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"Time to shower, baby," he says, his eyes dark and heated as they run over me.
I stumble after him, my legs weak and my mind reeling. The thought of having his baby has a whirlwind of thoughts and questions racing through my head.
Is he really trying to get me pregnant or was he just messing with me? He sounded like he meant it, but with him, it's hard to tell. Half the time, I'm convinced he says half of what he does just to rile me up. The other half, I think he means every word. That damn cocky smirk makes it impossible to tell when he's being serious. He wears it like armor.
I watch him as he gets the shower going, trying to figure him out—to pinpoint if this is one of those times he's being serious or if he was just screwing with me. The thought of having his kid makes me ache in ways I can't put to words, makes me ache for something I never imagined possible.
I want it, I realize. So damn badly I can taste it.
"I can hear you thinking from all the way over here, Toto."
"Gee, I wonder why," I mutter, blinking at him.
He chuckles, reading my thoughts as if they were written on my face as he holds his hand out to me. I take it, allowing him to pull me into the shower. Steam billows around us, shutting out the world as his arms close around me.
"We both know you want it just as fuckin' badly as I do, princess," he murmurs, tipping my head back until my eyes meet his. That cocky smirk is out in full force, but this time, I see the truth painted in his eyes—the desire. He means what he said. His thumb brushes my nipple, his eyes turning dark. "You wouldn't keep letting me in that perfect body without a condom if you didn't."
He's right, damn him. But I'm not telling him that. Not when he's smirking at me like that.
"Whatever," I huff instead, rolling my eyes.
He strikes like a snake, pushing me up against the wall of the shower. Water cascades down on us as he presses his hard body to mine.
"Oh, Toto," he breathes, one hand wrapped around my throat while the other slides down my slick skin. "You really shouldn't have rolled those pretty eyes at me. Now, you're going to pay for it."
Oh, crap…
I swallow hard, my heart racing.
"Memphis, we don't have time for this," I try to reason with him, my tone a mix of defiance and desperation. There's no way I can come again.
"Time? Baby, we've got all the time in the world. I own the fucking bar," he teases, drawing slow circles on my thigh, dangerously close to where I ache for him. "Besides, I like it when you get all feisty and think you get a say in what I do to this pretty body."
"Feisty?" I snort, tipping my head back in a show of stubborn defiance. "You haven't seen feisty yet, Memphis Hughes."
"Is that a challenge, Toto?" His grin is pure wickedness, making my heart race even faster.
"Maybe," I say, refusing to back down. "Or maybe I'm just tired of your shit."
"Oh, now you've done it," he murmurs, his fingers tightening around my throat. My breath hitches, arousal coursing through me in a flood. "You know what happens when you push me too far, don't you?"
"Enlighten me," I manage to choke out, my eyes locked on his.
"Nu-uh. That's for me to know, and you to find out," he whispers, his lips brushing against my ear.
His words send shivers of anticipation down my spine, and I can't help but wonder what I've gotten myself into this time with this crazy man. But as much as I hate to admit it, I can't wait to find out.
The sun casts long shadows across the pavement as Memphis pulls up to the bar, his motorcycle rumbling beneath me. He's been quiet and tense since he got off the phone with Jessup after our shower, and I can't help but notice the tension in his jaw.
I'm not sure if something is going on with the bar, or if the weight of his memories still press down on him. But he's obviously lost in thought, unhappy with wherever they seem to be leading him.
"I'm not coming in with you, Toto," he says. "I've got some shit I need to handle."
"Oh." Disappointment fills me at the news. He's been here every night since the bar fight. I've gotten used to his presence. "Is everything okay?" I ask.
"Yeah, baby. Everything is fine."
I know he's lying as soon as he says it. He's not very good at it.
