An Officer, a Baby and a Bride

by Tracy Madison

  He tilted her face upward, so she had no choice but to stare into his eyes. They were deep and dangerous and filled with a raw, greedy type of need that stole the air clean from her lungs. A ball of heat gathered hard and fast between her legs and shot straight through her, searing her from the inside out, all but melting her with its strength.

  “Yes,” she said in answer to the unasked question simmering in his gaze. “I’m sure.”

  Grasping one of his hands, she led him to her bedroom. Without speaking, because words were so not necessary, she pulled his shirt off and ran her hands over his bare chest. Wherever she touched, muscles rippled and skin warmed. Her fingers drifted downward, following the silky line of slightly curly black hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of his jeans.

  Eagerly and without an ounce of self-consciousness, she unclasped his jeans. One good yank edged them lower. She sucked in a breath and held it, enjoying the sight—the feel—of Seth. She swallowed hard and whispered featherlight strokes along his flat, firm stomach, creating a path to the mouthwatering, truly delicious angles of his hip bones.

  He was pure, rugged masculinity. He was a wild, untamed land that made her heart pound and her blood hot and her soul hunger. She craved him in a primitive, intrinsic way that she didn’t—or couldn’t—completely comprehend.

  But at the moment, she wasn’t particularly concerned with comprehending anything. At the moment, the need she felt for Seth was all that mattered, all that drove her. Fully unzipping his jeans, she dragged them the rest of the way down. She hadn’t meant for his boxers to follow the denim, but they did, and she figured that was fine. She’d have gotten to those soon enough.

  “Becca,” Seth whispered, his voice a tangle of desire and want, questions and concern.

  Scraping his jaw with a flurry of small kisses, she said, “I know what I want. This won’t hurt the baby. Sex is allowed.” With a sigh borne of anticipation, she wrapped her hand around the length, the hardness of him. “And this seems to state that you know what you want, as well.”

  “I know exactly what I want,” he said, his voice a complex symphony of rough and hard and sweet and tender. Again, he cupped her cheeks and lifted her face toward his. “I want you, Becca. And more. Maybe more than what you’re willing to give.”

  She knew what he meant. Of course, she knew. “Right now, I want us to make love to each other. I want to feel you inside of me.”

  “And what will you want after?”

  The frantic beat of her heart slowed, but her desire for Seth remained strong, unrelenting. Closing her eyes, she drew in a breath. “There’s a connection here, between us. You were right about that. I…don’t know if I’ll be able to move beyond my fears. So if you’re looking for forever, I can’t promise you that.”

  “I don’t want a promise. All I want is for you to try.” His thumb brushed along the soft curve of her lips. “For you to give us an honest chance. Can you do that?”

  The thought of that—of simply trying—seemed terrifying. He might as well have asked her to take a flying leap out of an airplane with the assurance he’d catch her before she hit the ground. But what she felt for Seth was real. Had been real all along, which was why she ran from him to begin with. Truthfully, she’d already been thinking about running before her pregnancy test came back positive. Real scared her. Real meant…real.

  Naturally, she meant to say no. She even meant to explain her reasons why. Because honestly, nothing had changed. But when she opened her eyes, she felt her chin dip in a small, tentative nod. And when she spoke, she heard herself saying, “I can do that. I can try. I will try.”

  It was her shirt that was being lifted up and off, then. Her pants that were tugged and pulled until they’d joined his in a pile on the floor. It was his hands that touched and caressed and made her shiver in delight, and his lips that brought tiny moans tumbling from her throat as they made their way over her neck, her shoulders, her breasts. The light glide of his fingers down her spine to the small of her back sent a long series of shuddering anticipation through her body.

  With the same ease he’d shown last night, Seth lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed. She wasn’t embarrassed to admit that his strength, his ability to pick her up as if she weighed no more than what a loaf of bread might, made her feel incredibly, unbelievably female.

  It also made her want him that much more.

  Seth straddled her lower body with his. Leaning over, he kissed between her sensitive breasts and down to her swollen stomach, eliciting a trail of fire wherever his hungry mouth made contact. This—being with Seth—was everything she remembered and more.

  So much more.

  Flushed from head to toe, damn-near dissolving from his focused attention, Rebecca whimpered as he branded her one kiss, one glide of his tongue at a time. Long-fingered hands continually stroked until she was sure she would die from the need pumping through her.

  How had she forgotten the energy, the electricity, that pulsed between them? How could she possibly have forgotten the way her body responded to his, the way his responded to hers? In that instant, she promised herself she’d never forget again. That she’d cherish what existed between them, regardless of what the future held, for the rest of her life.

  Seth’s lips came back to hers, and she stopped thinking. Sinking into the sensations, she let his mouth devour hers. He kissed her as if he were starving and she were his sustenance. He tasted her as if she were ambrosia and he couldn’t get enough, would never get enough. And when he lifted his eyes to hers, he looked at her as if she were the only woman in the world.

  Gathering her close, so they were both sitting with their legs and arms wrapped around each other, he kissed her again. Slowly. Reverently. Possessively. One hand lifted her hair, the other skimmed and danced down her back, stopping in the shallow depression at the base. There, he slid his fingers under her bottom and pushed her forward until she felt the proof of his need, his desire, the hard length of his erection throbbing against her inner thigh.

  And that, too, she basked in. That, too, made her feel powerful and alive, and so very feminine. She raised her hands to his shoulders and gave them a solid shove. They rolled until he was on his back and she was straddling him. She thought of the box of condoms sitting in her bedside table’s drawer, almost reached over to get them, but decided they didn’t need them. Seth would never put her at risk. She knew that to the core of her being, just as she knew the sky was blue and the grass was green. And if he had concerns, he would say so.

  She slid herself down his body, shifted and…almost lost her balance. Embarrassment filtered into her desire. The last time she had Seth in her bed, she’d been slender and lithe and sexy. Now, as she stared at her enormous stomach, she felt awkward. And silly. And about as far away from sexy as a woman can get.

  Before she could say these words, though, Seth teased her thighs with his fingertips, leaving goose bumps in their wake. Their gazes met and he winked, donned a lazy, seductive smile that seemed to state “do me, baby,” and the hot flash of Rebecca’s desire returned.

  He wanted her. He found her sexy. What else mattered?

  Seth grasped her hips. She settled herself on top of him, and the last bit of her awkwardness faded into nothing. With a cautious, silky sort of slide, he entered her, filling her in one gentle, languorous thrust. Her head fell back and her eyes half closed. This was delicious. This was Seth inside her. And it felt so right. So amazingly right.

  He moved slowly, keeping their rhythm soft and languid with his hands firmly on her hips, guiding her…loving her. But she wanted more. She wanted all of him.

  And dear God, she wanted all of him now.

  Pressing her hips down harder, to take him in completely, she gasped in shock as her body tensed. She panted a breath, and then another, waiting for the intensity to subside, waiting for
her body to stretch around him. But it was too much, too snug, too deep this far along in her pregnancy, and while not exactly painful, the feeling wasn’t wholly comfortable, either.

  As if Seth had read her mind, her expression, he lifted her hips and eased them to their sides, so they were once again facing each other. After a slight repositioning of their legs, hands and bodies, he entered her in the same careful slide as before. Her body opened and accepted him, tightened around him, and pulled him in deeper with each push of their hips.

  Yes. This was glorious. This was…perfection.

  His gorgeous, sinful eyes stayed on her, alert for any sign of distress or discomfort, keeping their pace slow and sensuous. And so very intimate. Their bodies moved as one and their breaths came faster. Pleasure, warm and sweet and satisfying, bounced from cell to cell and muscle to muscle, spreading through Rebecca like waves lapping at the shoreline, each one stronger than the last, each one pulling her closer to climax.

  Seth captured her hands with his and held them tight. Their hips met again, over and over and over, and the waves of pleasure grew in speed and intensity. She let herself fall into the storm, lost in the sensations, lost in the smoldering depths of Seth’s eyes. He swallowed and a groan spilled from his luscious mouth, her lips parted in a moan.

  Her body screamed for more, so she drove her hips against his harder. His eyelids drooped, his body tensed and stilled, and his jaw went slack as he found his release. But oh…he was beautiful to look at in this moment. That spicy, seductive smile returned to his lips. He kept their rhythm, moving inside of her, bringing her one long, sweet stroke at a time to her finish.

  Rebecca moaned again, unable to tear her vision away from his, unable to do anything but look and feel and move, when a brilliant burst of liquid power shattered through her, making her cry out Seth’s name, leaving her limp and trembling and satisfied beyond reason.

  And, as her soul drowned in the surety of Seth’s gaze, of the promises she saw there, her heart stuttered to a stop, reset itself and flickered to life in the steady beat of a woman in love.

  * * *

  Seth carefully slid to the edge of the bed, not wanting to wake Rebecca. A quick once-over showed she still slept deeply. He feasted on the sight of her. From the delectable stretch of her legs to the rose blush of her nipples to her softly fanned out hair, she was glorious in her nakedness. And sexy as hell.

  Was it weird he found a pregnant woman sexy? And beautiful? And so hot he’d take her again now if she was awake, willing and able? The thought gave him pause, as well as a dribble of concern. He’d known guys who had some out-there fetishes, and he didn’t particularly relish the idea of joining any of those “special” clubs.

  Okay, so her stomach was sort of large. Huge, really. Almost…blimplike. But seeing how Rebecca was close to eight months along, that was normal and to be expected. And looking at her stomach didn’t fill him with desire or make him hard or anything. Rather, he felt…proud. And yeah, admittedly, sappy. His baby girl was in there, growing stronger day by day.

  So that was good. That probably meant it wasn’t pregnancy that turned him on, but Rebecca and the feelings he had for her. It was her eyes, her hair, the sound of her voice and the way she looked at him while he was deep inside her. He didn’t think—no, he knew—he’d never before been so utterly connected to any other woman during sex.

  Or, hell, after sex. Because the connection hadn’t exactly faded now that she slept next to him. If anything, their bond—his love for her—had increased. Before, the thought of leaving his daughter behind had seemed impossible. Now, he couldn’t imagine leaving Rebecca behind, either. Leaving both of them might just kill him.

  Seth pulled the blanket over Rebecca’s body to keep her warm. With a heavy sigh, he grabbed his jeans and shirt. He needed to go home, shower, get fresh clothes and return before Rebecca’s appointment. A glance at the clock showed he had sufficient time, but he hated walking out the door while she slept. What if she woke before he returned?

  Nah. That wouldn’t do at all. If there was one concrete fact he knew about women it was to expect the unexpected. Whatever didn’t make sense to a man would sure as shooting make sense to a woman. His absence could raise too many red flags. She might think he left unsatisfied. Or that he took off because he got scared. He could write a note, but hell, giving Rebecca time to herself didn’t seem smart so soon after her decision to give them a shot. Seth shook his head, annoyed with himself.

  He just didn’t want to leave. Not today.

  There wasn’t any choice in the matter, then. He’d have to call someone and beg them to bring him what he needed. Phoning either of his parents was out of the question, and he didn’t care for the idea of bothering Olivia. Grady and Jace were at work.

  Dammit. That left him with one option.

  Fastening his jeans, Seth went downstairs to call the pixie. And God help him, he actually hoped she was home and willing to help. Preferably without shoveling too much grief his way.

  He made the call, said as little as possible, took a shower in the guest bathroom and put yesterday’s clothes on again. Using a lather of soap and water and a disposable razor he found under the sink, he attempted shaving. And nicked himself twice.

  Swearing, he tore off a couple of pieces of tissue and stuck them to the cuts to stop the bleeding. When that was dealt with, he opened the medicine cabinet in search of an extra toothbrush. No such luck, but he spied a bottle of mouthwash.

  He gurgled the liquid and then bent over the sink to spit it out. A stream of mouthwash trickled down, soaking the tissue stuck to his skin and burning into the cuts left by the razor.

  Seth jolted and cursed, tipped the open bottle of mouthwash in his hand, and dumped near-half of it on his wrinkled, white T-shirt. Bright green liquid spread into the fabric lightning fast, drenching it and his skin, and dripping down to the waistband of his jeans.

  He ripped off the shirt, washed off the mess, cleaned his jaw and neck for the second time and used more tissue to stop the fresh bleeding. After uselessly dabbing at the shirt with a wet washcloth, he put it back on and let out a long breath as he stared at himself in the mirror.

  Hell and damnation, he was a mess. Stupid, maybe, but he didn’t want to meet Rebecca’s doctor looking like a bum on a bad day. It shouldn’t matter. He knew it shouldn’t matter. But it did, and that meant he needed the pixie to come through.

  Twenty-five minutes later, Rebecca was still sleeping when Seth opened the door to a smirking Jocelyn. Her eyes rounded as she took in his appearance, her gaze dropping from his face to his neck to his green-splashed, damp shirt.

  “Not a word,” he warned. “Not one damn word.”

  “That’s not happening. Not when you look as if you got into a fight with…with—” she leaned in and sniffed “—a candy cane. Why, you smell like Christmas, Seth!”

  “It’s mouthwash,” he begrudgingly admitted. “The bottle…slipped.”

  “Before or after you cut yourself shaving?”

  “After.”

  “Ouch.” Jocelyn breezed by and plopped a large bag on the floor. “I’m here to save the day, but you owe me. I had to cancel my plans to help you out.”

  That almost made him feel bad. “Sorry, kid. Did you have a date or something?”

  “Yeah, with Hawaiian Tropic, a book and an extra-large glass of iced tea. If you haven’t noticed, it’s unseasonably warm out today.” She shoved her bare arm under his nose. The overpowering scent of coconut and summer assailed his senses. “Smells yummy, doesn’t it? And now it’s going to waste. So yeah, you owe me big time.”

  “For interrupting your day of sunbathing?” He moved toward the bag. “I’ll buy you a new bottle of lotion. How’s that?”

  “Not nearly enough.” Stepping in front of Seth, she sat down on the arm of a chair, and swung her leg
s in front of the bag. “What happened last night, Seth? And where’s my sister?”

  “Rebecca is napping.” Dealing with Jocelyn always left him frustrated and amused. It was an odd combination. “And nothing happened last night. I slept on the couch.”

  “Uh-huh. Sure you did.” She gave him a long look. “Ah. I see. What happened today, then? After you woke up on the couch?”

  His neck started to itch. “Why don’t you give me the bag and you can get back to your sunbathing? Lots of good hours of ‘unseasonably warm’ sun left out there.”

  “You’re embarrassed.”

  “Am not.” Good God, when had he become a five-year-old again?

  “Are too.”

  “Whatever happened—and I’m not saying anything did—is none of your business.”

  “Hmm.” Jocelyn stared at him unblinking. He returned her stare, but he might have blinked once. Or twice. One of her brows shot up in amusement. With an impish expression, she said, “When you called, I was reading a book.”

  “You mentioned that.” When the pixie continued to stare at him, he asked, “What book?”

  “A romance. And I was just getting to the good part.” Jocelyn’s smirk returned, wider this time. “See, the heroine was dumped by the only guy she’s ever had sex with. So she goes out to find a hottie to change that. And wouldn’t ya know, she bumps into an excellent hottie right off the bat. Except the hottie has just made a bet with his friends that he can go a month without sex, but she doesn’t know this, so she has to work real hard to get him into bed.” Jocelyn pointed an accusing finger at Seth. “And you called at the exact moment she had her mouth on his—”

  “Stop!” In no way did Seth want her to finish that sentence. “I…ah…can figure out the rest. But thanks for the book report.”