Raoul was one of the good guys. Around him a girl could let herself feel safe. Not to mention a lot of other things that were a lot more yummy than safe.
A flash of courage swept through her. She set down her wine, braced herself for flat-out rejection and said, “Do you want to have sex?”
CHAPTER EIGHT
RAOUL FELT LIKE A CARTOON character. He wanted to shake his head to make sure he was hearing right. Assuming he was, he was pretty sure his eyes were about to bug out.
“Excuse me?” he asked, standing and staring down at her.
Pia sighed. “Do you want to have sex? With me. The doctor mentioned it. Not that it was important for the implantation procedure, because it isn’t. Her point was I’m about to be pregnant and then I’ll have babies and little kids and it’s probably going to be a long time before a guy finds me the least bit desirable, assuming that even ever happens again. So having sex now, sort of a last fling, makes sense.”
She’d said most of that without drawing in a breath. She did so now, then stared at him, her hazel eyes wide and wary. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I have no idea what you think of me. I’m not hideous or anything, but it’s not like I have a plaque proving I’m really great in bed. I thought maybe it would fall under the pregnancy-buddy umbrella, but maybe not.”
She tilted her head. “Fall under the umbrella. Is that a mixed metaphor?”
She was asking him if he wanted to have sex with her and then had switched the conversation to grammar?
She stared at him with wide eyes. Hope fluttered there, along with a hint of apprehension. He would guess she was braced for rejection.
Sex with Pia? He definitely found her sexy and attractive, but he’d never planned to go further than looking. There were plenty of reasons not to do this—the biggest of which was they would be living in a very small town together. There wasn’t much room for awkward.
She bit her lower lip. The vulnerable movement hit him like a fist to the gut. Pia was pretty. The proud set of her shoulders, the faint glow on her cheeks. The way her brown curls tumbled to her shoulders.
He’d always been the kind of guy who tried to look past external appeal to the person inside. The fact that Pia was going to have someone else’s children, simply because she’d been asked, made her one of the best people he’d ever known. And he’d really liked the kisses they’d shared.
The idea of sex—no, making love—appealed more and more with every passing second. He knew this was a one-time deal. That after she had the babies, she would have other things on her mind. But something inside him told him a single night with Pia would be a night worth remembering.
He took a step toward her. “I did offer to be your pregnancy buddy,” he said quietly. “To do anything you asked, to take care of all your needs.”
“This isn’t exactly the same as running out for ice cream in the rain.”
He pulled her to her feet, then put his hands on her shoulders and stared into her eyes. “It’s a whole lot more fun than that.”
She swallowed. “You really don’t have to do this. I shouldn’t have asked. I don’t want you to feel pressured or like it’s—”
He leaned in and pressed his mouth against hers. The act cut off her words, which wasn’t a bad thing. Sometimes silence was better.
Her lips were soft and yielding. Tempting. Her arms wrapped around him. She was warm and slight, but tall enough that he didn’t have to bend too far to kiss her again. A good thing, because he found he liked kissing her and wanted it to go on for a good long time.
Pia had expected something of a discussion, or at the very least, ground rules on the whole pregnancy-buddy-sex thing.
Apparently not, she thought as Raoul’s warm mouth claimed hers. The kiss was both hungry and tender, his lips making her want to melt into his tall, strong body.
He held her against him, her body pressing against his. He was all broad shoulders and hard planes. He smelled as good as he looked—masculine, but clean. There was a slight rasp of stubble on his cheeks, but not so much that she minded.
It had been a long time since a man had swept her away, she thought as she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave herself over to his kiss. She slid her fingers through his dark hair. The short, layered strands felt like cool silk. He moved his hands down her body to her hips. One had slipped to her rear.
When he cupped the curve, squeezing gently, her stomach clenched. She surged closer, bringing her belly up against him. She was immediately aware of the hard thickness—proof that he wasn’t doing this out of pity. Thank God!
He touched his tongue to her bottom lip. She parted for him, then rested her fingers on his broad shoulders. He slid into her mouth, moving with slow, languid strokes designed to make her beg for more.