Page 27 of Dirty-Talking Cowboy
“Looking at how huge I am.”
“You’re not huge. You’re pregnant. There’s a difference.”
“I’m definitely huge.” I turned to face him, gesturing at my stomach. “I can’t see my feet anymore. I had to ask you to tie my shoes this morning.”
“And I enjoyed every second of it.” He sat up. “Come here.”
I waddled over—there was no other word for how I moved these days—and let him pull me down to sit on his lap. One of his big hands immediately went to my belly, spreading wide, and I felt the baby kick in response.
“See?” he said, his mouth by my ear. “The baby knows it’s daddy.”
“The baby kicks me all the time. I don’t think it’s a recognition thing.”
“Sure it is. Our daughter knows her old man.”
We’d found out two weeks ago that we were having a girl. An expression I had never seen before had crossed Rhett’s face when we’d seen the ultrasound. In that moment, any lingering doubts I’d had about his love for me—for our child—had vanished like the morning mist.
“You know what I was thinking about?” I said, leaning back against him.
“What’s that?”
“About how different things are now. A year ago, I was terrified of you. I thought this big, bad land baron would gobble up my ranch and I’d never have a home of my own.” I had shared a little of my past with him and, like the man he was, he’d vowed never to let me feel that way again. His over protectiveness was something I loved so much about him.
He laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest into my back. “You were never terrified of me.”
“I was. You were so intense and bossy and you kept saying all those... things.”
“Those things?” His hands slid up from my belly to cup my breasts, which had gotten significantly larger with pregnancy. And so sensitive. He’d made me come last night just by sucking on them. “You mean like how I wanted to taste every inch of you? How I wanted to make you scream my name?”
Heat flushed through me despite my huge belly and swollen ankles. “Yes. Those things.”
“It’s called dirty-talking, darling.” He pinched my nipple, making me gasp. I told myself to focus, to not get side tracked by his touch. I’d been working up the courage to say this to him for weeks. I didn’t know if it was the pregnancy hormones or what. “Now I... I want to try.”
His hands stilled. “Try what?”
“Try talking like that. To you.” My face was already burning. “I want to be able to say the things you say to me.”
There was a pause, and then Rhett was laughing. Really laughing, his whole body shaking with it.
“Are you laughing at me?”
“I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing because you’re adorable.” He kissed my mouth. “And because I’ve been waiting for this.”
“You have?”
“Hell yes. Do you know how hot it was the night you asked me to give you a baby? My shy little virgin asking me to fill her up with my cum and knock her up?” His hands moved back to my belly. “Go ahead. Try it.”
I struggled to get up, but he held me in place. “As if,” I huffed.
“Easy. Now say what you’re thinking. What you want.” His voice dropped lower. “What you want me to do to you.” He nibbled on my ear. “Or better yet, what you want to do to me.”
Naturally his words brought me back to full on arousal. I took a deep breath. I could do this. I was a grown woman, married, pregnant with this man’s baby. I could tell him what I wanted.
“I want you to... to touch me.”
“Where?”
“You know where.”
