His eyes sparkle and he shakes his head at me in fond exasperation.
I swallow, then immediately shove a handful of fries in my mouth.
Oh, God.So good.
Just the right amount of crispiness on the outside.
A little moan escapes me and I watch as Noah’s eyes widen in response.
Oops.
His gaze zeroes in on my mouth as I lick the salt from my lips and suddenly … I’m not so hungry anymore. At least, not forfood. I quickly glance away, feeling the flush spread throughout my entire body.
That’s the other thing about the second trimester–I’m horny as fuck. And it’s not like I’m going to be out at the bar picking up dudes now that my belly’s popped. Not that I want to, anyway. There’s only one man I want and I can’t have him. Or at least, I know I shouldn’t.
But damn, I really, really want to.
My vibrator, Glen, has been getting a real workout lately (yes, I named him).
I meet Noah’s eyes again and a shiver runs through me at the heat I see reflected there. Thewant. I’m not the only one feeling this … thisthingbetween us.
I don’t think either one of us is breathing as we stand there staring at each other. All the air seems to have been sucked from the room. Noah groans and then grips the counter. The sudden movement has me dropping my gaze to his hands, white-knuckled against the edge of the butcher block.
Those hands.
I remember how they’d gripped my hips so tightly that night at the bar. The utter possession in his hold. I remember how his hand had squeezed mine in comfort and solidarity at the doctor’s office. And finally, I remember how those hands felt trailing over my skin, calluses brushing against my naked body that night on the beach, the pleasure they drew from me when he slipped his fingers inside–
Noah clears his throat and it snaps me back to the present. He’s wrapping up the remainder of his burger, his eyes trained firmly on what he’s doing.
“We should get going on the nursery. It might take a while to build the crib,” he says, and his voice sounds strained.
“Right, sure.” I gesture to the pile of boxes just inside the living room. “Everything’s right over there. I couldn’t move it any further than that.”
He frowns, that little pucker appearing between his eyebrows. “You shouldn’t have tried to move them at all.”
I roll my eyes. “Well, I couldn’t very well leave them blocking my entryway–”
“Still,” he interrupts me, “you should have called me to move them.”
“Only the crib box was heavy, and I basically just pushed it across the floor. I promise it was fine.”
He doesn’t look convinced, but I just shrug, turning my back to him. I’m still buzzing from the moment we just shared. We seem to be having a lot of them lately.
“Well … okay. I trust you. But if you get any more deliveries, I want you to let me know. I’ll come move them for you.”
I just nod, still turned away from him.
“I’m just going to run back out to my car for a minute,” Noah says softly. “I left my tools in the trunk.”
“’Kay, sounds good.” I could use another minute alone to reel my hormones back in, anyway.
The door closes behind him and I let out a big sigh.
???
“There!” Noah tightens the last screw and then stands back to admire his handiwork.
“Ohhh, it’sperfect,” I breathe.
