“I don’t think you understand.” I move up the couch, wrap one arm around her and let the other settle on her thigh. Goosebumps spread up her thigh as I settle my hand against her bare skin. “I can’t imagine a world where there’snota future. With you and me. With our son.”
I crash my lips against hers in a hungry kiss. She responds, clawing onto my shirt, pulling herself closer like she wants to melt into me. I slide my hand down her body, spread it over the small of her back.
“Rafe,” she moans, leaning back slightly. “You have to slow down.”
“I know I should,” I admit, then kiss her again.
The noises she makes are tantalizing, a gorgeous mixture of conflict and hunger and need. She grabs my shirt so hard, her fingernails dig into my chest, then pushes herself away again. Only this time she’s not pulling away because she wants to stop.
“Rafe…”
“I… know…” My voice falters.
“What?” she murmurs.
“You’re, uh…” Oh,fuck. My shaft is so hard it’s painful.
She looks down, has the gall to look mortified when she sees the wet spots on her top.
“I’m sorry, this happens sometimes?—”
“Don’t fucking apologize,” I growl. “Don’t you dare do that. That’s a sign your body is up to the task of being the best mother, Ava.”
She stares at me. Her flush like fire, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
“Don’t you dare,” I groan, leaning down, kissing her chest, going lower.
“Ruh-Rafe,” she whimpers.
“Say sorry for this,” I growl, biting her top and pulling it down. Revealing inch after mouthwatering inch of her breasts.
I pull her top down, wedging it under her leaking breasts. Her nipples glimmer with her milk. I kiss across her breast, moving toward her nipple eagerly, my cock a rock-hard rod of pure heat in my pants.
“What are you doing?” she whispers, voice shaking, tone something like awe.
“Tasting what’s mine,” I snap, taking her nipple in my mouth.
I slide my hand up her thigh at the same time?—
Her cellphone explodes on the coffee table. She stands abruptly, her tits bouncing, milk flying from them. Pulling up her top, she grabs her phone. “It’s Mom.”
“Yeah, take it,” I say breathlessly.
She glares, but she’s smiling too. Her eyes sparkle with pleasure. “I wasn’t asking for your permission.” She answers. “Wait—Mom, slow down. Thepolice?” A pause. “Shooting?”
“What’s going on?” I demand, jumping to my feet.
“There was a gun fight outside my parents’ house.”
CHAPTER 19
AVA
Isit in the back seat, gently stroking Theo as he throws his head back and wails like he knows what’s going on. Mom hung up, said she had to give a statement to the police, but not before telling me about a shooting outside the house. Rafe is driving, speaking with someone on speakerphone.
“Any dead?” he demands.
“No, but Riccardo took one to the shoulder. I think we got one of theirs. We had to leave the house, boss.”
