Damn it.
There’s nothing like a sexy man holding a baby—your baby—to make your overactive hormones wake up and take notice. And this man is so sexy.Too sexy.
Am I allowed to want to jump my baby daddy?
Because I’m thinking that should be a pregnancy perk. Right?
I listen as he takes the steps upstairs, probably to lay her down for a nap.
Guess there’s only one way to find out.
JAMIE
When it’s real, foreplay starts with energy, not touch.
—Text from Jamie to Ashton
Carefully, I lay Kyrie in her crib and watch the way this little girl immediately scoots up into her favorite position. Knees tucked under her body. Cheek flat against the cherry blossom sheets. Her ruffle-covered bottom sticking up. She looks like a sleeping doll.
A little freckle-faced, pudgy-cheeked perfect doll.
And standing here, watching her sleep... Man, it makes my heart beat funny inside my chest.
As I step away, the delicious scent of cherries and vanilla fills my lungs, and fuck, if that doesn’t make me smile as I turn around.
There she is. The woman haunting my every waking thought and starring in my filthiest fucking fantasies. Standing in the doorway, her arms wrapped around herself, clinging to a chunkyred sweater hanging off one delicate shoulder, while short pink-ruffled shorts barely cover her perfect ass.
Such a pretty package.
One my hands crave to touch. To taste. To memorize. To fucking worship.
Walking away the last time was hard.
Walking away beforewas the dumbest thing I could have done.
But now...Nowthat I know the taste of her lips, the feel of her beneath me. Around me. I want more. I want everything. I want to take it. I want to give it.
To her.
Now . . .
“Hey.” Her voice sounds like it’s been raked over hot coals for hours. Like she hasn’t slept in days. It’s rough and raw and sexy, and so damn hesitant.
She watches me with undeniable hunger in her gold-flecked eyes as I close the distance between us. “Did you have a good morning, charmer?”
“Charmer? Really?” I cock a brow, grinning as I grab the baby monitor. “We’re sticking with that one?”
She lifts a delicate shoulder and purses her pouty lips. “It’s fitting.”
“If you say so,” I whisper, not wanting to wake the sleeping baby. Quietly, I take Ashton’s hand in mine and squeeze, guiding her down the hall. “Yeah, we had a good morning.”
I bypass her room and head for mine instead, wanting more distance between us and Kyrie, but come up short as I stop at the door. “I’ve never had a woman in here before,” I murmur as she moves in front of me, taking it all in.
Her eyes roam everywhere. The white linen curtains, the gray goose-down comforter, the big bed. None of its overly done up.I went with comfort in here more than anything else, unlike the rest of the house.
Ashton drops my hand and skims the tips of her fingers along the soft blanket lying on the foot of the bed, then over the top of the dresser as she walks over to the French doors and gently pushes them open. She steps onto the balcony. Her eyes close, and her dark hair catches on the cool spring breeze picking up over the lake as the storm rolls closer. She stands there like she’s soaking it in.
She’s beautiful.
