The Knocked Up Plan(22)

“Do you like it weird?”

“I like it hard. I like it good. And I like it a lot.”

A groan echoes in his throat.

I tap-dance my fingers down his chest. “And I think I’m going to find out if you’re as good in bed as I’ve always thought you might be.”

“You’ve thought about me in bed?” he asks in that deep sexy voice, and oh, how this moment has shifted from baby planning to something dirty and delicious. Something I didn’t expect to happen tonight. But my body likes his plan, since it’s getting hot and bothered.

“I might have let my mind wander from time to time,” I admit.

Dropping a hand to my hip, he yanks me close. “What do you say we test out how it’s going to be with a kiss?”

“We get to kiss, too?” I tease.

“Woman, I’m not just going to fuck you. There’s going to be kissing and fucking. Fucking and kissing. And coming.”

That swoop in my chest settles between my legs now, like a pulse beating.

He bends his face to mine, and he dusts his lips to my forehead.

I shiver.

He presses a soft kiss to one eyelid then the other.

I tremble.

Then he rains kisses down my face, my cheeks, my jaw. Kisses that make me feel as if we’re under a streetlamp, the roads slick from an earlier rain.

My lips part, and he seals his mouth to mine.

It’s like that kiss on the silver screen when time stops. His lips are all I know. The world is this slow and gentle slide. The wet delicious taste. The feel of this man’s mouth pressed to mine for the first time.

Strangely, or perhaps not so strangely at all, I’m barely thinking of babies.

I’m thinking of bodies. Of my own, and how it reacts to being so close to his.

The hair on my arms stands on end as he kisses me with more softness than I ever expected. He’s tender and gentle—this is how you take a woman into your arms after you’ve told her you’ll help her dreams come true. You give her a kiss that makes her feel like starlight.

I sigh, sinking into it, savoring every wondrous second of his lips on mine. I’m not sure I’ve been kissed like this in ages. This kiss is a luxury. We are living in a slow torch song.

Lips glide. Tongues touch. Breath mingles.

He tastes like spearmint, clean and sexy, and I absolutely love that combination in a man.

He groans against my mouth. That sound, carnal and masculine, lights me up.

He slides his hand up the back of my neck, and I wobble the slightest bit. He steadies me with a hand on my hip. His fingers resume their path, climbing upward. He ropes his hands in my hair, and he tastes me more deeply. More insistent.

I let out a little moan when he nips my lips, and then our slow, deep, wet kiss shifts. It becomes a little harder, a bit faster, a lot closer. I might be panting when we stop.

He is, too. “Did I pass the kiss test?”

I blink, trying to reconnect my brain to my mouth. Fortunately, that’s one of my talents. So is remembering my half of this deal, which seems like small potatoes. But he needs those potatoes, and I’m going to serve them up however he wants. Mashed, fried, roasted, grilled. “You passed with flying colors. We’re going to work through your list of top ten dates, and I’m going to make damn sure you have the best time of your life. Because it’s anywhere, anytime, and any position with me.”

His smile is wide and wicked. “You’re going to make this the best work project ever.”

“I think I’m going to like this project, too.” I shift gears, my organizational side taking over and kicking into full gear. “Speaking of, I should be entering the ovulation zone in a few more days. I’ve been charting so I have a good idea of when it should be. Want to get started on a plan for those top five positions and the ten dates?

“How long does ovulation last?”

“They say it can be right in the middle of your cycle. Personally, I don’t want to miss a shot, so I think it’s best if we try for the five days on either side.”

“Ten days in a row.” He smirks. “I believe I’m amenable to that.”

We grab a seat in the café, and I open my calendar app. We pick a day to start, and I pencil in a few dates for him. I point to a week at the end of the month when I’ll be out of town, doing my show on the road. “But at least I’ll be at the end of my cycle then,” I say, then I meet his eyes. “Will that work out for your dating guide, though, if we miss a week?”

Ryder nods. “Cal sees this as a project that’ll last several weeks, so that sounds good to me.”

When we leave, I’m still giddy, and something occurs to me.

That wasn’t a regular wobble a little while ago when he kissed me. He made me weak in the knees.

But surely that’s because he’s going to give me a baby. I’m only swooning for the baby.





Twelve





Ryder

We fly through the air with the greatest of ease.

Nicole might have been a bird in a past life because she takes to the trapeze as if she has wings, or circus performer blood in her.

She’s strapped in with a harness contraption and swinging upside down, her knees hooked over the bar.

A September breeze zips through the air at Hudson River Park in lower Manhattan, home of Trapeze School New York. In the quest to find ever more interesting activities for dates and life, the city is home to trapeze lessons, rock climbing, indoor golf, trampolining, and more. God forbid we ever be bored in Manhattan. Rest assured I’m not.