The Pregnancy Test (NY Girlfriends #1)(49)
Author: Erin McCarthy

"I want you… I want you to love me."

Her mouth shifted on his forehead, kissing over to his temple, with a tenderness that made his throat constrict.

"That’s easy enough. I do love you."

It sounded so true, so right, so pure when she whispered that to him. "What else do you want?"

"I want you to be mine." His voice got stronger, the lump in his throat easing up. He rubbed his lips along her cheek. "I want to love you."

Her lips met his, briefly, tantalizing. "Then love me, Damien. Love me."

He did. With all of the shards and damaged pieces of his heart, he did truly love Mandy. In a way he’d never thought possible, with a desperate sort of ache and a quiet joy.

"I do. I will." And he covered her mouth, kissed her softly again and again, wanting the moment to stretch and last and allow them both to hover in that place of promise.

He touched her – arms, waist, shoulders, neck – questing, intimate touches, the need to feel Mandy’s flesh everywhere, to caress and worship every inch. Their tongues met as they kissed, a slow, leisurely mating that sent of kick of hot desire through his body.

"I want to feel you closer," she said, pulling back to yank her tank top off. In the shadows, he could see the full roundness of her breasts.

It had been over three weeks since he’d seen her without her shirt, and then he’d only known her body for two days, but he knew she looked different. The change to her breasts was subtle, the dark pinkness around her nipples larger, her belly a little rounder. She looked incredibly sexy to him. But she also looked beautiful, wonderful, vulnerable in her love for him.

He was in absolute awe that she could look at him and think there was anything for her inside of him. "Mandy."

She started to tumble back onto the bed, reaching for him.

"Don’t lie that way, remember," he said, mentally referencing the Everything Guide as he took off his own shirt. "Lie on your side and just let me hold you. I just want to hold you."

She did as he asked, her head falling onto the sleep-squashed pillow, a soft smile on her face as she settled onto her side. Damien stood up, took his shoes and pants off. He left his boxers on as he slid in alongside her. This wasn’t about sex. It was about feeling her, being near her and cherishing the idea that they could be together.

That love could be enough.

Mandy sighed when he reached for her and shifted closer until they were touching from shoulder to toes, her soft curves nestled against his hard flesh, her belly resting above his pelvis.

They shared her pillow, faces hovering inches apart.

"This could work, Damien," she whispered. "It’s honestly all up to you whether we should try or not."

He knew she wasn’t talking about sleeping arrangements or sexual positions, but about them. The future. Rubbing his lips across her forehead, he asked, "Why is it up to me? You’re the one having a baby. That’s the most important thing we need to think about."

"Exactly. I know that you’ll be wonderful with my baby. I don’t doubt that for a minute. But I need to know if this is temporary or long-term. If we need to take it slow… or we need to leave it at this tonight."

The words tickled his ear as she spoke. He could smell the floral scent of her lotion, feel the dampness of her hair as he drove his fingers through her curls.

"I don’t want to pressure you or rush you or be insensitive to what you’ve been through, but I do have to think about my baby, and I just need to know what it is you want."

What he wanted and what he should do seemed to be two different things. It wasn’t fair to ask Mandy to wait for him to heal the wounds he had. It wasn’t fair to ask her to take him on as he was, more liability than asset. It wouldn’t be fair to ask her to allow him into her daughter’s life.

He closed his eyes. He didn’t give a shit about fairness. If he couldn’t have Mandy, tonight, here, now, love her and feel her love for him, if he couldn’t have a life that included her in it, then he wasn’t sure he could face that empty future.

Selfish or not, he needed her.

"I want you. I want your daughter. I want us."

"I was really hoping you’d say that," she whispered.

It wasn’t clear to him who moved, but their lips were together, coaxing, pressing, begging, tasting each other, and he gripped the side of her cheek, desperate in his desire, his feelings.

He loved her. She loved him. And Mandy said it could be that simple. Here, in the dark, with her in his arms, her taste on his tongue, he believed it.

Mandy kissed Damien for all she was worth, trying to push into his mouth all the feelings, the love, the tenderness she felt for him. She knew it wasn’t easy for him to open up to her. He had been living in emotional solitary confinement for three years.

But this was right, so very, very right, and she wanted to show him that.

When she started pushing down her knickers, he broke their kiss. "Need help with those?" His voice wasn’t urgent, but slow, sensual, achingly intimate.

"Yes, please. I want to be closer to you. I want to be inside your skin." She slipped into his boxers and held his bum, wedging him closer against her, even as he skimmed her panties down.

"You feel so good," he said, brushing his mouth over her shoulder, her arm, as he pushed the panties to her knees.

Mandy kicked her legs and got them off the rest of the way. They were hot flesh to hot flesh, the moonlight reflecting off his glossy black hair, the hair on his legs tickling over her skin.

She drew in a deep breath. "You smell so good. Like a man."

He laughed softly. "I don’t think that’s a good thing."

Hearing his laughter always pleased her on a fundamental level because she didn’t think he’d had much to laugh about before she’d met him. It seemed such a small thing, but every time she heard it, she had to smile.

"Oh, but it is." She licked his chest, enjoying the startled little jerk he gave. Shifting her hands, she maneuvered his boxers down to his hips. Desire was building between her thighs, and when his erection pressed against her, she groaned softly.

Damien disposed of his boxers using the same kick-and-flick method she had, until they were both on their sides, locked together like a couple of Legos. His kisses rained down her neck, shoulder, and breast while she rocked against him slowly, the tip of his penis sliding along her slick folds.

They teased and touched and kissed until their breathing was loud and ragged and their rocking movements desperate. Mandy ached to feel him inside, ached to show him what he meant to her.