Read The Phoenix Campaign (Grace Colton Book 2) for Free Online Page B

doesn’t just kiss me. He drinks me in. Soft touches of his lips and light flicks from his tongue turn into a teasing, then demanding dance. Our mouths twist, crush, taste and tangle. I feel my pulse race in my neck as his arms pull me tighter to his chest. Our bodies align perfectly.
    Hardness and softness.
    Cool touch and warmth.
    A gift and a demand.
    An apology. A question.
    I’m not ready to ask the question. And I need something cleverer than, What would you say if I told you we were going to be parents in seven months, and how do you really feel about it?
    “Why did you—?”
    “I’m sorry,” Jared whispers against my neck, his hands kneading up and down my spine. “I know Sasha’s pretty hardcore, but I thought it would be best for us. You know, to have that space to just focus on—”
    “Shut up. Shut up.” I stop his words with another kiss that spreads silence through the room for long seconds. When we break for air, I continue. “I’m here to apologize. You were trying to do your job. I was too touchy, too cranky, and I pushed you too hard. I’m sorry.”
    He chuckles, deep and rich, and I feel it through the vibrations of his chest. “Then we’re both sorry. And we’re both forgiven. Deal?”
    “Yes.”
    Jared’s teeth, sharp and white, nip a bit harder on my neck where it meets my shoulder. “Can I make you say that again?” His hands travel up my hips and under my blouse, circling my ribcage, making his intention clear.
    “Yes.”
    Jared leads me to his bedroom, pulls his body tight behind mine. His cock presses on the fly of his slacks and I push my ass back toward him, making him groan as he finds all my buttons and zippers.
    When our clothes lie in a pile on the floor, he spins me toward his chest, catching me in his arms. Skin to skin, chest to chest, I feel our breathing quicken with anticipation.
    “I wasn’t just angry at you for being stubborn. And ignoring my request to vet your speech.” Jared’s lips move across my bare skin on a path from neck to nipple.
    “I though we’d just forgiven each other?”
    “We have. For the fight about the speech. But there’s something else you’re holding back from me.”
    His teeth find my nipple, inflicting just enough pain that my back arches and I let out a startled noise. Something I’m holding back? How could he know?
    “I’m not.”
    “You’re not holding back? I think you are. Don’t think I don’t see it. I’m a man, but I’m not fucking blind to what’s happening in your body.”
    Holy shit. He knows I’m pregnant.
    Jared sucks my other breast into his mouth, his tongue laving over the nipple’s tip, and his hand moves between my legs, palming my folds, tracing where moisture spreads.
    “I know you, and I know your body. Do I have to name it?”
    I should answer him, but this exquisite torture—his mouth on my breast, his thumb working my clit, and a finger teasing my G-spot—makes words come slowly, as if appearing through a fog.
    He releases my nipple with a sharp nip and there’s fire in his eyes. “If you can’t be honest with me, at least be honest with yourself. Don’t scream and writhe like I’ve pushed you over the edge, when the truth is, you were faking it.”
    It takes a moment for that to register and my body stills as my brain processes Jared’s accusation.
    “I what?”
    “You faked it. You faked your orgasm. Last time we were intimate.” Jared’s voice vibrates with intensity, his expression ferocious, as if I’d committed a far more heinous crime.
    Then again, lying to your lover about what pleases you is a bit less dire than lying about a child. And yet relief floods me, knowing that Jared doesn’t know I’m pregnant, at least not yet.
    It gives me that little bit more time.
    To figure out his heart. To go to the doctor and be sure it’s real.
    “I’m sorry,” I whisper.
    “It’s not enough. I can’t be with you if I can’t be sure this is real. Between us.” He presses my