“Eve, shut up.” Raven’s reprimand has little effect on her.

“What’s going on, baby? You sick?” His questions are heavy with concern.

“No. I’m not sick.” Raven places her hand on Jonah’s cheek and runs her thumb along his eyebrow.

Jonah’s eyes get dark and bore into his wife’s. Blake pulls me close, his hand gliding up into my hair. The tension swirls between everyone at the table, and I wonder how long until someone blurts it out. It better be soon or, going by the tense set of his jaw, Jonah may lose it.

“I wanted to tell you when we were alone, but since some people can’t keep their big fat mouth shut…”

We all lean in. Even knowing what she’s about to say, I feel like I’m waiting for a surprise.

She frames his face with her hands. With a kiss on his lips, she moves to his ear and whispers.

Blake’s lips are at my ear. “What’s going—”

“Shh!” I shush him and lean in closer to the couple.

Everyone’s silent. Watching.

She pulls back, eyebrows raised at her husband. He looks at her briefly and then drops his forehead to her chest. She holds him close, her fingers running through his hair as she whispers something private. He nods a few times into her hold, presumably affirming her words. He nuzzles in deeper and she accepts him, cradling his head like she will their newborn baby.

In this beautiful moment between two people who are devoted to each other and connected through their shared love, I’m overwhelmed with sadness. As a witness to the moment that will forever change their lives, I can’t help but feel envy. Being so in love with someone that you don’t know where you start and they end. Joy over the idea of new life, a living, breathing, physical manifestation of the love you share for one another. The support of a soul partner that will protect you, and keep you and your unborn child safe and healthy until they breathe their last breath.

“Layla.” Eve hands me a napkin and motions to her face.

Shit. I dab away the couple of tears that ran loose on me and smile through my somber thoughts.

“You okay, Mouse?” Blake kisses my head, and I nod against his lips.

“Yeah. It’s just really sweet, that’s all.”

“What’s really sweet? I can’t figure out what the hell’s going on.”

I laugh and tilt my head up to his smiling face. “Ask them.”

“Yo, what the fuck’s going on?” Blake yells, breaking up the romantic moment.

I slap his chest. “Shut up.”

Jonah kisses his wife and looks around the table. The most shocking smile I’ve ever seen on a man is etched into his face. “We’re having a baby.”

Blake

Well, fuck me. I knew they were in a hurry, but I didn’t expect that so soon. I don’t get it. Why the urgent need to start a family? If I ever get married, I don’t think I’d be ready to share my bride with a kid. Wait, bride? Kid? What the hell’s wrong with me?

“Congrats, man.” I shake Jonah’s hand. “Happy for you.”

Layla leans into me and her arm tightens around my waist. My eyes roll to the ceiling without her noticing. What is it with women and babies? It’s like an airborne infection that spreads instantly and makes chicks get all weepy.

Just the thought of being a father, having that kind of responsibility over another human… shit, I’m barely taking care of myself. Chances are, I’d end up being a prick dad. One who controls, who sets ridiculously high expectations, who dominates by the sheer strength of my voice. I’m not cut out for parenthood.

But neither was Jonah, until Raven.

When Raven came into the guy’s life, it’s like he saw the world through a different pair of shades. At the time, I thought he was an idiot, but now that I’ve seen him with his girl, I get it. For the first time ever, I get the appeal of being in a committed relationship. Having someone to eat, sleep, and laugh with every day. Someone who asks about your day and genuinely cares about the answer. A best friend who I can share my secrets with, free of judgment.

I look down at Layla while she goes back and forth with Raven about girlie baby shit. Layla’s funny and relaxed, with just the right amount of fuck-you attitude. Gorgeous in a way that makes my chest throb harder than my dick. Now there’s a revelation.

Damn. With all her baggage and her hang-ups, I’m falling for this girl.

“I hate to be a party pooper, guys. But I have to work tomorrow.” The sound of Layla’s voice pulls me back from my head.

“Oh, right. The promo party at Flesh.” Raven’s eyes dart between Layla and me, like she’s waiting for me to blow up and start tossing tables.

But I’ve got other plans.

“I’ll take you home.” I pull her up from her seat and wait while she gives everyone hugs good night.

The douchebag-dicks at a nearby table rake their hungry eyes over her tight little body. I glare in their direction, quickly realizing that they’re not the only ones checking her out. Three other dudes standing at the bar are doing the same. It’s like she’s north, and no matter where she moves their needle-dick-compasses follow. Fuck.

Ready to get her the hell out of here, I move to grab her hand. She’s hugging Caleb, and I bite back a growl when I catch Mason checking out her ass. He smiles at me before he wipes the grin from his face. Yeah, bitch. Not yours.

A voice deep inside my head yells she’s not mine either.

That shit’s changing. Tonight.

Impatiently, I grab her hand to pull her out of the club and into the parking lot.

“Blake.” In her high heels, she struggles to keep my quickened pace. “Slow down.”

I can’t. There’s something I need to do. And nothing outside of a brick wall thrown between us is going to stop me. Hell, not even that.

When my car’s a few yards away, I hit unlock on my fob.

The few steps seem like miles as urgency pushes me forward. At the car, I move us both to the driver’s side.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?”

I swing the door open, hoping it will give us a sliver of privacy, and turn her to me. Moving in, I press her back against the driver’s seat and shove my hands into her loose, silken hair.

“Ask me.” My growled demand makes her jump.

“Blake, I don’t under—”

I touch my forehead to hers and force myself under control. “Torture. Being so close. Smelling you all over with the taste of your kiss still on my tongue. Standing by while motherfuckers check you out. Knowing that they’re dreaming about what I know to be better than anything their wildest fantasies could come up with. Fuck, it’s killin’ me.”

Her eyelids flutter, and her breathing’s shallow. “Oh my God.”

“Mouse, I won’t do it unless you ask. The shit from your past rides you hard. I see that. But fuck, I’m dying here.” I fist my hands in her hair and tilt her head back. My lips hover over hers so that I’m drinking in her heated breath. “Tell me it’s okay.”

“Yes.” Her mouth is so close, her lips brush against mine at her spoken word.

“Yes what?” I slide my parted lips along hers. “What do you want?”

“Please, Blake. Kiss me.”

Sixteen

Blake

Thank God. I cover her mouth with mine. She moans against my tongue. A rumble of satisfaction rips from my throat. I suck her bottom lip, and the sweet taste floods my senses. Her wet mouth, combined with the velvety caress of her tongue, grips my gut.

My abdominal muscles flex, and I press her deeper into the driver’s seat. She grips my shirt at my hips, holding on as I curve my body over hers. Everything about her seems small and delicate, but her kiss is fevered as she matches every stroke. She arches her back, pushing her breasts up so that they rub against my ribs. An intense yearning boils beneath my skin. To touch, taste, and experience every inch of her body, inside and out.

I slide my hand from her hair to her neck, all the while plundering her delicious mouth. My palm itches to run along her peaked nipple. Moving my hand lower, I stop just above the swell of her breast, unwilling to go a step farther without her spoken permission. She squirms beneath me, her body begging for what I’m holding back. Fucking perfect.

I rein in my frenzy and summon the strength to break the kiss. Her eyes seem almost black in the dark as they question mine. Impatient, I nip at her upper lip. “Ask.”

She blinks, her gaze darting to where my fingertips rest against the slope of her collarbone. “Touch me.” Her simple request dissolves with a moan.

I smile against her lips. “Good girl.”

My mouth devours hers in a rewarding kiss. She hooks the waistband of my boxers, and her small fingers feel like fire as they run against my skin. The tempting fragrance of vanilla fills my nose and teases my hunger for more.

I pull back a fraction to look at her. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips swollen, and her eyes closed. As much as I want to shove my hands—shit, my head—up her shirt, I need to know that she’s okay. If things move too fast, I could lose her. “Look at me.”

Molten lust colors her deep brown gaze.

The heel of my hand runs along the swell of her breast. She sucks in a quick breath, but I only see longing in her eyes. I move farther down and feel the firm tip of her nipple against my palm. The thin layers of fabric between us do nothing to hide the heat of her aroused flesh. My abs flex with the uncontrollable need to bury myself inside her. It’s never been this hard to hold back, and never this important that I do.