“Steven,” she said. “Now.”
I pushed into her, slow and steady, inch by inch, filling her up until I was balls deep in her sweet body, my arms braced on either side of her ribcage. She lifted a leg and wrapped it around my back, bringing me impossibly deeper.
“Chloe,” I groaned.
She ran her hands up my arms, squeezing my biceps. “You’re trembling,” she whispered.
I couldn’t answer. All I could do was kiss her, feel her, breathe her in. I pulled out as far as she would let me, loving the way she resisted, her heel digging into my ass like she couldn’t bear the separation, and then pushed back inside.
“Is this okay?” I panted. I glanced down at her bump. “Am I hurting?—”
“Harder,” she commanded.
I pulled out again, and again she resisted, and slammed back home. My body shook as she clenched around me with a wanton moan. Every point of contact between us feels like a spark. The brush of her belly against my happy trail. Her calf against my back. The side of her breast against my thumb.
I fucked her hard, my eyes locked on her face, watching her for any sign that it was too much. But all I found was hunger for more, so that was what I gave her. Her moans pitched higher, her pussy tightened around me. Thank fuck, thank fuck, because I was so close I was in danger of needing a distraction like reciting football stats, and I didn’t want a damn thing pulling my attention from her.
Now I wasn’t the only one shaking. Her thighs vibrated and her hands moved restlessly across the bed, searching for something to hold onto. I leaned forward, still keeping my weight off her belly, so that her soft breasts ghosted against my chest.
“Hold onto me, princess,” I murmured thickly.
Chloe Adams never did a damn thing I told her, but she did this. She clung to me, pressing quick, desperate kisses to my throat, and that made me go even harder, even faster.
“Steven,” she cried, her whole body going rigid, her pussy pulsing around my cock, sending me straight over the edge with her.
I groaned into her hair as I emptied myself inside her. The relief of it…fuck. I damn near collapsed on her but had just enough sense left to twist to my side and land on the bed instead. I lay there completely limp and sated, trying to catch my breath.
Her hand flopped to my head, and she sifted her fingers through my hair.
“That,” she said softly, “was delightful.”
27
CHLOE
“Peanut butter or chocolate chip?”James asked as she piled flour, sugar, and salt—the ingredients needed for either cookie—onto the counter.
“Peanut butter,” I decided. “My doctor says I need to eat more protein. Peanut butter has more protein, right?”
James consulted the label on the jar of peanut butter. “More than chocolate chips, anyway. But probably not as much as, say, lentils.”
I made a face. “The baby doesn’t want lentils, James. The baby wants cookies.”
“Peanut butter it is,” James said.
“Good choice,” Adam said approvingly.
“Peanut butter is his favorite,” James explained. She made a shooing motion at her fiancé. “These cookies aren’t for you, cowboy. They’re for Chloe and her fetus.”
“And, um, Steven and Amy,” I mumbled. I nibbled my lip. “I can’t walk in there with freshly baked cookies and not share. That would be rude. Since he won’t even let me pay rent.”
“Hell, no.” Adam glowered. “That asshole isn’t getting my cookies.”
“They’re not your cookies,” James reiterated. “Chloe can share her cookies with whoever she wants. Even if,” she added sweetly, “that someone is a giant douche canoe.”
I opened my mouth to defend Steven, then snapped it shut, feeling guilty for even considering it. Was I really going to stand up for the man who had gotten her bucked off a horse?
Yes, my heart whispered. Or maybe it was my pussy. That was the problem with having mind-blowing sex with your best friend’s enemy. It divided your loyalties right along with your legs.
