Not Quite Forever (Not Quite #4)(57)
Author: Catherine Bybee

“Did he really hit on you?” Sis asked.

Dakota ran a hand over where he’d grabbed her and looked down. Sure enough, his grimy fingers left a mark. Walt brushed her hand away. “He did this?”

She started to nod and Walt turned back to the bar.

Kevin and Billy stopped him.

Dakota rushed in front of Walt, placed both palms against his chest. “Let it go, Doc. He’s not worth it.”

“No one hurts you. Not while I’m breathing.”

There wasn’t much more he could say that could have been better. “I appreciate your chivalry more than you know. But one bar fight a night is my limit.”

Thirty minutes later, Dakota was placing an ice bag over Walt’s hand in the suite at the hotel. “You might have to take up kickboxing, Doc. This hand isn’t going to be of much use in the ER if you keep bashing in faces.”

“He deserved it.”

“No argument there.”

“I don’t like how he looked at you, Dakota.”

She shrugged. “Men look. It’s in your nature.”

“He said some ugly things.”

“He’s an ugly person.”

Walt stopped her hands as they brushed over his, forced her eyes to focus on him. “Maybe we should get married.”

A small part of her wanted to jump on his suggestion, but her head kept her from following her heart. “The words maybe and married shouldn’t be in the same sentence.”

“Fine. Let’s get married.”

She loved that he was so willing to jump in the fire, make decisions based on what he thought she needed. “Walt,” she said with a sigh. “There will be more Tommy No-Nuts out there spewing crap to cover up their own. We’re too smart and too determined to make the right decisions to let people like him have any effect on us.”

“What if—”

She placed a finger over his lips, stopping him. “You jumped into marriage once to do the right thing. I can’t let you do that twice.”

He covered her hand with his, pulled it away. “I’m not jumping.”

“Yes, you are. I know you’re feeling the pressure. The fight tonight proves it’s time for us to leave. This isn’t where we need to be. As long as we’re here, the pressure is only going to intensify until we’re fighting about what the right thing to do is.”

“It feels like we’re running.”

“We’re circling the wagons, not running. We really need to focus on what we want and not what others want of us under the current circumstances. You’re not running for president, and my fans aren’t going to stop reading my books because I’m not married. We have all the time in the world to make a decision that will affect the rest of our lives.”

He tilted his head and searched her with his eyes. “I don’t ever want anyone to look at you the way he did because you’re pregnant and not married.”

A big part of her heart melted in that moment. Her head kicked in and her mouth stated the obvious. “And if I’m a single mom down the road because we jumped . . . where will you be then?”

“That isn’t going to happen.”

Dakota offered a smile, let his hands go, and hiked her plaid skirt up to straddle his lap. “You’re right.” She kissed his forehead. “I might be single.” Her lips followed the side of his face, down his jaw to hover over his lips. “But I’m not alone.”

He took her lips and wrapped his arms around her hips. Dakota wasn’t sure what felt better, the expanse of his hands on her ass or his mouth, his tongue searching out hers.

For the first time in weeks, this wasn’t a good-night kiss, a parting good-bye. His hands found the skin under her shirt and inched up, his thumbs tracing the outline of her underwear and tickling the fullness of her breasts. The sensitive skin under her bra had her gasping with the contact. “I’ve missed you.”

He held her with one hand, pushed away from the couch with the other. “I’m right here.”

Holding on with her legs wrapped around him, Dakota kissed the outside of his ear while he walked to the bedroom. Inside he sat her on the bed and pressed against her.

Perfect. The feel of his weight as she tugged the shirt from his shoulders and tossed it to the floor. Nothing would be better than this.

Walt’s lips met with hers before detouring south. The buttons over her breasts didn’t stand a chance. They popped and at least one flew as Walt explored her skin.

“This outfit has driven me mad all night.”

Reaching around him, Dakota attempted to zip her boots down, only to find the task too difficult. Giving up, she ran her hands over his back and down his firm ass. “Serves you right for not making a move these past weeks.”

He stopped exploring her breasts with his lips to look up. “You wanted me, too?”

“I did.” She eased her hand inside the waist of his jeans. “But I think it’s sweet you held off.”

He stared at her eyes and purposely pinched her breasts. “Sweet?”

“Sugary goodness.”

Walt dipped his head, pushed her bra aside, and nibbled.

There was nothing sweet or delicate in how he brought her nipple to a peak and moved to the next. Heat rushed to her breasts with a tingle and took a swift downward spiral. She moaned, let herself enjoy the sensation of being in Walt’s arms.

Her shirt went one way, her bra another. His lips moved down her breasts, her stomach, and hovered. Was he thinking of their child deep inside her?

Walt’s eyes met hers, hot, and needy. Then he tugged the zipper of her skirt down and tossed it with the rest of her clothing.

“Boots,” she said.

“Keep ’em on.”

With knee-high boots and nothing else, she moved up on the bed and crooked her finger.

Walt fell into her seconds later, his clothes on the floor beside hers.

He filled his palms with her butt and then ran them to the tops of her boots. The smoldering heat in his eyes pressed the right buttons, made her squirm under his stare.

His mouth started at her knee, trailed up her leg. She trembled as her head fell back and he used that sinful mouth on her, bringing her to a fierce, hot rush of release.

Weak and panting, Walt pressed inside, not giving her time to think.

“I’ll slow down,” he managed. “Next time.”

Their bodies moved together, skin to skin, his lips fused to hers as he sucked the rest of her energy and swallowed her whole. Her body was ripe, open, and responding to every thrust.