LA Baby ♡ Manhattan Dreams Sequel

27. Old Friends

I don't think that I can ever go back to grocery shopping. I'm far too spoiled. I woke this morning craving waffles, throwing Josh so off kilter that he called Shawn to make sure cravings were a real thing, and after a riveting conversation he had given in and ordered the ingredients. Now, he was sitting on the couch across from me while I shoveled food into my mouth. "You hate waffles" he repeats for the millionth time. I shrug.

"Apparently the baby loves them" I reply, taking another bite. I swore nothing had ever tasted better.

He hums in response, sipping his coffee. "Have you had any other cravings or is this the first one?" He asks quizzically, placing his coffee on the table in front of us.

"I don't really know. I've been hungrier but this is the first time that I felt overcome by my want of something specific." I put down my fork when my plate is empty and set it onto the table. "I promise that once the baby is born I will go back to loving pancakes, okay?" He nods, spreading his legs out across the couch and thus, kicking me. I glare at his feet.

"Um excuse you" I exclaim, shoving his feet away from me. "I'm sitting here."

"Sit somewhere else" he replies, kicking my thigh. I glare at him now, my lips pursing into a thin line. The man was testing me. And lucky for him, waffles weren't the only thing I was craving.

I concede, moving to straddle his lap. He reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and his hand lingers on my cheek. "You're so damn gorgeous" he mutters, lifting his lips to meet mine. I return the kiss, biting on his lip to urge him to allow me entry and immediately his mouth opens to mine ripping a moan from the back of my throat.

The kiss becomes more urgent, our lips fumbling as our hands start pulling at each other's clothes. His shirt is first and then mine, a slight pause following as he caresses the curve of my hips, trailing his hand to my stomach. "You can't really tell yet." I say, looking down at him marveling my belly.

"A little bit" he argues, "these jeans used to be too big on you, you had to wear a belt" he recalls, trailing his hand to the button holding them closed. "Pregnancy suits you" he adds, popping the button. "From your hips," his hands trail back to my waist, "to these." He reaches up to cup my breasts, squeezing them in his hands. I throw my head back in pleasure, "and you're skin is glowing" he mutters, leaning in and placing his lips between the valley of my breasts. I hold his head there, reveling in the feel of his soft lips as they press against my skin.

His name slips past my lips before I tilt his head back up to kiss him properly, my hands busy undoing his jeans when the phone rings. I groan, trying to distract him with my lips, my hands hastily pushing his jeans down his legs.

The phone keeps ringing. "Babe-."

"No" I whine, kissing him between arguments. "Please. I want you" I tell him, looking him dead in the eyes. I hoped that begging would help my case.

The phone again. "Maya-." That was it. No hope. He had used my name. I wasn't babe or Penelope. I wasn't getting any.

"Dammit" I mutter, climbing off him and letting him go to his phone. He answers it without hesitation, bringing it to his ear.

"Hello?" I can only hear his side of the conversation so it goes a lot like, "Yea. No. I guess. Do we have to? Yea. Okay. See you later." And then he hangs up and looks at me in that way that lets on that he knows that whatever he's about to say is going to make me upset. "That was the band."

"The band?"

"Yea. They uh saw the article and know that you're in town. They wanna go out tonight and they aren't taking no for an answer." I groan, falling back among the couch cushions.