Smiling at her haste, Avery pulled his sweater over his head and dropped his jeans to the floor, kicking them aside. He got into bed and propped his head on his upturned hand to watch her undress. She was effortlessly sexy. Everything she did, every move she made, every word she said turned him on.

She removed her sweater, revealing the gentle swell of her abdomen and the breasts that were getting bigger by the day, much to her dismay.

He had no complaints. He loved her. He loved their life and the plans they’d made for the future. But goddamn if he didn’t still react to Sam Holland every fucking time he saw her. Today had been no different. What the hell was wrong with him? How could he be in love with a woman who was perfect for him in every possible way but still be drawn to someone he could never have?

He didn’t want to want Sam. He’d never wanted it, knowing all along she was permanently off limits to him. And yet... The reaction today was because he hadn’t seen her in a few weeks, or so he told himself. During that time, he’d barely given her a thought. He’d been too busy with his work and his life with Shelby to think about Sam. Yesterday he would’ve said he was well and truly over whatever he’d once felt for her.

Then he walked into her father’s home, she looked at him with those eyes that saw everything and, as always, he felt like he’d been struck by lightning. Why did that happen every time? Why, why, why? It wasn’t like he wanted to react to her. He didn’t. He wanted to put that madness in the past where it belonged. He wanted to focus on the life he had now with Shelby and the life they were anticipating with the baby. Nowhere in that life was there room for his fascination, or whatever you wanted to call it, with another woman. He’d gone so far as to wonder if he needed to be hypnotized or exorcised or something—anything—that would make it stop once and for all.

Shelby removed her jeans and panties, putting an extra wiggle in her motions for his benefit, and crawled into bed with him. The feel of her soft skin rubbing against his had an immediate and predictable effect on him.

She curled her hand around his erection. “Is this all for me?”

The question hit him like a gut punch. It was all for her. Of course it was. “You know it, sugar.”

“Mmm, that accent. You could read the phone book to me, and it would turn me on.”

“Is that so?”

“God, yes.” Tightening her grip, she stroked him the way he loved it best, her small hand moving quickly up and down his shaft.