“You sure know how to gut a guy.”
I smirk. “My specialty.”
“Okay, so you’re not going to miss me. You’re actually thrilled I’m leaving.”
“Thrilled and thriving when you’re gone, that’s my motto.”
He slowly nods while he looks away. “In that case, I guess I won’t bother calling you at night, you know, since you’re thrilled and thriving and all.”
“Good,” I say. “Wouldn’t want to have to sit through your snooze fest of a diatribe. Thank you for doing me a favor.”
Now he turns to me, and with a shake of his head and a glint in his eyes, he says, “You know, you’re a real smart-ass.”
I flutter my lashes at him. “Aren’t you positively ecstatic you get to have a baby with me?”
“Oh, yeah.” He stands from the bed and moves over to his suit that’s strewn across the chair in the corner of the bedroom. Without even thinking twice, he slips his sweatpants off, revealing his black boxer briefs, and reaches for his black pants.
“Wow,” I say, holding my hand up to my eyes. “What do you think you’re doing there, fella?”
“Uh, getting changed. I have to wear a suit, you know that.”
Eyes still covered, I say, “There’s a perfectly fine bathroom right over there.”
“Yes, and you’ve seen me completely naked. In fact, my dick has been inside you. Therefore, you seeing me in my boxer briefs is G-rated at this point.”
I hear the telltale sound of a zipper, so I lower my hand and glance over at him. He’s facing the wall, so I’m granted a view of his backside. His taut back muscles seem to tighten as they move closer to his ass, which, of course, is the perfect round shape from all those years skating up and down the ice. And his legs, which are thicker than the average man’s, are encased by his tight suit pants.
He slips his black dress shirt over his upper half and then turns toward me, and my tongue nearly falls out of my mouth from the sight in front of me. He’s hunched over ever so slightly to button up the shirt, causing his abs to ripple in the most delicious way possible.
When he looks up at me, I’m met with a devilish grin. “Getting a good show?”
Yes.
But he doesn’t need to know that.
I chuck a pillow at him and then fling myself back on the bed. “You wish. Nothing I haven’t seen before.”
“Uh-huh, and that’s why you were covering your eyes a moment ago.”
“Because I’m a lady, and I’m sorry if I don’t want to be blinded by your man-thigh.”
“My legs aren’t that white.”
“Okay, sure, they’re not that white, Hornsby.”
I hear him walk over to me, rounding the bed until he’s just above me, tucking his shirt in. “It’s Eli.”
I gulp.
Because the way he just said that, all deep and serious, while wearing this black ensemble, makes me swallow my tongue and want to beg for more.
Trying to mask the overwhelming thudding of my heart, I say, “Oh, here I thought it was Elijah.”
Once again, he shakes his head at me. “Smart-ass.” He puts his shoes on and a deep blue velvet jacket with black lapels.
He adjusts his cuffs and then holds his arms out. “How do I look?”
Really.
Fucking.
Good.
Lickable.
Suckable.
Fuckable.
I plaster on a smile and offer him a thumbs up. “Matching.”
“Matching?” He raises a brow at me. “That’s all you have to say? I’m matching?”
“Takes a noble man to be able to mix textures like you.” I offer him a golf clap. “Well done, dear sir.”
His quizzical brow grows higher. “You’re acting weirder than usual. What’s going on?”
“Nothing is going on,” I say over the roar of my escalating pulse. “Everything is normal over here.”
He still eyes me. “Why don’t I believe you?”
“Trust issues, perhaps?” I hop off the bed, and I reach for his bag to help him, but he’s quickly at my back, taking the bag from me. “Hey, I can help.”
“You’re pregnant. You’re not lifting anything.”
“Uh, I lifted a donut to my mouth yesterday. Where were you then, huh?”
“You are something else right now.” He moves down the hallway toward the living room, where he sets his bag down and turns toward me. “I’m slightly nervous about leaving you in this sort of state.”