She lifted an eyebrow at him. “The way I heard it from you?”
His gaze shifted to his hand, which was resting—none too restfully—on his knee. “I told you about the situation.”
“Only because someone else mentioned it.”
He so did not want to argue with her. “Do you really want to talk about this now?”
“Would you rather talk about wanting a vasectomy?”
“No.”
“Adam, I know it’s hard for you to open up, but if we’re going to make a life together—”
He silenced her with a kiss, his lips lingering on hers until she melted against him. His hand slid up her thigh, stopping just short of touching her pussy. He was a bit afraid of what he’d do once he proved her claim of exposure with his questing fingertips. She groaned in his mouth, and he tugged his lips free of hers.
“If you really want to talk right now…” he murmured, rubbing his nose down the side of her neck.
Madison shook her head and whispered, “No, I really want to drag you back to the tour bus.”
“And do what?” he asked.
Her breath tickled his ear when she said, “Worship every inch of your cock.”
“With your hands?”
“Yes.”
He could practically feel the gentle touch of her fingertips against his sensitive flesh, and his dick jumped with excitement.
“And my lips,” she said, brushing a feather-light kiss against his neck.
He remembered well what those full lips felt like on his cockhead, kissing and sucking and teasing him to the point of madness.
“And your tongue?” he pressed, lost in fantasy land despite the crowd in the room.
“Of course,” she whispered. “But I mostly want to bury you deep in my—”
The delicious promise of her words was cut off by the arrival of warmed over Cajun food. It was actually a blessing in disguise. Maybe he could get his lust under control if he stuffed his mouth with something other than her tongue and kept his hands occupied somewhere other than beneath her skirt.
Adam practically leapt from the couch before he lost every shred of his willpower, dragged Madison to the nearest corner, and fucked her brains out. He offered her a hand to help her to her feet, but she wasn’t looking at him. Her gaze was trained on the bathroom door.
“Aren’t you hungry?” he asked.
“A little,” she said, still watching the door. “I need to use the restroom. I’ll join you in a moment.”
Adam watched her purposefully cross the room. She’d better not be going in there to work out her sexual frustration on her own, because if she did, he’d make her regret that decision all night long.
Chapter Five
Madison eased the bathroom door open and peered inside. Her gaze landed on the pretty blonde with the enormous belly who was using the mirror to apply lip gloss—probably so she could lure Owen into kissing her. Though Madison had intentionally come to the restroom to corner the woman and get her side of the story, she tried not to gawk at her distended abdomen. It was an exercise in futility. What if the baby belonged to Adam? What if this bitch got to have his child and Madison was never afforded the same opportunity? She couldn’t believe Adam had never mentioned his aversion to kids before. They never really talked about the important things in life. Everything between them was all frivolous and fun. And she was perfectly okay with that for now. But in a couple years she might want to settle down, have a few kids, and then what? She couldn’t picture Adam in domesticated bliss. At all. What would a future with him look like?
Madison stepped up to the second sink and washed her hands, watching Lindsey in the mirror. She didn’t know what she expected the pregnant woman to look like—a giant, walking vagina capable of engulfing six cocks in a single bound? a filthy dumpster with a CUM logo painted boldly on the front?—but she looked deceptively innocent and normal, with wide blue eyes and an angelic face. She couldn’t be much over twenty years old. Madison wanted to hate her, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to do so. She didn’t exactly pity her either. Lindsey had spread her legs willingly—Madison assumed—and repeatedly. The woman had to know that pregnancy was always a possibility even if the sex was merely recreational.
Lindsey noticed Madison trying to glare a hole through her reflected tummy and she lowered her arm, rubbing her lips together to spread the gloss evenly. She no longer had Owen to cling to, since she’d had to release his arm long enough to enter the women’s restroom. Even Jordan had restrained himself from following her in here. Alone for the first time since Madison had laid eyes on her, Lindsey looked particularly vulnerable as she fumbled to get her lip gloss in her bag so she could get out of the bathroom as quickly as possible.
Lindsey’s lip gloss missed her bag and bounced off the tile floor before scuttling into a stall. She didn’t bend to retrieve it. Wary eyes on Madison, Lindsey headed for the door. She pressed her back against the wall and slid toward the exit, keeping as much distance between herself and Madison as possible. She acted as if she thought Madison had an incurable infectious disease or was going to beat her to death or something.
Madison couldn’t let the opportunity to talk to the woman in private pass her by. She hurried to block her exit. Standing in front of the door, Madison turned to face her and lifted both hands in front of her chest to get Lindsey to stop.
The woman flinched and shied away. Weird.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Madison said and lowered her hands. “I just want to talk to you.”
“Punch me in the face, you mean?” she said.
“No, just talk. Has someone punched you?” Madison asked. Lindsey’s behavior was setting off all kinds of warning bells. Madison might no longer have a job as a counselor, but she couldn’t shut off the instincts.
“No one here,” Lindsey said, “but I keep expecting someone to.”
“So someone did hit you? Who was it?”
Lindsey bit her lip and lowered her eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it. Did you need something from me?”
Madison wondered if Lindsey realized she was slowly backing away. She obviously felt threatened.
“I just want to talk.”
Lindsey gazed longingly at the blocked door. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
“Adam and I—”
“I don’t think it’s his,” she said hastily, her arms tightening around her belly.