Page 98 of Wicked Love

I stand up and she takes my hand, leading me to her room. She crawls into bed and I sit on the edge and start to read in my best animated voice. When the story ends, she smiles drowsily up at me.

“You live with us too,” she says.

“Uh,” I shake my head, “I live at my house.”

I hear something and turn back to see Bowie standing by the door, arms folded, and my heart twists in ways I can’t describe.

“You live with us,” Becca whispers.

“Night-night, sweet girl,” I say as I lean down and press a gentle kiss to her forehead.

Bowie’s eyes are heated as I walk past him. He goes over to tell Becca good night and then follows me out. When we’re out in the hall, he takes my hand and tugs me toward his room. Once we’re inside, he closes the door and then presses me against it.

“Poppy,” he says huskily. “What are you doing to me?”

“What do you mean?”

“How are you doing this? You’re burrowing into me like a persistent whisper I can’t stop hearing,” he breathes, his voice taut with emotion. “Your goodness is,” his forehead rests against mine, the warmth of his breath fanning across my cheek, “consuming me. Your beauty. Your gentleness with Becca. The way you feel in my arms.”

Sometimes when he speaks, I hear the slightest bit of an accent like his mom’s.

I can feel the tremor in his chest, as if his heart’s pounding as desperately as mine. His hands tighten at my waist.

“I can’t think straight when I’m near you, and I can’t think straight when I’m not.”

I swallow, overcome by the honesty in his voice, the vulnerability in his eyes. “Bowie,” I whisper.

I lift my hand to his cheek, uncertain of whether I should soothe him or kiss him.

“I’m terrified,” he admits. His gaze drops to my mouth, then rises again, locking on my eyes. “And I don’t want it to stop.”

My breathing is shaky as I inhale and exhale. “Do you think you’re feeling more because…I’m pregnant?” I whisper.

“I’ve thought of it nearly nonstop since you told me. I’ve had a whole slew of worries about the baby…except for tonight. All I’ve thought tonight is that I want to come up with more reasons for you to be here…because you’re so fun, and a bright spot in this house that doesn’t need another woman in it…but I’d do anything to haveyouin it…” His expression is shamed when he looks at me again. “I haven’t thought of the baby once.”

I giggle and he rears back to get a better look at my face.

“That’s funny?”

“A little. You don’t have to think about the baby nonstop. And I don’t mind atallthat you’re thinking about me.”

“If you knew how much I think about you, you’d probably run.”

My brow creases and I try not to beam. “Um, no? Tell me more.”

His lips lift and he leans in, his mouth brushing against mine.

“God, you taste so good,” his voice is a low murmur, each word landing like a soft caress. “Yousmellso good.”

He presses another slow, deliberate kiss to the corner of my mouth.

“Everything about you is so sweet. Your laugh, your smile...”

He moves to my cheek and then my ear. Between each press of his lips, his voice is low and intimate. A craving builds inside me until I’m trembling.

“You’re so beautiful. So goddamn beautiful.”

His lips trail back to mine, lingering there. I get lost in his kiss and then he trails back to my ear.

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