KRISTI GOLD

The Pregnancy Negotiation


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      She smiled. “What a vision.”

      “Oh, and I also learned you didn’t stick your tongue down a woman’s throat.”

      She looked shocked again. “He told you that?”

      “Nope. I read that in one of my mom’s magazines when I was eleven. I think the article was called ‘The Fine Art of Kissing,’ or something like that.”

      “Did you practice with your pillow?”

      “Hell no. I went for the real thing.”

      She sighed. “I didn’t even kiss a boy until I was fifteen. My first date to the spring cotillion.”

      Another reminder of a time long passed. Whit wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her to his side. At least she didn’t tense up this time. In fact, she seemed relaxed, even if he wasn’t. “I remember that night,” he said. “It was mine and Logan’s senior year of high school. We were hanging out in the living room, and you came down the stairs wearing this peach-colored dress. It was the first time I realized you had breasts.”

      She playfully swatted his arm. “I had breasts when I was thirteen.”

      “Maybe so, but I didn’t notice them until that night, probably because that dress was cut kind of low.”

      She laid her hand on her chest. “I’ll have you know, it was a sweetheart neckline, very modest.”

      “You looked like a sweetheart in it. You also looked scared. I thought you might pass out.”

      “Poor Bobby looked a whole lot more scared than me when he walked in the door to face all of the guys.”

      Whit chuckled. “Well, I think he nearly ran when Aidan…or maybe it was Kevin—”

      “It couldn’t have been Kevin because he was never around, and Aidan was still in college.”

      “Maybe it was Kieran or Devin or Logan. I really don’t remember, but I do remember what was said. ‘If you lay one hand on her boob, Bobby Hiller, I’ll cut off your hand and stuff it in your mouth.’”

      Mallory laughed. “Oh my gosh, I remember that now. It was Kieran. I could’ve killed him.”

      “I was thinking the same thing.”

      “That you wanted to kill Kieran?”

      “Actually, that I wanted to put my hand on your breast. But I didn’t think I’d get any special consideration just because I was Logan’s best friend.”

      She replaced her smile with a sultry look. “Do you still want to do that?”

      He’d give up ice cream for good in exchange for that opportunity. “Are you going to cut my hand off if I say yes?”

      “No. Not at all.”

      “Then yeah, I have to admit it has crossed my mind.” Like right now.

      “I wouldn’t exactly object.”

      Never before had Whit turned down an offer to touch a woman. But this wasn’t just any woman beside him. This was his friend. One-in-a-million Mallory. And she could eventually be the mother of his child. He needed to proceed with care, even if his body wanted to move at the speed of a light.

      “Tell you what…” He leaned over and snapped off the lamp on the end table, then wrapped both arms around her. “Let’s just get used to being close to each other while we’re watching the game.”

      She rested her head in the crook of his neck and laid her arm across his middle. “That’s a good idea.”

      Whit thought so too, except for the fact that her hand was precariously low on his belly. And to make matters worse, a commercial heralding the benefits of a new pill to enhance a woman’s libido came on during the break.

      “I wonder if those work,” Mallory said. “Maybe I should try them out.”

      Whit tipped her chin up and forced her to look at him, her face cast in the blue glow of the television set. “You’re not going to need them with me.”

      She lowered her gaze. “What if there’s something wrong with me, Whit? It probably isn’t normal, going as long as I have without having sex.”

      He breezed his fingertips up and down her bare arm. “There’s nothing wrong with you. You like to be in control, with your job and your private life. You need to learn that being out of control is preferable when it comes to making love.”

      “Thank you, Dr. Manning.” She said it with amusement but Whit detected wariness in her voice.

      “You’re welcome.” He brushed a kiss across her cheek. “You can pay me later.”

      She snuggled closer. “I can only imagine what you expect as payment.”

      “I wouldn’t mind collecting with a kiss or two.” Or ten.

      She lifted her eyes to his. “I could probably live with that.”

      So could Whit, for now. He started with just touching his mouth to hers, applying only slight pressure. He pulled away then swept his lips across hers slowly, until her mouth relaxed and her lips parted. Only then did he take advantage and intensify the kiss, slowly at first, then deeper, sliding his tongue in slow increments against her tongue.

      They kissed for a good while, both growing more daring as the minutes ticked off. Before Whit could prepare, Mallory was leaning back and he was following her down onto the sofa. He adjusted his position until he faced her, realizing that was a whole lot safer than lying on top of her, and thankful he hadn’t fallen off the couch. Landing on the coffee table might give him a concussion. That would definitely destroy the mood.

      They continued to kiss as if they’d recently discovered the fun of making out, just like a couple of high school kids. Whit was definitely discovering how great it was to kiss his roomie, and how hard it would be to leave her with only this tonight, especially when she breezed her hands up and down his back, coming very close to his butt with every pass. Running on automatic, he divided her legs with his own leg, bringing them into closer contact, particularly certain parts of their anatomy that should be avoided at all costs.

      Whit kept a firm grip on his control, even with Mallory’s breasts pressed against his chest, her pelvis flush against his. He commanded his thigh not to move to the apex of her thighs, cautioned his hands not to rove below the dip of her spine. Mr. Happy presented another problem altogether, but he didn’t seem to have any control over him, especially when Whit considered how easy it would be to slip his hand beneath Mallory’s man-slaying shorts to touch her. To find out exactly how turned on she was at the moment, as turned on as him, he suspected. He opted to bring his palm to her belly and move up beneath the top instead of down between her legs, weighing her breast while thumbing her nipple in slow circular movements.

      He was vaguely aware that someone on his favored team had hit a grand slam, but his concentration centered on the highly sexual sound that slipped out of Mallory’s mouth as he continued to fondle her.

      Whit pulled back and sought her eyes. “See? There’s not a damn thing wrong with you.”

      Her face was flushed, her eyes hazy and her lips swollen from their lengthy make-out session. “If you say so.” Her rapid breathing betrayed her skeptical tone.

      He lifted the shirt to watch his hand in motion as he circled one rigid nipple with a fingertip. “You’re body doesn’t lie, Mallory. You’re excited, and you know it.”

      She sucked in a breath and blew it out slowly. “Okay, I’m a little excited. Are you happy now?”

      “I won’t be entirely happy until I prove that I can make you more than a little excited.” He was about to do something he’d never done before. Yeah, he was. In just a minute. Or two. If he didn’t do it now, then he wouldn’t before he’d crossed that point of no return. “I’m going to