Nick was awake.

I lifted my chin, and my gaze locked with a sleepy, light green eye. My pulse kicked up as his thumb continued to move, now in a half circle. I drew in a deep breath as my body really started to wake up and get on board with the closeness. The tips of my breasts tightened, straining against the soft cups of my bra. With each breath I took, the arousal grew and I became painfully aware of it.

“Mornin’,” Nick said, his voice abrasive with sleep.

I repeated the greeting, but I barely heard it. I was too busy staring at him. A faint shadow covered his jaw. His hair was a disheveled mess, the short ends standing up in every direction, and the slight smile on his face gave him quite the boyish look.

Clearing my thoughts, I focused on something to say and then stated the obvious. “I fell asleep.”

“You did.” Humor filled his eyes as he lifted his head, twisting it side to side as if he was working out a kink.

“You stayed.”

His gaze slowly glided over my face as he settled back down. “I did. You were just too cozy and warm to leave. You mad about that?”

“No.” Quite the opposite. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“I didn’t mind. I liked this.”

My heart started doing this little dance in my chest. “But what about your grandfather?”


“I texted the nurse. She stayed. Needed the overtime, I guess, because she was really happy about it.”

I lowered my gaze. “I hope that didn’t cost you a lot.”

“It didn’t.”

That couldn’t be entirely true. In-home nurses had to charge a pretty penny, but I was pleased that he stayed. Really pleased.

“By the way,” he drawled. “You snore.”

My eyes flew to him. “What?”

“Yep.” He grinned down at me. “You sound like a baby chain saw.”

“I do not snore!”

His gaze was hooded. “How would you know? You’re asleep.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he was right, how would I know? I never slept with a guy, not even the one I dated in high school, and while I was in college, my roommate had a habit of sleeping with ear buds in. Oh my God, maybe that was why she did that.

“Do I really snore?”

He looked serious for all about two seconds and then chuckled. “No. You don’t snore. I was lying.”

“You ass!” I screwed up my face as I smacked his arm. “Here I was thinking I actually sounded like a chain saw.”

“A baby chain saw,” he corrected.

“Whatever,” I muttered, fighting a grin.

His grin was easy as he lifted his hand from my belly and scooped a strand of hair that had escaped my braids, brushing it back from my face. “Come on, you would’ve had to know if you snored or not. Some guy would’ve told you.”

“I’ve never actually slept with a guy,” I admitted. “So it could’ve been possible.”

He lowered his hand, placing it back on my stomach. “So I’m your first.”

“At something,” I remarked.

“I’ll take it.”

I grinned. “I think you need to shoot higher.”

“Babe, you have no idea how high I’m shooting right now.”

My breath caught. “Tell me.”

Our gazes held for a moment and then his lashes lowered, shielding his eyes. A small smile played over his lips as he spread his fingers across my stomach. I felt his chest move with a deep breath.

“I want to do something,” he said as his hand inched farther south. “But I don’t think you’re going to let me.”

I curled my hand against the side of the couch. “Depends on what it is.”

“Hmm.” His fingers closed around the band of my sweats. “I want to touch you.”

Oh God.

My pulse tripped all over itself as he tugged on my bottoms. It felt like my tongue was glued to the roof of my mouth.

He lowered his head just slightly and I felt his breath dance against my cheek. “I want to feel you come around my fingers.”

There was a good chance that my heart stopped as I shifted. I felt him then, hard against my thigh.

“I know things are . . . different right now,” he said, those lips brushing the curve of my cheek as he spoke. “And I thought I didn’t want to complicate things, but I’ve got to be real honest with you, I want to get all up in that complication. I want to get all up in you.” The grip on my sweats loosened. “So are you going to make my morning?”

My chest rose and fell rapidly. For a brief moment I thought that Nick and I had a habit of doing things ass backward—sex first, then baby, and now some heavy petting, all before a date? Well, we did have a date last Sunday. Kind of?

The heat in my veins and the dampening between my thighs told the voice in my head to shut the hell up.

I was such a slave to my body, but as I turned my head toward his, and felt my nose brush his cheek, I didn’t care. “I’m going to let you make my morning.”

He stiffened against me and then said, “Thank God.”

My eyes drifted shut as I turned myself over to his capable hands, and he didn’t make me wait long. He shifted so his forehead was pressing against my temple, and I realized that in that position he could see what he was doing.

That turned me on even more.

Nick drew his hand back up to just below my navel, lingered there almost reverently, and then his large hand slid under the band of my sweats. “Holy fuck,” he growled. “Tell me this whole time you’ve had nothing on under these?”

“Nothing.” Heat turned my blood to lava. “I didn’t expect anyone last night.”

His fingers slowly ventured south as he used his knee to nudge my legs apart. “So you’re like this when you’re home alone? No panties.”

“Mostly.” My breath caught as the tips of his fingers brushed the sensitive nub.

“Damn. I’m not going to ever forget that.”

I started to respond, but then he cupped me and all thoughts vanished. His fingers trailed lightly between my legs, moving back and forth in a languid manner that curled my toes. My breathing constricted.

“You’re so soft here. I think it’s the only part of you that is.”

I wanted to tell him that wasn’t the case. That I was a big fuzzy ball of fluff when it really came down to it, but one finger grew bold, slipping inside me. My hips arched, taking him deeper, and his answering groan sent another flash of heat through me.

His finger began to move through the wetness, slow and steady, taking his time, and my hips chased the shallow movements. A breathy moan escaped me as he added another finger, gently stretching me. I grabbed at him, curling my fingers around his wrist. Tension built and coiled in the pit of my stomach.

Nick twisted his hand so that his palm pressed against the bundle of nerves, wringing a gasp out of me.

“Oh God,” I whispered. Muscles clenched.

“That’s it.” His voice was thick, needy. “I can feel you.”

The pace of his fingers picked up, going deeper and faster, and that tension continued to coil until the pressure shattered, whipping darts of pleasure through me. My cries were throaty and my hips came clear off the couch as the release burst into tiny aftershocks.