Pregnant by Morning. Kat Cantrell

get it.

      She glanced over with a sultry smile. “You. Come here.”

      Only a fool would pass up what was clearly fate.

      With one hand, he got rid of his shoes and socks as he crossed the room. He tossed her clutch on a pillow and stared at her gorgeous form, flawless in the lamplight. “Hold on a minute.”

      He pulled a book of matches from his bedside drawer and lit the candles lining ornate sconces on each side of the bed, then clicked off the light.

      “Nice. You could have gotten me here a lot faster if you’d said that was the first thing you’d do once I’m naked.” She sat up and grasped his lapels, drawing off his jacket with a quick yank. “And you have on too many clothes. I’m feeling self-conscious here.”

      He let the jacket fall to the floor. “I can’t imagine why. You’re beautiful.”

      Flames flickered over her skin and threw honey highlights into her curls.

      Her hands, which had been busy with his tie, rested flat on his chest, and she rose up on her knees to meet his gaze. A hundred emotions poured from her expression, passing between them in silent communication.

      “You know why,” she said.

      He did. In her eyes, he saw the same things she no doubt saw in his. They had an understanding, nonverbal and mystifying, but very real. He’d felt it from the first moment in the hall. He felt it now.

      She was self-conscious not because of her nakedness, but because she’d removed her mask and feared learning she’d made a mistake in trusting him.

      This night was about two damaged people seeking a port in the storm. He was going through with it because he wanted to live up to her trust. Wanted to fall into a woman so different from any he’d ever met, one so wrong for a real estate broker from Dallas, but perfect for a man who didn’t know who he was or how to live his life anymore.

      He wanted to see what happened if he let go of all the rules. It couldn’t be worse than the purgatory of the past eighteen months.

      If he did it right, it would be spectacular. Meaningful. And Matthew did everything right.

      “I’m not going to disappoint you,” he said hoarsely.

      “I know. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.” Her voice had grown impossibly huskier as well, skating across his skin, burrowing its gravelly hooks into his center. “I’ve just never done anything like this before. Never wanted to.”

      Well, that made two of them. Hopefully they could figure it out together. “No expectations. No rules.”

      “I remember. Except I have this one rule.” She made short work of removing his bow tie and began slipping his shirt’s buttons free with deliberate care as she peeked up from under her lashes. “I get to explore first. You have to wait your turn.”

      He went so hard, his spine curved. Had a woman ever undressed him so provocatively?

      “That’s a pretty unfair rule. Why can’t we do it at the same time?”

      “Because I said.”

      The last button popped from its mooring, and she slid blazing fingertips across his bare chest on her way to his shoulders. His shirt came off in her hands and she yanked it halfway down his arms, trapping them against his side.

      “Actually,” she added, “the rule states I get to explore twice, once with my eyes and another time with my mouth.”

      Said eyes roamed over his exposed skin as she pulled him closer with the grip she had on his shirt. Without warning, she spun him and tied his hands behind his back with the fabric.

      “Oh, now that’s really not fair.”

      “All’s fair in love and war.” Still on her knees, she turned him back around to graze a fingertip down his chest and into the waistband of his pants. “I’ll let you go when I’m done exploring.”

      She drew him closer and dropped his pants and briefs to the floor, ravishing his erection with her eyes, as promised.

      He kicked his pants away. “I can easily break out of this you know.”

      “You won’t.” Her light tone fooled him not in the least.

      This was love and war. And holy cow, did that get his juices flowing in a way he’d never have guessed. He’d play along, but she better believe he’d be dishing it out when he got the chance.

      With a soft sigh, she twirled her finger. “Turn around. I want to see it all.”

      He faced the wall opposite the bed, slightly uncomfortable and enormously turned on by the notion of her eyes traveling up and down his naked body.

      “When does the mouth exploration start?” he called over his shoulder.

      Her answer came with a soft touch at the base of his spine. Hair brushed his skin as she nibbled upward and his long-neglected body erupted with heat.

      By the time she reached his neck, her tongue had joined the party. He groaned at the wicked swipe of wet heat against his earlobe, and allowed her to spin him slowly as she followed the line of his jaw with her lips.

      Then there was no more talking as she kissed him.

      He wanted to drag her into his arms and respond in kind. But he couldn’t. His honor forced him to stay constrained as she did her best to drive him mad. He spiraled closer to the edge as she tilted his head in her palms to take the kiss deeper, teasing her nipples across his chest in a tantalizing back-and-forth dance.

      Evangeline broke the kiss, arching her back sensuously. The silk of her thong brushed his length, and he nearly came apart right then and there.

      No. He breathed heavily through his nose and clamped down on his reaction.

      “Matt,” she breathed into his ear, and the low croak was the sexiest thing he’d ever heard. “When I first saw you, I noticed those capable hands. I want them on my body. Now.”

      She reached around to pull the knot of his sleeves apart, but he’d already yanked his wrists free.

      His mouth was on hers instantly as he slid both palms down the heat of her back to cup her bottom. Smooth. Arousing. He crushed her against his erection and plunged into sensation, freely allowing his body to revel in the impressions, the awareness. Finally, he felt something other than frozen and disoriented.

      As he dipped underneath the triangle of silk at her thighs, she moaned and strained forward, seeking his fingers, throwing her head back in pleasure.

      That was as arousing as the feel of her skin.

      She was nothing like Amber.

      He willed away the comparison—ghosts had no place here. But the thought circled and grew. Amber had been sophisticated, elegant. Beautiful in the way of a glass swan with special handling requirements.

      He’d always held her in slight reverence as the future mother of his children, and they’d shared a strong relationship anchored by common interests and goals. Their love life had blossomed into something wonderful and good. But conducted in the dark, under the sheets, which Matthew never minded.

      This was something else, something erotic and animalistic and wicked. Evangeline wasn’t Amber. And there were no rules tonight.

      He wanted to bury himself in this woman and be resurrected a new man.

      * * *

      Evangeline enfolded Matt with her arms and willed him to hurry. But there was no rushing the man she’d been goading with tied hands for the past few minutes.

      His fingers wrapped her in a veil of pleasure as they slowly traveled across her skin, spinning magic through her center as he touched her everywhere—inside and out.

      Yes. Exactly what she needed—to be filled, valued, appreciated. Accepted.