“Nick,” I moaned, my breath catching as his fingers did something truly naughty. “We need to get . . . going.”
“We will,” he said, slipping his hand out from my bra. Instead of getting up, he pulled my shirt up and then hooked his fingers between the cups of my bra, tugging it down. He bit down on his lip as he stared at me. “Fucking beautiful.”
I watched him lower his head to the straining nipple, drawing it into his mouth, sucking deep. “Jesus.”
He chuckled, and the feeling reverberated through me. When he moved to my other breast, nipping at the sensitive skin then soothing the sting with his tongue, I knew leaving on time was going to be a lost cause.
“We need to get ready,” I told him, my chest rising and falling sharply as the ache between my thighs blossomed.
“Uh-huh.” He left my breast, kissing his way down to my navel. His tongue dipped in, and my hips jerked up. Before I knew it, he’d undone the button and zipper and he was inching them down my thighs. “It’s my turn.”
His mouth was on me in a heartbeat, and there was no tentative, slow start to his seduction. He didn’t just taste me. He didn’t just please me. He reveled in what he was doing.
“Yeah,” he murmured against my flesh. His tongue swept across my center, heightening the tension building in my core. “We are going to be so late.”
Needless to say, we were a good twenty minutes or so late getting to the restaurant, but my muscles were made of jelly and I was too blissed out to really care that my hair looked like I just rolled around on a bed.
Which was sort of what I had done.
Nick and I walked back to the large round table, and it wasn’t until I saw everyone did it really hit home how weird this dinner was going to be. When Calla invited us, I hadn’t thought anything about it, but now that I was seeing Jase and Cam sitting there, all I could think about was how awkward this could turn out. Nick knew I’d hooked up with them in some form or fashion, and obviously everyone at the table knew, and yeah . . . this was different.
I sat down beside Calla, forcing a smile. “Sorry we’re late. Traffic.”
“Traffic,” Calla mused with a sly grin. “Interesting, on Sunday night.”
Teresa, who was sitting next to Avery, tossed the long length of dark hair over her shoulder. “Don’t worry,” she said, winking. “Jase and I ran into . . . ‘traffic,’ too. Really heavy ‘traffic.’ ”
Jase’s eyes widened.
On the other side of Avery, sitting next to Nick, Cam’s face contorted with disgust in response to his sister’s words. “Come on, man. I don’t want to even picture that in my head.”
Placing her hand over her mouth, Avery smothered her giggle but asked, “How heavy was that ‘traffic’ exactly?”
Teresa opened her mouth, but Jase spoke up, “Please, dear God, don’t answer that question. I really don’t want Cam punching me again.”
I laughed as Teresa narrowed her eyes at her older brother. “If he lays one hand on you, that baby is going to be the last Cam can produce.”
“Oh dear,” Calla murmured.
Beside her, Jax leaned back in his chair and eyed Nick. “They are always like this, by the way.”
“Can’t take my sister anywhere,” Cam replied, grinning when her glare turned deadly.
“More like I can’t take you anywhere.” Avery elbowed him as she smiled across the table at me. “How are you feeling?”
All the eyes landed on me, and I resisted the urge to squirm in my seat. “I’ve been doing good. It’s been an . . . easy pregnancy so far.”
“She’s been really tired,” Nick cut in.
A look of sympathy crossed the little redhead’s face. “Oh God, same here. I think I finally got to the point where I sort of feel normal, but now I feel like I’m carrying a basketball around.”
“It’s a soccer ball,” Cam corrected, leaning over and brushing his lips across her forehead. “A beautiful soccer ball.”
I eyed her. “You don’t look like you’re carrying a soccer ball.” Actually, she looked like she had the last time I’d seen her.
Avery’s eyes lit up. “Thank you for that, but that’s only because I’m sitting down.”
“Stand up,” Teresa urged as Jase reached over, curving his hand around the nape of her neck.
She pushed back her chair and stood, and yep, there was no mistaking that Avery was clearly pregnant. Her pale blue sweater was tight, stretching across a very well-defined bump. She framed her stomach with her hands. “As you can see, a soccer ball.”
I laughed. “That is not the size of a soccer ball.”
“Maybe a deflated one,” Jase commented.
Avery giggled as she sat back down. Immediately, Cam draped his arm around her shoulders. “It sure doesn’t feel that way.”
Nick’s gaze tracked from Avery to me and a soft smile appeared on his face. It took no leap of imagination to figure out that he was picturing me with a bump the size of a half-deflated soccer ball. And there was also no missing the look of complete anticipation in his gaze. He really wanted this baby.