“You could always come to the ranch and thank Kate in person,” he says.
I can’t tell if dinner is crossing a line in our casual arrangement. I suppose it’s fine since it’s not exactly the same as meeting his family—I already know them. I’m already friends with Denny, and I’m friendly enough with Kate and Cecily.
“Yeah… yeah, we could do that.” It would be nice to talk with Kate some more, considering everything she told me at the winter fair went in one ear and out the other. Blair’s obsessed with texting me pregnancy information, including a weekly announcement of how big the baby is, but she’s never experienced it firsthand. “I’d love to hang out with Kate so she can give me tips. By the way, did you know she’s bigger than a Furby now?”
That was Blair’s disturbing twenty-three week comparison I’ve been forgetting to tell Chase about.
His nose wrinkles, face twisting with mock disgust. “The baby or Kate?”
I rap my fingers across his firm bicep. “Stop. You know who I meant.”
“Those things were creepy. Don’t ever use the word Furby when describing our perfect daughter again.” While his tone is serious and scolding, there’s tension tugging the corner of his lip.
“Well, the poor girl has you for a father so…” I shrug, dodging his fingers as he reaches to pinch my side. “I’ll love her even if she’s born looking like you, though.”
“Bullshit. I’m a pretty boy, and you know it.”
Okay, fine. I won’t actually be the slightest bit mad if our baby looks like him. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll be irritated about doing all this work to create his carbon copy. But a sweet baby girl with blue eyes and bright-red hair? That’s the most adorable thing I can imagine.
“The prettiest boy.”
I grab the pregnancy pillow and lug it down the hallway to my room. Collapsing onto the bed, my body turns into jelly thanks to the luxurious, supportive, greatest love of my life. Even with my stomach still relatively small, it’s a game changer to take the weight off my back for a moment. There’s a chance I may never move. “Oh, I think I’m in love with Kate. This is so comfy. You’re excused now—I don’t need you anymore.”
“I refuse to be replaced by a dildo and a pillow.”
“Don’t forget take-out.” I roll my lips, narrowing my eyes at him. “Yeah, I think I could probably replace you with those three things.”
In a swift movement, Chase is hovering over me on the bed. Without hesitation, his hands slip under my shirt to tease my nipples, sending a hot jolt of pleasure radiating through my breasts. He’s shimmying my shirt over my head, and I don’t bother stopping him. It’s hard to feel self-conscious when he constantly looks at me like he’s starved for my body.
Sucking my nipple between his teeth, his tongue flits across the hardening bud.
“Can your vibrator or pillow do that?”
“I can probably get my boob in my own mouth now—these things are getting massive. What else you got? Hurry, my interest in you sticking around is expiring.” I tap an imaginary watch on my wrist.
His eyes darken, fingertips tracing the curves of my breasts. “You’re a fucking brat.”
He yanks my yoga pants off, suffocating himself between my legs. Nudging my underwear to the side, he tests how sensitive I am by blowing cool air on my clit.
Fuck him—that’s how sensitive it is.
I’m inclined to smack him, instead groaning and flexing my legs in response. Then his tongue makes sharp contact, and I cry out.
“Still want to trade me for the toy?”
I gulp, trying to hide how turned on I am. “I mean… maybe. It doesn’t talk as much.”
“Get it then. Let’s see which one you like better.” His head motions toward the nightstand. When I don’t immediately move, he does, pulling open the drawer and reaching for the rabbit and a bottle of lube. “Jesus, how many toys do you have in here?”
My face grows instantly warm. “Oh, um… well… they all do different things.”
With a smirk, he shakes his head in disbelief. “I can’t wait to see you use all of them. Fuck, all this time I had no idea how dirty of a girl you really are.”
“What would you have done if you’d known?” I raise an eyebrow. There’s not a chance in hell I would’ve told him, or anybody, about my toy collection. I don’t have a drawer full because I’m a sex fiend or anything—it’s simply easy to amass a stockpile when you’re single and unwilling to date for most of your twenties.
“I would’ve convinced you to let me fuck you years ago. Now, show me what you like. How do you want to be fucked, Cass?”
I gulp, letting my knees fall apart so I’m spread wide before him, and run my fingers up my pussy. Slick. Soaked. Aside from one short swipe of his tongue, he hasn’t even touched me. I grab the lube from him and toss it down on the bedspread. “Um… I don’t think we’ll need that.”
