Page 61 of Into the Dark
He looks at me as if this is possibly the last thing he expected me to say. “Meet your parents.”
“Yes. I want you to meet them. I want them to meet you.”
He swallows. “You’re serious?”
“Entirely. Well, I’ve already asked you to move in with me. This seems reasonable.” I’m also pregnant with your child. “I mean, even if you did turn me down. But I don’t like to dwell on the dark shit, as you know.” I wink. “But yes, I’d like for them to meet you.”
His beautiful mouth turns up into a warm smile, and he lowers his fork. “If you want me to meet them, then I’ll meet them.”
“Good. I’ll arrange something for when you’re back.”
It’s quiet for a few seconds before Jake lets out a loud exhale. “Fucking hell, your dad is going to hate me, isn’t he?”
I smile, unable to quite believe that of everything going on in our lives right now he’s worried about my dad not liking him. I shake my head slowly. “Don’t worry, my dad doesn’t hate anyone. Well, except Putin. Mum is who you should worry about—she’s impossible. And Nick. He’s the template of an overprotective older brother.” I shoot him a grimace.
“Fuck, I think I just lost my appetite.” He rubs his abdomen and pushes his plate away, sitting back in his chair.
“I’ll protect you, I promise.”
“Thanks, baby. That makes me feel really masculine.”
I laugh, and his expression softens. “Well, I’m sorry I killed your appetite. It was a beautiful meal, really. Thank you, househusband.”
Jake laughs. “Speaking of appetites—how’s yours? Seems better.”
“It is. Must have been a forty-eight-hour thing. I’m fine.” I wave my hand in dismissal. “So, when do you have to leave?”
“I said I’d be there in a couple of hours.” He sighs.
“So then we still have time… And since I won’t see you for a whole day and night…”
He shakes his head but definitely looks intrigued. “You’re sex fucking mad.”
“Well, I suppose we could test out the whole ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ theory,” I suggest. I shrug, but my heartbeat speeds up inexorably at the hot look in his eye.
He slides his chair back. “Nah, fuck that shit.” He stands up from the table and moves around it toward me. He bends over, lowering his head to my neck and kissing the column from my shoulder up to my ear. “Down here or upstairs?” he asks between soft kisses. “Personally, I think we ought to mix it up a bit. Don’t want you getting bored of me.”
I gasp a little as he bites me gently, growling soft against my throat. Then his hands are on my breasts, moving roughly over the thin lace material of my vest. He caresses them with warm, needy hands before circling and tugging at my nipples. I breathe out a moan.
“I could never get bored of you. C’est impossiblè.” The heat between my legs increases, an urgent pulse that quickens for him.
“Fuck, I just found my new turn-on,” he groans.
“Baise-moi s’il te plait…’
“Yeah, we’re not gonna make it upstairs.” He pulls me up out of the chair and crushes me to his chest then tugs roughly on the loose fabric of my pants, pulling them down. I didn’t wear underwear as I dressed after the bath, and the look in his eye tells me it’s appreciated.
His breathing is fast now and his eyes hot with need as he nudges me backward into the worktop, his tongue slipping out of his mouth to skim over his lips.
“Well, okay then. I suppose we haven’t done anything naughty in the kitchen for a long time…” I point out.
The sound of him unbuckling his belt makes something hot and wet flood between my legs, and he hooks both hands under my butt to lift me up onto the worktop with graceful ease.
“Naughty?” He smirks. “I was thinking filthy. Hard and rough and fucking filthy.”
I moan as I drop my mouth to his neck, where he smells deeply masculine and mouthwateringly good. So good. His lips and beard are rough as he drags them down my throat to my breasts, which he sucks at through the thin material covering them.
“But you just cleaned up,” I gasp.