Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
I sigh. “Want to go home? Now? With me? To my bed?”
He nods. “Yes. Yes, I do.”
Chapter Eighteen
BLUE
Once I’ve helped Bea into the passenger’s seat, I jog around the front of my truck, not bothering to play it cool.
Fuck cool. I’ve never been good at “cool.”
I don’t want to be cool.
I just want her, and she wants me.
She loves me. Beatrice Nix loves me. She said it out loud, those three words a part of me was certain I’d never hear from anyone, let alone someone like her, this talented, brave, sexy-as-fuck woman.
Tonight, she chose me, and I’m going to make sure she never regrets it.
“What are you thinking?” she whispers as I wheel the truck around, heading back across town.
“About you,” I say without missing a beat. “How talented and sexy you are, and how much I need to be inside you.”
She leans across the cab, resting her hand on my thigh as she purrs, “See? I tried to tell Checkers that not everyone thinks pregnant bodies are gross and scary.”
I exhale a ragged breath. “Fuck no. Your pregnant body makes me so hard I can barely sleep most nights.”
“I love how hard you get for me,” she whispers, pressing a kiss to my cheek as her palm skims higher.
I groan, my jaw spasming as she begins to stroke me through my jeans. “You’re going to make me have an accident, woman,” I rumble, fingers tightening on the wheel.
“Never.” She trails kisses down my neck as her touch grows firmer, bolder. “You’re an excellent driver. I always feel safe when you’re driving.”
I take the turn onto the next street, sweat breaking out on my upper lip when she dives deep enough to cup my swollen balls.
I fight a groan. “Should I pull over?”
“No. We can’t.” She rolls her fingers, sending longing throbbing through my core. “I’m too pregnant to have sex in a pickup truck.” She kisses my cheek again, her lips curving against my overheated skin as she murmurs, “And I hear the New Orleans police department frowns on people banging on the side of the road.”
She’s right. I drive faster, not fast enough to draw the attention of any of the NOPD, but close.
Still, by the time I park the truck at her place, I’m so hard it’s a structural problem. I shuffle stiffly past the reception desk, my gym bag held strategically at hip level to hide my shame from Clark, while Beatrice chats him up about what he did on his day off, fighting a case of the giggles.
Badly.
“Evil. You’re evil,” I mutter as she loses it in the elevator, laughing until she snorts. “And all this time, I thought you were a kind, gentle woman.”
“Sorry. I’m so sorry.” She hooks her arm through mine, beaming up at me with a smile so beautiful I can’t even pretend to be mad at her. “I’m just happy. And horny. You have no idea how excited I am to get you naked.”
“I might have some idea,” I say, reaching down to squeeze her ass through her dress. “Been dreaming about you coming on my mouth every night.”
“Really?”
“Really. Usually, while we’re at the beach.”
Her gaze darkens as she whispers, “You’re eating my cake by the ocean in your dreams?”
“Is that what that song’s about?”
“Pretty sure it is. And definitely sure we need to make that dream come true. As soon as humanly possible.” The elevator doors glide open. She’s through them a second later, hustling down the hallway with an impressive amount of speed for a woman in a boot.
“Careful. Your foot,” I warn softly, not wanting to bother the neighbors.
Or to wake Clover if she’s asleep. I’m happy to help Clover for as long as it takes for her to heal. I don’t resent the labor of helping a friend for a single second. It’s an honor to be trusted and needed, but right now…
Well, I wouldn’t be upset if she were already all tucked in for the night.
I need to be alone with Beatrice with a closed door between us and the world. I need it so badly, I’m honestly not sure I’ll be able to talk my hard-on down to a respectable level before I have to help Clover to the bathroom or back into bed.
I guess I’ll just have to dig my biggest sweater out of my suitcase, hunch forward, and hope she’s too tired to notice that I’m suffering a crisis of self-control.
Thankfully, however, it turns out the universe has Clover’s back.
And mine.
As we step inside, we’re greeted by a note taped to the mirror above the entry table—
Dear Blue and Bea,
Ihope you guys had a great dinner!
I’ve gone to my friend Cristina’s place for a few days. Her husband left on his deployment yesterday, and she’s so sad about it that the company of a full-grown human who needs help going to the bathroom sounded like a good idea to her.