Aside from a low grunt, he ignores me and frowns down at what he’s doing, his utter concentration so single-minded, something awfully close to jealousy rears its silly head.
Oh my God. What is wrong with me? Am I truly jealous that he’s paying attention to my hand and not my face? What part of me would I rather he look at, pray tell?
Oh, shut up, Kit. You know exactly what part.
Crap. Crap. I need to stop this. It’s absolutely not what I meant when I decided to try for a baby. I didn’t want this complicated mess of feelings and I certainly did not want it muddling an already complex work situation.
I’m understaffed. Perpetually working to find decent people, despite good pay and benefits and great tips for the front of house.
But prices are rising and the cost of running a business has gone through the roof and then you’ve got employees coming back to try to steal from you like Keith last night, not to mention an ex who’s prowling around like the vultures squatting the huge tree in my backyard, and after a while, being the sole owner of a place like this becomes too much of a cross to bear and you wonder if having a baby’s even feasible in today’s market and?—
“Simmer down. I’m almost done.”
Simmer down?What?Is he kidding?
I open my mouth to tear him a new one when I feel the bounce of my leg. I’m grinding my teeth, too, and squirming, perched on the fridge that I don’t even recall sitting on. My muttered,Sorrygoes unnoticed, or unacknowledged. And now I feel like a child. Worked up and chastised andsmall.
I open my mouth to tell him something, like maybe I don’t want to do this whole extra-curricular project, after all, because it’s put me on edge and made me question things I don’t usually doubt. It’s also kept me from getting a good night’s sleep and—look!—now I’m cutting myself behind my bar. Because of onestupid decision, I’ve lost every ounce of cool I ever possessed and I can’t survive this way. Not with him being so close every day. Not with my body so out of my control. What about after we do it? What about then? Can I just expect all this tension to dissipate or will it get worse?
I’m worried it’s the latter. And there’s no way I can handle the latter. Not with the crisp tightness at my neck and how high my shoulders have gone. I’ll never survive this. I’ll put my back out and have to close the restaurant and then it’ll all go downhill from there.
I’ve just opened my mouth to tell him it’s off, when a firm hand sets mine down and pats my knee before he steps away.
“Done.” He doesn’t move farther before looking down at me. This close, I can’t meet his eyes so I take the coward’s route and examine the neat job he’s done on my hand. Bandage and finger protector, both tightly in place. “Be back to normal in a couple days.”
I nod, still not looking up.
“Got my tests done today.”
My few languorous parts go wild, hitting turbo-speed in a fraction of a second. “Good. Good.” I twist, intending to slide off the bar fridge and get some space between us, but he’s still too close, boxing me in up here. Getting trapped by his significant bulk sends a fresh blast of hormones through my body, so charged that it’s impossible to tell where intimidation ends and excitement begins. Or if they’re even separate at all.
“Could you move?” I ask, sounding not nearly the boss I meant to be. “Please?”
“Yeah.” He sniffs and stands there for another handful of seconds, then backs up another step.
I’m about to edge my way down and past him when he leans in again and speaks right into my ear. “Thought about you all night, Kit. The way your sweet little mouth opens when you’resurprised. The way your eyes get all dark when I’m close like this. Did you think about me?” I breathe shakily through the pause. Still and utterly lost. “You think about how it’ll feel, the two of us?”
I want to shake my head, but it would be a lie. And lying right now seems worse than anything, although I’ve got no godly notion why. Instead, I don’t reply at all. Just sit here, staring straight ahead, over his wide shoulder, at the small piece of wall I’ve been trying to decide whether to wallpaper or leave black.
I’ll be embarrassed later when I think of the way my hands tremble and my exhalations come out all choppy. I’ll be mortified when I remember the clearly visible goosebumps that take over my bare shoulders when he says, “Decided not to let myself come until I’m deep inside you, Kit.” I shut my eyes, hard, and suppress a moan. “My balls are so fucking heavy right now after the night I had, thinking about that ass of yours. So ready to blow.” Oh, God. I’m so aroused that if I squeeze my thighs just a little, I might actually orgasm and that’s not something that comes spontaneously in my experience. Or at all most of the time. “Figured I’d save it all up—every goddamn drop—for your little pussy, Kit. You good with that? It’s what you need, right?”
I nod and then, though it doesn’t even start to capture what I need in this moment, I turn and whisper into his ear: “Yes.” And then, because I’m apparently not done shocking myself, I say, “I want that.”
He lets out a breath and swallows, both sounds way too human for the man who’s gone and turned my whole life upside down. “Good.” Another exhale, this one warm against the side of my face. “I’ll have the results in three days.”
With that, he steps back, turns, and walks away, leaving me with nothing but the repetitive squeak of the kitchen door swinging in and out for its usual five beats, and a body that’s never once been this turned on.
It’s all I can do not to storm into the kitchen and tell him to forget about the test results, follow me into the office and take care of things right now, because I’m more ready than I’ve ever been.
I didn’t survive this far by letting my impulses lead me, though. And I won’t start now.
But the rest of the night’s going to be hell on my overcharged libido.
7
Jake
It’s been two days since the cut. Three since I told Kit I’d get her pregnant and it sure looks like I’ve underestimated my body’s ability to withstand the constant assault of her presence.
