“Maybe it will this month.”
“No.” She spread both hands over his ribs, letting her thumbs meet at the faint, central line of hair. “It won’t happen for a little while.”
Jared was intrigued by her certainty. “Why not?”
“Because,” she said, taking a breath, “the next few months are going to be ugly. I don’t want our baby to be tainted by that.”
“Our baby.” Jared grinned. “Sounds nice.” In the next instant, though, the grin vanished. “Will I be competing with Stavanovich for your attention?”
“Not competing—”
“You can’t let him dominate your life, Savannah.”
“He won’t—”
“He’dbetternot.”
She couldn’t help but grin. “Or what? What’ll you do to poor Matty?”
“I won’t do a damn thing to poor Matty. It’s poor you I’ll do things to.” He leaned forward, all the way forward until Savannah’s back hit the sofa cushions. “If necessary,” he loomed over her, “I’ll keep you right here on this boat, naked and hot,” a more husky drawl, “just beggin’ for it.”
“You could do it,” she whispered, sliding her hands up his chest, “and without much effort. It doesn’t take much to get me hot when I’m around you.”
“What about naked?” he asked. The gray flecks in his eyes had darkened.
At the slight pressure of her hand, he backed off her. She stood and began to undress, slipping off first her jeans, then her shirt, then her panties and bra. Her movements weren’t purposefully seductive, yet the effect on Jared couldn’t have been greater if she had done a bona fide strip tease. His face was flushed and his chest felt suddenly tight.
She looped her aims around his neck. “I’m naked.”
“I know,” he said in a raspy murmur. While he cupped her breast and sucked her nipple far into his mouth, his free hand set the rest of her on fire. When his fingers finally wound up high between her legs, he whispered, “You’re hot.”
“And begging,” she breathed in a broken whisper. Her hands went to the snap of his jeans. “Please, Jared, hurry.” She lost patience with his zipper and, instead, began to stroke his swollen flesh through the denim.
With a soft curse, he struggled out of the jeans. Then he stood, brought her tight against him and moaned. “God, do I love you.”
“Then help me,” she whispered without restraint. She wasn’t sure why, but she had no patience at all. She needed him inside, and she needed it now. Backing her up a step until the backs of her knees touched the large, square coffee table, he lowered her to its surface and slowly, sensuously, stretched out over her. Linking his fingers with hers by her head, he watched her face as he entered her.
She was beautiful all the time, he thought, but especially at the moment of his penetration. Her face was always the same, with elements of surprise and delight, yet always different, depending on what they’d been doing or discussing beforehand. This time, mixed with a canvas of love was relief, and even in spite of the relief, she was raising her thighs higher on his, opening herself to a deeper possession.
Jared would have possessed her soul if she had let him, but he had to be satisfied with her body and her heart. Some time later, when he lay damp and spent between her thighs, he thought of that possession and realized how tenuous it was.
“You’ll be mine,” he whispered into the tangled cloud of chestnut hair that cushioned his face.
“I am yours,” she whispered back.
“Forever and ever, amen?”
“I want that.”
“Then marry me.”
“Soon.”
“Now.”
“Soon.”
Taking her with him, he rolled off the table and onto the rug with a thud.
