Wild for You (Hot Jocks #6)(57)

“Do you want to go to my bedroom?” I choke out, gasping when Grant finds a particularly sensitive spot on my jaw in his slow journey toward my neck.

“Yes.” He groans, clearly wishing we were there already.

Normally, I’d be happy to get down and dirty on the floor. But with this belly, I need some support.

“Let’s go.” I giggle, pulling him by one hand out of the nursery. I turn back to him with a smirk when we reach my door. “Don’t judge, okay? My body doesn’t look like it used to.”

“You’re beautiful, Ana,” Grant whispers into my ear, sending chill bumps racing down my spine.

Once inside my room, he spins me around, but not too fast. I’m a little top-heavy, so he’s sure to handle me with care. Untying my maternity dress with slow, steady fingers, he continues whispering sweet nothings into my ear.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, you know that? You knock me out.”

Eager to show him exactly how beautiful I think he is, I press my hands under the hem of his shirt, needing to feel the warmth of his skin, to touch those deliciously defined muscles again. Grant releases me only for as long as it takes to rip his shirt off, his hair tousled and his eyes wild with desire. I press my face to his pecs, flicking my tongue out to taste him. His chest vibrates with a deep, guttural moan as he slides his fingers into my hair.

“Let’s lie down,” he says, his voice hoarse.

I can tell he’d like nothing more than to bend me over my dresser and take me right here and now, and truth be told, that very fantasy has played in my head more than once. However, I’m startlingly pregnant, so however we’re going to do this will have to be one hundred percent safe for both me and the baby.

Grant strips out of his pants before sitting down on the edge of my bed, where he watches me peel the maternity dress from my shoulders and drop it to my ankles. In my underwear, I’ve never felt quite so exposed in my life. And oh God . . . they’re maternity underwear.

Just kill me now.

“Come here,” he murmurs, one of his hands gently massaging his bulging erection through the cotton of his briefs. It’s distracting as all hell.

My heart skitters as I watch him. He’s so bulky and gorgeous and just . . . big all over. I step closer until I’m standing in between his powerful thighs.

When my gaze lands on his, his eyes are filled with adoration and desire, and there’s nothing but heat between us. Without breaking our eye contact, he reaches behind me to unclasp my bra. It falls to the floor, joining my dress. My heartbeat is so fast and loud, I’m not sure how he doesn’t hear it, but Grant stays focused. He’s looking at me like I’m the best, most desirable thing he’s ever seen.

His eyes are dark with pleasure, and the way he watches me sends chills racing down my body. It’s hard to breathe with him looking at me like that. And then his gaze drops lower, settling at my breasts, and he sucks in a ragged breath. They’re larger than they’ve ever been. And more sensitive too.

“Oh fuck, these things are amazing.” His voice is raspy, full of hot emotion.

Cupping the weight of one lush breast, Grant rubs his thumb across my nipple. A bolt of heat sizzles down my spine. He leans forward and kisses the top of one breast, then the other, and I release a shaky exhale.

When he sucks one perky nipple into his mouth, I tremble. And when he sucks the other just as firmly into his hot mouth, I almost fall apart on the spot. It’s too much sensation, and not enough at the same time. The rough scratch of his stubble creates a welcome sting, and I moan, arching my back to get even closer.

Reaching out, I stroke his eager erection through the fabric. “Grant . . .” I moan as he nuzzles into my breasts. “I need you,” I say with a stuttered breath.

His eyes meet mine with a solemn expression that for a second I can’t read. Everything grows quiet between us, and the moment drags on with uncertainty.

Does he not want to? Maybe I’m too pregnant.

Oh God . . . My face heats in embarrassment.

His fingertips skim over my hips as he admires me, and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “I don’t have a condom.”

Oh. “I don’t care.” I pause and then look at him again. “Unless I should?”

He shakes his head. “I haven’t been with anyone else.”

“Me either.” The second the words leave my mouth, his lips quirk up, and I realize how ridiculous that sounds. I’m nearly eight months pregnant. It kind of goes without saying that suitors aren’t exactly lining up around the block for me.

“Come here,” he says on another groan.

I sit down on the edge of the bed, holding my belly with one hand and using the other to help lower my torso onto the bed, until I’m nestled into his arms. My back is to him, but that doesn’t deter him one bit. Before I can try to turn, his hot breath is in my ear again.

“Are you comfortable?” he asks, his hands seeking my most sensitive spots, cupping my breasts again, caressing my cleavage, my nipples . . . my belly.

“Yes.” I moan, loving the way his huge, warm hands envelop my belly, making me feel so small again. So protected.

Grant kisses my neck and shoulder, his tongue drawing lazy circles across my tender flesh in the most distracting way. I press my ass into his engorged cock, which twitches excitedly against the soft material of my underwear. His hand slips into the front of my panties, and he lets out a low growl.