When he turns those eyes my way, there’s a shift in the room. It’s harder to breathe when he looks at me like he wants to strip me naked and do wicked things to my body. Of course, this isn’t exactly the right time or place, considering he’s feeding a baby. His baby.
Slowly, I make my way to the bed and carefully climb back in. The only sound in the room is the frantic suckling noise coming from the infant who eats like he’s afraid you’ll steal the food away if he doesn’t inhale it all in the first few seconds of feeding. But even with no other sound, I can feel his gaze like a caress to my bare skin.
Propping myself on my side, I lightly stroke the softness of his little cheek. He falters a bit when I touch him, but he keeps eating. Milo’s blue eyes are focused on me, his stare reminding me of his dad. When I glance up, I see the same intensity coming from Chase. “He has your eyes,” I whisper, moving my hand down to hold the baby’s.
Chase glances down at Milo, his features softening, and the slightest smile plays on his lips. “I guess he does. My whole family has those blue eyes. Colton and I both get them from my dad’s side of the family.”
“I like them,” I confess, moving my fingers to Chase’s bicep as I start to lazily trace the dark lines of his tattoos. “The color matches the blue here,” I add, lightly tapping my finger on the place where a few darker colors swirl together.
“I never really thought about it,” he says, his voice sounding a little husky and gravelly.
“That the color matches your eyes? You should. It’s a great color,” I tell him, the tips of my fingers dancing up his arm and rounding his shoulder. There’s more black ink here, snaking around to his collarbone and down and around to his back, and I can’t help but want to trace that too.
Chase growls beside me. “You keep touching me like that, and you’ll get an up-close look at some of it very soon.”
My eyes fly to his as I leisurely pull the pad of my thumb down to his pec, circling his nipple. Choosing to ignore his comment, and the impact it has on my lady parts, I opt with, “I’ve always wanted a tattoo.”
He glances down at his son before returning those blue orbs to me. “I’m honestly surprised you don’t have any. You’ve always been the risk-taker. I would have thought a tattoo or two would have been right up your alley.”
I shrug. Well, as best as I can with my head propped on my hand. “I guess needles really aren’t my thing. And the pain. I don’t really like to hurt.”
“No one does, Gabs. But it’s a temporary pain that’s actually a bit addictive. Most people say they only want one and end up getting more. There’s an adrenaline rush that comes with getting a tattoo. If you want one, I’ll go with you.”
“Maybe,” I whisper, noticing Milo’s eyes are closed and he’s no longer eating. “I think he’s out.”
Chase glances down and grins. “I think so. I wonder if I’ll get a burp out of him,” he whispers, setting the empty bottle on the nightstand and adjusting the baby so he’s positioned on his shoulder. Milo barely makes a sound as Chase starts to tap his back, evoking a loud burp from deep in his gut. The sweet sound of Chase’s chuckle never gets old. “I love it when he does that. Such a loud noise for such a little guy.”
Then, because my panties are practically useless already, he turns his head and places a tender kiss on the crown of his son’s head. My heart starts to gallop and the familiar wetness between my legs returns. There’s nothing better than a gorgeous man, loving on and adoring a baby.
Without needing direction, Chase slowly gets up from the bed and takes Milo to the playpen on the far wall. The moonlight through the shades reflects just enough light that I can watch his movements in the dark. He gingerly places a second kiss on his face and lowers him into the bed. I watch as he swaddles him in a soft receiving blanket, wrapping him nice and tight, just the way I showed him, before positioning the baby in the middle of the bassinet.
When he turns toward the bed, I can feel the instant change in the room. There’s an electricity that zips through the air, alive and full of fire, striking every single one of my nerve endings. He moves my way like a lion stalking to his prey. Air thickens in my throat, making it hard to breathe. I can see the whites of his eyes as he approaches the bed, their laser-like focus solely on me. When at the foot of the bed, he grabs the comforter and yanks. Goose bumps tickle my heated flesh as he devours my bare legs with his eyes.