Shame spiraled through me as I realized how hellishly inappropriate it all was. I’d seen his joint. For all I knew, he was high as a kite, and I’d taken advantage of him in his altered state.

Earlier wasn’t the nightmare.

This is the nightmare.

He kept going like he could read my growing freak-out, even in the dim lighting. “I’m not fucked up, Mac. Only had half a drink and barely had a hit before you came over. And I’m fuckin’ glad you did. Left the gate open, hoping you would. But when I take you, finally fuckin’ feel you, I don’t want any of my senses dulled. Not even a little. Got it?”

I didn’t. Not at all.

But I nodded anyway. I just wanted to get the hell out of there and pretend it never happened.

Maybe move again.

I’d heard Bermuda had a lovely triangle I could disappear into.

My ego crash went from disastrous to completely devastating when Ward lifted me off him.

Okay, sure, I wanted to go. I’d been trying to stand so I could flee to the safety of creepy bears and too much lace.

But I didn’t want him to want me to leave.

It didn’t make any sense, but impulsive reactions rarely did.

Before I could slink away in disgrace and horniness, my body was turned, and I was on his lap again. That time, my back was to Ward’s front.

“I won’t fuck you tonight,” he rumbled in my ear—a reminder I didn’t particularly want to hear, “but if you think I’m letting you leave before I make you come all over my fingers, you’re outta your damn mind.”

That?

That I was happy to hear.

His lips, teeth, and tongue teased my neck as his hands slid under my top. Working both breasts at once, he alternated his deft fingers, one soft and light while the other pinched and flicked. It was a maddening rhythm, keeping me on edge as the sensations mixed until I was overwhelmed, oversensitive, overstimulated, and overhorny.

It wasn’t a real word, but that didn’t stop me from feeling it.

I tried to clench my thighs, needing contact. Friction. Anything to ease the pressure. But Ward hooked my legs over his before spreading them, robbing me of any relief.

By the time one of his palms smoothed down my swollen stomach, I was already too far gone to care. There was a brief, foggy thought. A tiny flare of panic. But before it could infiltrate the lust, Ward’s hard cock ground into my ass—physical proof that he found me attractive.

That my pregnancy wasn’t unappealing, unsexy, or worse, repulsive.

His hand went to my knee before skimming up my thigh, bypassing where I needed him most.

Closer.

Closer.

Closer.

And then the jerk lifted his hand to play with my nipple.