Everything Unexpected (22 page)

EVEN WITH THE kiss surprising him and his lips barely moving, they fall over mine perfectly without even having to try. I feel like I should say something, comment on it. When two people fit so well together they don’t have to put any effort into it, shouldn’t it be acknowledged? When two bodies can align without thought, one person’s curve filling in the others completely, shouldn’t it be recognized? When you know what they are going to do a fraction of a second before they do, shouldn’t that be authentication of something great? I should say something but I can’t. Because now his lips start to move, taking control of the kiss, and it leaves me speechless.

Shane wraps his hand around my neck, pulling me into his lap, our mouths never separating. If anything, they only fused together more tightly, like we’re branding each other’s names invincibly onto each other’s lips. Our chests come together, my breasts pressed hard against his body. His hands find their way to my hips, fingers clenching into my skin, marking me through my barely fitting jeans.

He pulls away, trying to catch his breath. I feel the scruff of his chin rub against my cheek, my fingers running over his short, nearly shaved head. Shane pulls one of my hands down and brings it to his lips, kissing my fingers softly.

“Are we doing this?” he asks.

I grin. “We’ve been doing this for months.”

I expect him to chuckle at my answer, but he doesn’t. His face remains serious, his hand squeezing my fingers tighter.

“No, Comb,” he begins again. “Are we doing
this
? Because I want to. But you need to want it too.”

I pull my fingers from his hands and rest them on the side of his cheek. When he turns his face to the side to kiss them, I know I want this too. Maybe I’ve always wanted it. Maybe it took something so unexpected to make us getting together so…predictable.

“I want this,” I tell him.

Those are the only words he needs to hear. His lips press against mine once more. His hands hold my head in place as he nibbles against my jaw line, then soothes the tiny stings with his tongue. He leaves soft kisses in his wake as he works his way back up to my lips, leaving me feeling lightheaded. We kiss like that for seconds, minutes, hours. We kiss for all the weeks of touching, panting, begging, but never kissing. Our lips should feel like strangers, but they don’t. Instead, they feel like they’ve finally found each other again. Lovers reconnecting, having counted down the days, weeks, months until being reunited. For months, we’ve been physical but it took us being separated for a week to finally become intimate.

This technically isn’t our first kiss, but in all the ways it matters, it is. This kiss is a promise we are going to start everything all over. That everything will change yet stay the same. That we’ll still be Shane and Leah, still be best friends but as of tonight, we’re going to try and be more. Be something different. Be everything to each other.

Shane’s lips move down to my neck, kissing and sucking every inch he touches. I feel his hot breath against my skin as he speaks. “I thought you weren’t in the mood,” he asks between small little bites.

“I wasn’t,” I say panting. “But I’m pregnant. Things switch very quickly for me.”

I feel his body shake under me, soft laughter rippling through him. “Lucky me,” he says before resuming his focus on my neck.

I reach down to his waist, pulling his shirt over his head, wanting to be able to run my hands over his chest, to feel his hard nipples under the tips of my fingers. He helps by raising his arms up in the air. I toss his shirt to the side and look down at his chest, lost in how warm and beautiful his skin looks and feels. I want to lick every inch of him.

He starts to lift the hem of my shirt and that earlier anxiety comes over me. Insecurities about how my body is changing—has changed—since he last saw me.

My shirt is nearly half way up my body when I pull it back down. Shane’s eyes question me and an embarrassed rush of heat reddens my cheeks. I look down, refusing to meet his eyes and cup my hands together between my legs.

“I—I don’t look the same. I’m…bigger than I was a few weeks ago.”

My worry is met with silence, and I’m too nervous to look up. But Shane doesn’t give me a choice. He grabs my chin with his thumb and index finger, forcing me to meet his stare.

“You are the sexiest woman in the world to me. Probably more now than ever before,” he says softly.

I try and shake my head in disagreement, but his hold on my chin won’t let me.

“No, Comb. I always knew you were gorgeous. Beautiful. Sexy. For years I thought any man who had the chance to have you was a lucky son of bitch. Now,
I’m
that lucky son of a bitch. Only it’s better. Because I get to see you do something amazing with your body. And it’s a turn-on.”

I roll my eyes, not believing him.

“It is,” he insists. “Even more so because I had a hand in doing this to you. Feel this,” he says taking my hand and resting it on top of his crotch. “Feel how hard you make me. Feel what your body does to me.”

My hand slowly wraps around the obvious thickness that’s hidden beneath his jeans. I give it a little squeeze and hear the sharp inhale comes from his lips.

“You do that,” he repeats.

Feeling this hard part of his body, hearing his words, seeing the lust reflected in his eyes, it gives me the confidence to pull my own shirt up and over my head. A cocky grin appears on Shane’s lips, and a part of me feels like I should slap it right off him but the other wants to relish in it for the rest of my life.

“Good girl,” he says before reaching around my back to the clasp of my bra.

“Wait!” I say, his fingers pulling at the sides of my bra. “Bryan?”

It’s one thing to let Shane see me in all my naked pregnant glory, but there is no way I’m letting Bryan catch a glimpse.

“I sent him away for the night,” Shane says, kissing the space between my breasts while releasing the clasp behind me. When the bra falls down my arms, goose bumps come over my chest, perking my nipples even more.

“Your nipples—” Shane starts.

“I know,” I interrupt. “Are huge.”

“Are beautiful,” he says ignoring me before taking one into his mouth. I let my head fall back at the sensation, equally loving and hating the torture. My breathing starts to quicken, my fingers digging into the back of Shane’s neck. I hear a moan come from his mouth as he turns his attention to my other breast. I can’t stop writhing against his thighs, needing the friction between my own legs.

Shane gets the message because one hand makes its way to the button of my pants. When his fingers brush the material of my panties, he pulls his head back a little.

With half a smile, he looks at me confused. “Your pants are already undone.”

I look down. “What?”

A small laugh erupts between us. “Your pants. They’re undone. The zipper too almost.”

My hand goes to the area in question. Button and zipper both undone, my fingers brushing against his and the material of my panties. Another round of embarrassment creeps up my face. I close my eyes, mortified.

“I couldn’t do them up. I used an elastic. It must have flown off when we started…this.” Heat burns my cheeks, the flush on my neck now only due to humiliation. I cover my eyes with my hands, shielding me from his stare.

“Oh, Comb,” he says quietly with a slight edge to his voice. “The things you do to me.”

He wraps his arms under my backside and stands, lifting me. My legs instinctively wrap around him so not to fall. He walks swiftly to his bedroom, marching us right to his bed. Laying me down, he crawls over me on his hands and knees. “I love that you can’t do up your pants. Now I can’t be driven crazy wondering what your panties look like,” he says slipping a few fingers under the elastic edge. When his fingers reach just the right spot, he leans down and whispers in my ear. “Because it does. It drives me crazy thinking about it. Every. Fucking. Day.”

His fingers move in small tight circles, somewhat restricted by the clothing I still have on. But it doesn’t seem to matter because within seconds I can feel myself building, close to coming. Shane’s mouth latches on to one of my nipples at the exact moment I come on his fingers.

“Oh God!” I yell out, riding out my orgasm for as long as I can.

Shane releases my nipple with a pop and removes his fingers from my skin. Sitting back on his heels, he grips the sides of my pants and pulls them down my legs, taking my panties along with them. He hops off the bed just long enough to unbuckle his belt and jeans, pulling them down along with his boxer briefs.

He runs his hands down his own length a few times, his eyes focused between my legs.

“I wonder if you taste different being pregnant,” he says, his voice husky. “Should I find out?”

“How would you know? This would be the first time,” I answer, still panting.

“Oh I plan to have a taste after the pregnancy too,” he says grinning, climbing back on the bed. “I’ve been wanting a taste of this for a very long time,” he says kissing the inside of my thigh. “Have you pictured my face here?” He bites my other thigh. Not enough to be painful but I know it will leave a mark. “Have you thought about my tongue,” I feel his finger tease the same spot that brought me such pleasure just moments ago, “right here.”

I lift myself up on my elbows, eyes sharpening. “If you don’t stop using your tongue for talking and start using it for something else, I’ll hurt you. And I won’t feel bad about it,” I caution him seriously.

The top corner of his lips quirks up, a look of raw satisfaction coming over his face. As he lowers his head between my legs, he whispers into my skin. “So sexy.”

My head falls to the mattress the moment his tongue meets my already sensitive skin. Heat comes over my entire body, prickling sensations of lust and want and need all over again. I grip the sheets beside my head, pulling them in opposite directions. I hear myself moan Shane’s name over and over, feel my teeth bite into my bottom lip to keep me from screaming. My second orgasm comes just as easily as my first. Shane rises, licking his lips and winking at me with an air of confidence.

Two can play at that game.

“Lie down,” I order.

He appeases me and I crawl on top of him. Lining up exactly as I need to. “Proud of yourself?” I question.

He shrugs the tiniest amount, his expression arrogant. “A little.”

“You should be,” I say. “And in return, I’m going to ride you harder than you’ve ever been ridden before.”

Taking him in my hand, I guide him inside me and do well on my promise.

I WAKE UP in Shane’s bed, alone. The sheets are a rumpled mess underneath me but his blanket has been gently laid on top of me. It’s dark, the sun having gone down hours ago. Only a dim light comes through the doorway from the living room. I sit up, wondering how long I’ve been asleep. The alarm clock near the bed says it’s just after two in the morning. I look around the room, trying to find something I can easily pull over my naked body. For a man, Shane’s room is quite tidy, no clothing laying around on the floor or furniture. I hop out of bed and look in one of the dresser drawers, finding my favorite
Frankie Says Relax
shirt. I pull it over my head and make my way to the living room.

The floor boards are cool against my bare feet, matching the air in the loft. Shane’s at his desk, camera in hand, clicking through shots on the small screen.

“Hey,” I say, startling him a bit. But his surprise is quickly replaced with a smile.

“Hi,” he answers. “I tried not to wake you.”

“You didn’t. I wake up a lot during the night.”

I walk over and sit on the couch, bringing my legs up to my chest, stretching the shirt over my knees.

Shane notices what I’m wearing. “I see you found something to wear.”

“My favorite,” I tell him, smiling.

“Mine too.” He winks. “I will say that I think you’d look better out of it though.”

I giggle. “I’m sure you do.” My eyes drift to his open laptop. “What are you working on? The shoot from LA?”

He turns to look at his open laptop, then closes the lid. “Yeah.”