A Pregnancy and a Proposal by Mindy Neff

Author:Mindy Neff
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Darcie couldn’t resist. He drew her in, fitted her hips to his and pressed. Her heartbeat went wild, as did her imagination. She knew this man’s touch, craved it. He made her ache, and he made her want to cry.

Reverently, gently, he angled his head and hers, taking the kiss higher, harder, pulling her closer. She tasted coffee and desire on his tongue, felt the unbreakable, unexplainable electricity in his touch. The chemistry between them was like an unstoppable wildfire, coursing through her, jumping to him and back again. A tangible, licking flame that could burn them if they weren’t careful.

She tried to insert a sensible word, but barely got it out. “We—”

“We should,” he murmured against her lips, somehow knowing her protest and determined to overcome it.

And Darcie didn’t have a lot of argument in her. How could her mind go blank when so many impressions were crowding in? Words flashed through her brain, but none stuck long enough for her to consider them, or remember them. She could only feel. The caress of Flynn’s fingers. The strength of his body.

And she could only yearn. For something she wanted more than life, but knew she very likely couldn’t have.

Oh, the ache was enough to send her to her knees. But Flynn’s strong arms were around her, holding her, making her feel as though things had a prayer of working out.

“Come upstairs with me,” he said, his voice rough. “I did you wrong the last time. I was rushed and had too much to drink. This time I want to make it last, do it right, show you that I’m not an insensitive jerk.”

“I know…I know you’re not.”

“Let me prove it anyway.”

His lips cruised to her ear, her neck. She shivered at the erotic sensations that coursed through her.

“We can’t.”

“I want to see your tattoo.”

She made herself step back. “I’ll show it to you…but we don’t have to go that far just to see it.”

He let her go, didn’t even try to disguise the aroused state of his body straining at the front of his jeans. “You’re gonna drop your drawers and expect me to keep my hands in my pockets?”

“A gentleman would.”

“Did I say I was a gentleman?” She’d moved just a bit farther away from him, he noted.

“You don’t have to say it, Flynn. I can see it.”

“Then I’m definitely slipping. Used to be I had a bad-boy image that made women shiver just to look at.”

She put him right in his place when she burst out laughing. Just as he’d intended for her to do. She was looking way too serious, way too scared—as though she would leave and never return. He wanted to persuade her otherwise. But he knew when to back off and when to press. Right now was the time for backing off.

“Nothing wrong with your ego,” she said.

“Look closer, darlin’. You’ve just stomped on it.”

She shook her head. “I really have to go.”

“Why? It’s Friday night. Got a pressing date?”

“Maybe.”

He felt his gut tighten.

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