she could even find a little house.

Her parents had been amazingly supportive and generous. Her small bedroom now held a crib, outfitted in lime green and yellow. Her mother had shopped for baby necessities with a strange pleasure, considering how she apparently didn’t want any grandchildren. Krissa was now stocked up on diapers, onesies, tiny socks that she held up and marveled at. Surely babies couldn’t be that small?

Then she pressed a hand to her growing belly. On the other hand, she hoped the baby was that small, because the idea of the baby coming out was starting to scare her.

She put the socks back in the dresser drawer and wandered into her living room. The Christmas tree sparkled at her with white lights and decorations. Another gift from her parents. She wanted to be independent, but helping her seemed to give them so much pleasure. A Christmas tree wasn’t a necessity, but it made it that much nicer.

Alone at Christmas.

It didn’t scare her as much as it once might have. She sat down in the rocking chair, another gift, and placed her hands on her tummy. She felt a kick first to her hand, then inside against her bladder. She winced, thought about going to the bathroom, then decided she didn’t really need to. Those kicks to the bladder could trick you.

She slowly rocked, the rhythmic motion soothing, the lights of the tree hypnotizing. Outside, rain drizzled down in the darkness, running in rivulets down the windows. In the four months she’d been on her own, she’d settled into herself. Many of the stronger emotions that had tormented her had faded—the sense of betrayal, the anger, the guilt, the confusion.

What hadn’t faded was the intense feeling of missing Nate, of yearning for him, needing to talk to him, to share with him what she’d learned, and especially to share with him the joy of the baby they’d created together. But four months out of a lifetime wasn’t long and given enough time, she’d get past that too.

After Christmas she was going to have to ask Derek if he knew how to reach Nate. If he didn’t, she’d have to track down his parents in L.A. That was going to be weird. But she wouldn’t have to tell them why—although they’d find out eventually.

She thought about Nate all the time. About how he must have felt when he’d found out what Derek had done. Why he’d looked so obliterated the day he’d left. How he’d never dealt with Lauren’s death or betrayal, had just closed himself off to everyone who cared about him.

She hoped he’d reconciled with his parents. After that breakfast in L.A., she’d seen him relax and open up to them. Maybe that’s where he’d gone when he left.

Maybe he’d been traveling the world, taking beautiful pictures. One day she’d Googled him, but couldn’t find anything recent about him.

She rose from the chair, her center of gravity a little different now. She’d have a bath, then time for her and baby to go to bed.

She filled the bathtub with steaming water—but not too hot because she’d read that wasn’t good for the baby—and slipped into it blissfully. Steam curled around her face. She lay her head back on the bath pillow and took a long, slow breath, letting the warmth of the water and the scent of the peach bath oil she’d added relax her.

She’d almost drifted off to sleep, which was not a good thing, when a pounding on her door jarred her to wakefulness. What the hell?

She’d ignore it. Maybe one of the neighbors checking to make sure she wasn’t lonely. They invited her to join them all the time, and sometimes she did, but she didn’t fit in with the crowd of young partiers.

Another burst of knocking. She huffed out a breath. Jeez. She was trying to relax here.

At the third knock, she heaved herself out of the water, grabbed her terry robe and fought to get it on over damp skin. She’d clipped her hair up and little tendrils curled around her face.

She stomped to the door, annoyed at the interruption, and put her eye to the peephole. She drew back sharply. She blinked. She couldn’t have seen right. She looked again.

Nate.

He stood outside her door, scowling at the peephole as if he knew she was there, as if he thought she’d been there the whole time not answering her door. Rain glistened in his shaggy brown hair and on the shoulders of the black jacket he wore.

Her tummy did a little flip and adrenaline raced through her, causing her heart to speed up. Her fingers went to the lock of the door, and she hesitated. Why was he here? Did he know? This wasn’t exactly a good way for him to find out. Oh dear God.

She fumbled the door open with shaky fingers.

His eyes snapped to hers in the opening of the door. She kept it mostly closed, peeked out through the opening. “Nate.”

Nate studied the pretty face that appeared in the opening of the door. Cheeks flushed and glowing, dark hair curling around her face, she apparently had been having a shower or something.

“I came at a bad time,” he murmured.

“Um…” She bit her lip, looking adorably uncertain. She stayed behind the door. He could see she wore a robe, thick pink fabric bunched at her throat, covering her completely—so why was she hiding?

“I’m just surprised to see you,” she said.

“Yeah.” Hell, he was surprised, too.

“What are you doing here?”

He glanced behind him. “Uh…do we want to discuss this in the hall?”

Her eyes closed briefly. “No. Of course not.” She looked almost…afraid. Was she afraid of him? “Come in.” She stood back and pulled the door open. He walked in, looked around him at her apartment.

The only light in the small room came from the Christmas tree sparkling in the corner. It illuminated the leather couch, which he recognized from their house, and a rocking chair he didn’t recognize. The place was nice, just…bare. And small. A far cry from the huge five-bedroom house on the beach she and Derek had occupied. Something poked at his heart to see her living like this.

He turned, Krissa still behind him. She gave him her back as she closed the door, all bundled up in that butt-ugly robe. Nah, nothing Krissa wore could be ugly. He’d just rather see her in…less.

She slowly turned to face him, adjusted the belt at her waist.

“Your eyes?”

“Huh?” His gaze roved over her beautiful face.

“Are your eyes okay now?”

“Oh. Yeah. Fine. Back to normal.”

“I’m so glad.”

He was so fascinated with her face, her sparkly green eyes, that lush mouth, he didn’t at first notice that her hands were at a waist that was no longer slim.

A frown tugged his brows together. His breath left him all at once and his head went empty. He took a stiff step toward her. “Krissa?”

Her eyes were huge in her small face. Her teeth nibbled her bottom lip, her fingers toyed with the robe. His eyes went again to her stomach and he moved closer, put out a hand. Hell. Could she be…?

He didn’t know what to make of it. Didn’t know what to think. Couldn’t process it all. He laid his hand on her belly, rounded and hard under the soft robe. He lifted his eyes to hers with a question.

“Yes.”

At her whispered word, he looked down again, put both hands on her waist, or rather where her waist used to be. “Oh God.”

Was this his baby?

He’d only just found out she and Derek had split up. He tried to piece it all together. She’d left Derek when she was pregnant? Had they found another donor? But if he was the father, why hadn’t they told him?

Mind reeling with a million questions, he swallowed hard.

“Krissa?” God, she was going to think he’d lost the ability to speak. And, apparently, he had.

“Yes,” she said again, as if reading his mind. “It’s our baby, Nate.”

His knees went weak, and without fighting it, he sank to the floor. Kneeling before her, he pressed his face to her belly, wrapped his arms around her. His chest so tight he could hardly breath, heart pounding, he fought back the tears that stung his eyes. Jesus. He felt her hands in his hair, gentle, tentative fingers stroking through it. All he could do was hold her like that, breathe in the scent of her…warm peaches and damp skin.

“In a few minutes,” he choked out, voice muffed in her robe, “we’re going to have a really big fight. I’m just telling you that so you’re ready. So you won’t run away.”

She snorted out a little laugh, fingers tightening on his head. Then she pushed him away. “Fine,” she said. “You wanna fight? You wanna go? Come on.”

He caught her sparkling, laughing gaze and everything inside him softened and warmed. He let out a long breath.

He climbed to his feet, took her hands in his. “Are you okay?” He searched her eyes. “The baby…everything’s okay?

She nodded. “Everything’s fine.”

“Good.” He focused on breathing, chest still tight.

“So what are you doing here?” She repeated the question she’d asked when he’d been standing in the hall.

“Ah…looking for you.” He shook his head. “Jesus. What a dumb question.”

“So I’m dumb?” She gave him a look, that look he loved, chin down, looking at him up though her eyelashes. Emotion swelled in him almost unbearably. He swallowed.

He smiled slowly. “No. I didn’t say that. Can we sit down?”

“Yes, please. I’d like to sit before I fall down.”

“Oh, bunny. Come on, sit.” He led to her to the couch, tenderness overriding his anger and confusion.

“I got a call from my brother Rich a week ago. He said he ran into a guy he knows, who knows Derek, who told him you two had split up.”

She nodded.

“When did that happen, Krissa? Why?”

“It happened the day you left.”

He felt like someone had just punched him in the gut. “Huh?”

“The day you left…Derek went out and met up with his ‘girlfriend’,” she made air quotes with her fingers. “Or whoever she is. He’d cheated on me with her before, apparently. Some agent who works for him. I was out and I saw them together. I waited up for him and asked him who she was.”

“Oh Christ.” He stared at her, reached for her hands, closed her small fingers in his. “I’m sorry, Krissa.”

“He told me everything, Nate. He told me about him and Lauren.”

“Oh.” He closed his eyes. “Fuck.”

“Yeah. I can’t believe they did that.”

“Neither could I.”

“You must have been devastated.”

He opened his eyes and met hers. “I already knew she’d been screwing around. Finding out who it was with was just…well, yeah, I was pissed.”

“Me, too.”

“So…when you found out, you left him?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“Call you where? I didn’t know where you went. I didn’t even know your cell phone number. And I thought you wanted to leave, wanted to get away from us. I wasn’t going to beg you to come back.”

“But…the baby.” He almost growled. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me about that?”

“Is this when we have the fight?”

He stared at her, then burst out laughing. “Damn right. I’m pissed about that.”

“You’re laughing.”

“Christ, you make me laugh.” He shook his head, tugged her closer. “But I am mad about that, Krissa. You should have told me.”

“I found out I was pregnant over six weeks later. I kind of forgot about keeping track of things, with staying with Cam and then finding my own place. I knew I had to let you know. I was planning to track you down after Christmas.”

“So you were going to tell me?”

“Yes, of course. You have to know.” She touched her fingertips to his cheek. “I just didn’t want to make any demands on you. The whole idea was that you would just…”

“Donate my sperm.”

“Yes.”

He pressed his lips together.

“And that stays the same,” she assured him. “I don’t expect anything from you.”

A hot knife stabbed into his heart. When he’d agreed to donate his sperm he’d thought he could do it. He’d thought it would mean nothing to him, that it wouldn’t really be his child. Even when he and Krissa had had sex trying to conceive, he’d kept telling himself that. He’d been kidding himself, though. Even if he hadn’t wanted to admit it at the time…now, faced with Krissa, pregnant with his child, the reality was much different.

“Shit,” he muttered and fell back against the couch.

Chapter Thirty-Four

“What’s wrong? You’re sorry you did this, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m not sorry. It was a crazy, fucked up plan that ended up going way wrong, but…God, Krissa.” He rubbed his face, not sure what to say, how much to tell her.

“You still haven’t really told me why you came.”

She watched him quietly, waiting.

“I…did tell you. I just heard you and Derek split up.”

“Yeah. But why did you come?”

She was pushing him. Amazing. “I’m not sure, actually. I wanted to make sure you were okay, I guess.”

“That’s it?”

He stared at her, shaking inside. “No, that’s not it. I had to see you Krissa. Christ, I’ve missed you.”

“Oh.” The word was a breath. “I missed you too.”

Their gazes connected and held for a long, stretched out moment. “I had to see you, Krissa. I was worried about you, and I missed you and…”

She waited.

“I wanted to tell you.”

A frown tugged her brows down.

“About Derek and Lauren. When I found out that night. I wanted to tell you. I wanted you to know what he’d done, that he was a goddamn dirtbag. I wanted you to hate him. I wanted you to leave him.”

She stared at him, wide-eyed, and blinked.

“But I couldn’t.” He closed his eyes briefly. “I couldn’t do it. You were married to him. You loved the guy.” The words stuck in his tight throat. “So I left. If I’d told you that, I would have been destroying your marriage.”

“You wouldn’t have destroyed my marriage. Derek did that.”

They looked into each other’s eyes, a look full of tortured emotion and questions. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I just couldn’t do it. I thought you loved him. But I…”

She waited. He swallowed hard. “I loved you too.”

“Oh.” Her eyes grew glossy. “Oh, Nate.” Her mouth trembled and she put a hand to his cheek. He closed his eyes. It was okay if she didn’t love him back.

He swallowed past the baseball in his throat. “That’s where our whole crazy plan went wrong. I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you.”

“No. That wasn’t supposed to happen.” Her voice was a sigh. “But I fell in love with you too, Nate.”

He opened his eyes, uncertain of what he’d heard.

“I knew I loved you, but I was so confused. I was married and I loved my husband. I thought I loved both of you. But now I know my feelings for Derek had changed.” She blinked at him, mouth quivering. “I can’t tell you how much I resented him for how he judged me all those years, how he blamed me for things that weren’t even my fault, how he blamed me for his stupid mistakes. Being apart from you all these months, thinking about you all the time…I missed you so much. I thought I’d get over you, eventually. Or maybe not.” She smiled crookedly.

“It was a helluva mess.”

“Yes.”

“It’s just you and me now.”

“Yes.”

His eyes dropped to her stomach. “And junior.”

She laughed. “Yes.”

“I want to see you, Krissa.”

She bit her lip, gave a short nod, let him tug apart the sides of the robe, exposing the inner curves of her breasts. He undid the belt and drew it to each side, then parted the robe and pushed it away. He gazed down at her body.

She looked up at him with anxious eyes. He trailed a finger over the curve of a breast that was fuller, but still perfect. He stroked the gentle swell of her stomach, his eyes devouring the sight of her lush femininity. Everywhere else she looked the same—smooth golden skin, tiny freckles here and there, the patch of dark curls between her legs.

He lowered his head and pressed his lips to her rounded belly, laid his cheek there and closed his eyes. When he lifted his face, his eyes were damp.

“I love you, Krissa.”

“I love you too, Nate.” She put her arms out to him and drew her against him, her frame still slender, even in the bulky robe. Only inches separated their faces. Nate dragged his gaze away from her eyes and looked at her mouth. The plump bottom lip parted slightly from the top just so he could see the edge of her white teeth.

He heard her indrawn breath, felt the tremors of her soft body in his arms. Her scent intoxicated him, surrounded him. So close he could see each tiny, pale freckle, each eyelash as her lids drifted shut and her mouth moved closer to him.

He moved too, felt her breath whisper on his lips, felt her heart knocking against him. He saw the pulse, just as quick, beneath the fine skin of her throat.

Then their mouths met, in an agonizing, excruciatingly beautiful kiss. Her mouth was heaven, sweet and soft. He stroked inside with his tongue, and she opened for him, met his tongue with hers. He kissed her again and again, long, slow, clinging kisses, their tongues brushing as they drew apart in slow, lush licks. She moaned deep in her throat, slid her hands around his neck, pulled him closer.

He lifted her onto his lap, turned her, tipped her back against the arm rest of the couch, leaned into her. He needed to taste more of her, more of her sweet mouth. He went to touch her hair but it was all stuck up in some kind of clip thing. He felt around, figured out how to open it and released her hair. It tumbled damp and wavy around her shoulders and he threaded his hand into it, twisted it around his fingers and gave a little tug, eliciting a whimper from her that had his blood sizzling through his veins.

It thrilled him that he remembered what she liked, that she liked what he did. He drew back, just a little, to look at her face. Heat sparked, ignited and grew between them as their kisses deepened, as he cupped one breast in his hand, rubbed his thumb over the nipple. His throat ached, and his heart lurched with overwhelming emotion. He couldn’t get close enough to her, could never get enough of her.

Her tummy was definitely there. It made him cautious. He drew back, fighting for breath. “Krissa. The baby.”

She gave him a slow, sexy smile. “The baby doesn’t know what we’re doing.”

“I mean, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me.”

He kissed her again, deep, open-mouthed kisses, eating her up, trailed his fingers down the side of her neck into the opening of the robe, over her collarbone. He rubbed the top curve of her breast.

He drew back to look down at her and gazed into her eyes. The love shining there punched him like a fist in the gut, spreading warmth and relief and gratitude through him.

Without words, he helped her up from the couch, and she led him into her bedroom. His eyes took in the pretty crib in the corner. The big bed, crib and a white painted dresser occupied almost all the space in the small room. He pictured Krissa living here with the baby, the two of them sleeping in this small room so close, and his heart squeezed.

He pushed the robe off her shoulders and let it crumple on the floor at her feet. He couldn’t stop himself from touching her stomach again, fascinated with its swelling. He stroked over it, down her waist. His fingers trailed over her hips, up and around. Then while his hand rested there he felt movement—like a small spasm beneath the skin. “Oh.” He looked up at Krissa.

“Did you feel that?”

“Yeah. Holy hell.”

She smiled, put her hand over his and held it there until they felt another small bump. His heart full of wonder and awe, he struggled to breathe.

“Oh, wow. Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?”

She shook her head. “I’ve been calling it Peanut.”

He laughed. “We’ll think of something better when he or she is born.”

“Yeah.”

He kissed her mouth, softly, reverently. “It’s amazing, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” The word whispered against his mouth. She wound her arms around his neck and pressed against him. They stood like that, his hands on the sides of her tummy, their foreheads together, noses side by side, just breathing in each other. Then Krissa shifted her mouth closer to his and he took it in a long, hungry kiss.

They moved to the bed, and he laid her gently down on the simple white duvet. It puffed up around her, and she laid there, dark hair spread beneath her head, all smooth glowing skin, shiny eyes and captivating smile. He studied her as he undid the buttons of his shirt, pulling it out of his jeans as he did. His eyes wandered over the slender curve of her arms, the shadows between her legs, the way her small toes curled into the duvet, tugging something inside him as always. Then he stepped out of jeans, socks and underwear, shed his shirt. He lay down beside her, hand on her belly, elbow bent, his head propped on his hand.

Luminous green eyes turned to him.

“How should we do this?” he asked, uncertain if being on top of her was okay.

“I don’t know.” She bit her lip. “I haven’t had sex since this baby was conceived, so…I’m not sure how it works.”

He sucked in a breath. “It was that night in Los Angeles, wasn’t it?”

She nodded, watching him.

“I’m glad,” he whispered. “I’m glad it was just the two of us.”

“Me, too.”

He pressed his face between her breasts, breathed in her peachy scent, then kissed the inside curve of each full breast. When he kissed a nipple, she drew in a sharp breath. “Oh.”

He lifted his head. “Okay?”

“Mmm. My nipples are sensitive. And…”

“What?”

“They’ve been…um…leaking a little bit.”

He swallowed. He stared down at the puckered nipples, bigger, darker pink, beautiful. “Can I…”

“Yes.” Her hands went to his head. “I want you to.”

He took a nipple in his mouth and sucked, rubbed his tongue over it. She tasted so sweet and her whimpers told him she loved what he did to her. He moved to the other nipple, tasted it too, played with it with his mouth while his fingers plucked at the other, tested the weight of her breast, squeezed it gently.

“That feels so good,” she moaned, fingers sifting through his hair. Her body twitched and writhed against him. “So good.”

He drew back to study her nipples after his attention, now even redder and stiffer and he watched in fascination as tiny white droplets slowly formed on the tips. “Oh, God,” he breathed. Krissa lifted her head to look at herself.

“That’s what I mean,” she murmured.

A fist squeezed his throat and his heart thumped hard. “Do you want to be on top?”

She gazed up at him. “I don’t know. I think it’s okay if you are.”

He moved over her and she reached for his cock, long, hard and throbbing. Her hands on him felt sublime, soft yet firm, stroking him in long pulls that sent pleasure licking over his skin.

“Inside me,” she said. “Please.”

“Yeah.” He let her guide him into her, felt her wetness, then her heat surrounded the head of his cock. Hot velvet, squeezing him. A low, rough sound tore from his throat. He held his weight on his elbows and really, she wasn’t that big, he just straightened his arms a bit to hold his body higher. She parted her legs wider, and he pushed into her in. The air ripped out of his lungs.