“I don’t mind. I want you here.”
And though it made me vulnerable to admit that, to say it out loud, maybe it was time for me to allow myself to be vulnerable with this man. He’d screwed up in a big way, but he’d also proved himself again and again to be nothing like how I had originally perceived him.
He was Mo—too young, too famous, too damn handsome. But I’d fallen for him anyway. Maybe it was his little girl kicking in my belly urging me toward him, but I didn’t think so. He’d won me over by being there, again and again.
“I like when you say that.” His words tickled the skin beneath my ear. “Like when you admit you want me. Makes me feel like I’m not in this alone.”
My fingers raked through his Superman hair. “You’re not, Mo. It took me a while, but I’m here too.”
His warm lips dragged from my jaw to my shoulder, turning my bones to liquid. Tired and emotional, I wasn’t in the mood for sex, but he could touch me like that forever if he wanted.
We went inside my miniature home, Mo touching me, me rubbing myself against him like a needy cat—and yes, practically purring. His erection brushed my belly, but he didn’t grind against me. His mouth stayed on my skin, dragging, sliding, killing me softly as we stumbled toward my bed.
“Please don’t be mad,” I murmured.
He slowly brought his head up, his eyes glazed. “Are you kicking me out after all?”
“What? No. I wouldn’t do that.” My hand laid on his chest. “No, what you’re doing feels so damn good, and you’re hard, but I don’t—”
“Hey.” He cupped my face. “We had sex three times today. I’m good with just going to sleep. And my dick? Well, it’s gonna be hard around you. You’re gorgeous, and you smell fucking amazing, but I can control myself.”
“You smell good too. I’m a little obsessed with your smell.” On my tiptoes, I ran my nose along his collarbone. “Yeah, that’s good stuff.”
He laughed. “What do I smell like?”
My cheeks went hot. Was this where I got super vulnerable and confessed everything? I guess it was.
“Like gingersnaps.”
His head quirked, bemused. “I smell like your favorite cookie?”
“Mo…” I covered my heated cheeks with my hands. How was I suddenly shy around him? I’d never been shy a day in my life. But then, I’d never felt this way about anyone else.
Understanding dawned on his face in increments. Like a curtain, it lifted his features, starting with the corners of his mouth, to his cheeks, eyebrows, and then forehead. He open-mouth laughed, shaking his head.
“You eat them because they remind you of me? Am I making a flying leap to that conclusion, or is that what you’re telling me?”
Dropping my face to his chest, I nodded. “I’m dying right now.”
“Why?” He tugged on my ponytail. “Is it so hard to admit you like something about me?”
“Mmhmm.” My voice was muffled by his solid chest. “I don’t like being weak.”
He sighed. “Baby, there’s nothing weak about owning your feelings. Even if it means you’re so obsessed with me, you eat my essence in cookie form.”
Snorting, I slapped his chest. “Shut up.”
“Look at me, Mic.” He tugged my ponytail a little bit harder, until I tipped my head back. “Do you know how good I’m feeling right now? I love that I’m on your mind that way. You’re on my mind all the time. I’m so fucking into you, and knowing you feel a fraction of that…god, it’s like a gift.”
“I’m really into you too.” Taking a deep breath, I got brave. “When I left our hotel room in Vegas, I went straight to the pharmacy and bought two things. Plan B and gingersnaps. Only one of those things stuck with me, but I’m pretty damn pleased with that outcome.”
He smoothed his hand over my bump and brushed a kiss over my lips. “Me too. So damn pleased. Never be embarrassed to tell me how you feel, baby. ’Cause I can guarantee I’ve been feeling the same thing for months.” A gentle slap to my ass, then he slid my T-shirt over my head. “Let’s get you tucked in.”
We shuffled around each other, slipping into pajamas, brushing teeth, washing faces, stealing glances and sly grins. My belly was a cave full of bats by the time we were in bed together and his palm had settled in its spot.
“Hey.” His low, sleepy-sexy voice pulled my eyelids up.
“Hey, yourself.”