“Axel,” I groaned, “almost there. Oh. God. Ax.” My legs began to tremble as my hips lifted from the bed. Just a couple more swipes, and I would be there.

And then his phone rang. Axel stopped, and my hips dropped to the mattress. Fuck. He glanced toward the nightstand and then back at me. “Ignore it,” he said, lowering his head once more as his phone continued to trill. Not much annoyed me more than an incessantly ringing phone, but I tried to tune it out.

“Shit. I lost it,” I told him, referring to my almost-there orgasm.

The stupid phone finally stopped ringing, and he smiled gently up at me. “Trust me. I’ll get you back there, my sweet girl.” He started again, and I closed my eyes, trying to concentrate on his magnificent, strong tongue.

And the phone rang. Again. “Fuuuck,” I groaned, fumbling over to silence it without even looking. At that point, I think we both knew I wasn’t going to have one of the elusive the thing orgasms tonight, so Axel pushed two fingers inside me, curling them forward slightly.

“Let’s try it like this,” he said, sucking my clit into his mouth. At that point, I was desperate for any kind of orgasm I could get.

“Yeah, that’s good,” I said as Ax’s free hand slid up my body to cup my breast and tug at my nipple.

The phone started ringing for the third time, and I quiet-screamed in frustration as I snatched the phone off the nightstand and looked at the screen. Milan. “It’s her,” I said, my challenging glare meeting his eyes. I lost the challenge in spectacular fashion when he actually took the goddamn phone from me and fucking answered it.

“Yeah. Hello? No, it’s okay. You’re not bothering me.” I lay there in stunned silence. You’re not bothering me? Did he really just fucking say that? With my arousal still glistening on his lips and his fingers? And with my orgasm situation still horribly unresolved?

Well, at least he got to come, I thought bitterly. He wiped his fingers and mouth on the bedsheet as he rolled off the bed. “Okay, okay. Don’t worry. I’ll be right there.”

Axel hung up and started pulling on clothes. “Axel, where the hell are you going?” I demanded.

“Milan said she had some spots of blood in her underwear,” he said, struggling in his haste to get his jeans on.

“She needs you to check her underwear?”

“Of course not, Blaire.”

“Well, has she called her OB?”

“No, she wants me to take her to the ER.”

“She needs to call her obstetrician. He or she can let her know what to do. I can get her in with someone here in the morning. Spotting is not uncommon, though.”

“You don’t understand, Blaire. She needs to go to the ER!” he cried like I was some uneducated idiot.