Bennett (On the Line Book 2)(28)

Mom: She’s beautiful, honey. Dad and I are thrilled for you both. When can we meet her?

Me: Soon, I promise.

I saw a text I’d missed that was sent an hour ago from a phone number I didn’t recognize.

Unknown: Hey sexy, how r u?

Me: Hey, think you’ve got the wrong number.

Unknown: Is this Bennett?

Me: Yeah.

Unknown: It’s Michelle Harbor. We hooked up over the summer.

I thought back and remembered a woman I’d met right before my season started. We’d both been out with friends and had exchanged numbers and gotten together a few days later. But why was she texting me now?

Me: Oh yeah.

Unknown: So . . . you should come over.

Me: I’m seeing someone.

At least, in my mind I was. Charlotte and I didn’t have to be officially together for me to be devoted to her right now. She was the mother of my child. But for me, it went beyond that. I would have wanted her even if she weren’t pregnant. I had wanted her but she’d blown me off after our one night together.

I’d never thought of myself as a manwhore before meeting Charlotte, but I’d had my fair share of one-night stands. Curvy, thin, short, tall, blond, brunette . . . I’d never had a “type.” I’d enjoyed sex with women of all different body types, ages, and ethnicities. None of them had ever stuck with me like Charlotte, though. I’d craved sex many times, but this was the first time I’d craved just one woman. It made me feel like a caged animal—wound up and eager to pounce.

When we got back to Fenway, I tossed my bag of gear into Liam’s trunk and rode home with him.

“I’m leaving for the night when we get home,” I said.

“To go see the chick you’re not dating?”

“Maybe.”

He shook his head and shot me a dirty look. “Why are you being so coy about her?”

“I’m not being coy, douchebag.”

“Yeah, you are.”

“Guess you’re being coy about Keri, then.”

“You’re a prick,” he muttered. “And your ass better not leave without cleaning up that mess you left in the kitchen.”

“What mess?”

“The dishes.”

“I’ll do ’em tomorrow, Ma.”

We parked and I didn’t even go inside. I’d brushed my teeth on the bus and also Googled what was off-limits sexually for pregnant women. I didn’t want to squish my kid or anything. It sounded like as long as I didn’t blow air into her vagina, we were good to go. And why would I do that shit, anyway? Blowing air into it? If her * was anywhere near my mouth, I’d have much better things in mind. I’d also read that women’s breasts were more sensitive during pregnancy, and I planned to find out if that was true.

I drove to Charlotte’s apartment, where the key was waiting for me in her mailbox in the lobby of her building. I opened the door and went inside, blood pumping hot in my veins.

Her bedroom door was open just a crack and James’s was closed. I grabbed the handle to Charlotte’s door and pushed it open. A small lamp on a nightstand created a dim glow.

She sat up in bed, holding the covers over her chest.

“Hi,” she said softly.

“Hey.”

Her messy curls and bare shoulders were so sexy. My cock started to stiffen as I approached the bed. I’d never responded this way to just the sight of a woman.

“Can I barricade the door?” I asked. “James isn’t ruining our night this time.”

She smiled. “He knows. He won’t be leaving his room until morning.”

“Good.” I shrugged off my leather jacket and tossed it to the floor beside the bed. “What’s with the covers? You cold?”

She looked down at the covers she was clutching to her chest. “No. I put something on and now I feel self-conscious.”

“What is it?”

She shook her head. “It’s stupid. I’ve never worn anything like this.”

“Charlotte.” I sat down beside her and brushed away the hair that was hiding her face. “Let me see.”

Sighing softly, she slid the covers down past her breasts, revealing low-cut, lacy black lingerie. Her breasts were cupped behind the delicate fabric, the pink of her nipples showing through. My pulse picked up as I took her in.

I reached for the covers she had a death grip on and pushed them all the way down. She wore what looked like the sexiest slip I’d ever seen, the black satin below the lace begging me to touch her.

“Wow,” I breathed, meeting her eyes. “Stand by the bed so I can see all of you.”

Slowly, she slid out from beneath the covers and stood next to the bed, her expression nervous as she looked down at me. I sat on the edge of the mattress, raking my eyes over every inch of her.

“You’re beautiful,” I said, putting my hands on her hips. I couldn’t keep them still, though; there were too many places I wanted to touch her. I slid my hands down to her thighs, around to her curvy ass, which I squeezed just hard enough to elicit a moan.

I ran my hands lower, slowly trailing my fingertips over the backs of her thighs and then up, pushing up the sides of the satin nightie to reveal more bare skin. She pressed a hand over her stomach, her breath hitching nervously.