Soon that would change. There would be things the baby needed, and I’d have to figure out a way to buy them—not that Nixon wouldn’t help me. I knew he would. But I didn’t want it to all fall on him. He needed a partner, someone who challenged him as much as helped him, not a free-loader looking for a handout.
“Am I on that list yet?” Nixon asked so casually I almost missed the weight to the question.
I glanced up at him as we walked, squeezing his hand. “After a treat like this, I’m likely to put you on whatever list you want.”
Nixon chuckled, shaking his head.
“What?” I asked when he didn’t let me in on the joke.
“It’s just funny,” he said. “That this is your treat.” He motioned to the bustling market. “When most girls in the past only wanted me to take them to Fendi or Louie for a day trip.”
I scrunched my nose. “Everyone has different tastes.”
He nodded. “True,” he said. “I don’t mind the finer things. But I don’t live for them either.”
“You do wear the hell out of an Armani suit,” I said. “But, I prefer you in Raptor purple and gold.”
Nixon pinched my hip. “You prefer the tights.”
I squealed at his play-assault, and smacked his butt like I was telling him to have a good game. “Who doesn’t love the tights?”
Nixon tucked me in close as we continued to peruse the market, and I leaned my head against his chest as we walked. “There is no way I’m going to top this tonight,” I said, sighing slightly.
“What?” he asked. “You were so sure it would beat my date earlier.”
“Well, yeah,” I said. “That was before you got all perceptive on me and nailed my happy place.”
A wide grin stretched across his mouth. “I’ll love whatever you have planned tonight.”
“We’ll see,” was all I could say.
Another hour at the market, and we’d left—me with nothing, Teagan with some new fabric for curtains, Roman with a vintage abstract canvas Teagan had helped him select, and Hendrix…well, Hendrix left with a brunette bombshell, and we hadn’t heard from him since.
Roman took Teagan back to her place, and Nixon and I went home, showered and changed, and were back on the road after a quick dinner, heading toward the date I’d had planned for him. After this morning, though, I worried it wouldn’t compare.
The outdoor venue was already packed, hundreds of locals covering the wide expanse of lush green grass spread before a massive stage.
“No way,” he said as we found a place near the back that was less crowded but offered a perfect view of the stage. “Royal Tusk,” he said, his eyes wide as he gazed down at me. “How did you know I loved them?”
I blew out a breath. “You’re always blaring it during your workouts. Especially that one song…” I chewed on my lower lip, searching my brain for the name of the song. “Aftermath?”
Nixon nodded before he scooped me up, lifting me off the ground to bring me to his level. “You’re incredible,” he said and crushed his lips on mine. “I didn’t know you were paying that much attention.”
I raked my fingers through his hair, never losing his gaze. “I want to know you, Nixon. In every way I can. Of course, I’m paying attention.”
Something heavy churned in his eyes, and emotion clogged my throat. His mention earlier today of the women in his past wanting to go to expensive places or use him for a status on a social media page or his ex trying to trap him with a baby that wasn’t real. Was that all he’d known? No wonder he’d been so harsh and distant when I’d first came to him.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice a whisper between us as he slid me down his body and faced us toward the stage.
I squeezed his hand as the opening act fired up, and I only let it go when Royal Tusk finally took the stage, and Nixon went wild with cheering. He nodded his head to the beat, mouthed the words to the songs, and constantly made sure we were touching in some way as we lost ourselves to the music.
And by the time we made it back to the car, my head was buzzing—that state between excitement and exhaustion. Before I knew it, Nixon was hauling me out of the car, cradling me to his chest as he walked us into his home.
“I’m sorry,” I said through a yawn as he laid me on the bed.
“For what?” he whispered.
“Falling asleep. I didn’t mean to.”
“Not only did we go all day at the market this morning, and all night at the concert, but you’re growing a human inside you, Lib. I’m pretty sure you’re entitled to fall asleep wherever you want.”
I reached for him, too tired to push off the luscious bed he’d dropped me on. He hurried out of his clothes, stripping down to nothing but a pair of tight but soft boxer briefs, and suddenly I was very much awake.
I did the same with my clothes as he came around to settle behind me, his usual spot for the night. “No T-shirt tonight?” he asked as I tossed my clothes on the floor, leaving me in nothing but my bra and panties.
I shook my head. “Too tired to get up for one,” I said, though grabbing one of his tees did sound tempting. I’d taken to sleeping in nothing but that, relishing the feel of the softest cotton against my skin. The fact that the shirts were drenched in his scent was an added bonus.
“I’d get one for you,” he said, nuzzling the back of my neck with his nose. His hand slid over my hip to pull my spine against his chest, and I reached behind me to grip his neck.
“Don’t you dare move,” I said.
He planted soft kisses along the seam of my neck, and I arched against him, shuddering slightly at the hard feel of him against my backside.
“Liberty,” he whispered. “You can go back to sleep.”
“Like hell,” I teased and arched again.
He hissed but pulsed against me as his fingers trailed lower, slipping beneath the slick fabric covering me. I shifted slightly to give him better access, my heart ratcheting up the more he swept his fingers so close to where I wanted him but just missing it. On purpose. The cocky man knew how quickly I was ready for him, how instantly I melted for him.
Two could play that game. I moved my hand from his neck, shifting so I could grip his hard length behind me. His cock twitched as I teased him lightly with sweet scraps of my nails along his head.
“Liberty,” he growled, then plunged his fingers between my thighs. Right where I wanted him, the sensitive flesh aching for his warmth, his strength. “You’re drenched for me,” he said, and I squeezed his cock in answer.
“Looks like we’re on the same page,” I whispered, my breaths quick as he pumped his fingers inside me. I rocked on his hand, seeking out the pressure he kept just out of reach. Teasing me, winding me up until my entire body ached for him. He kissed up my neck, along the edge of my jaw, and back down over my bare shoulder, his lips warm and hungry and blazing a trail of flames along my skin.
I moaned as he continued to tease me like we had all the time in the world, and I suppose, right now, we did. But I wanted him. Now.
I shifted away from him enough to slide my panties down and toss them on the floor. Then I turned on my knees for a moment to rid him of his as well. He watched me take off his briefs with a contented sort of smirk, and I threw them over my shoulder. I returned to my original position, my back to his chest, and guided his hand back to my center.