Free With Honor by Rhonda Lee Carver

burger, a load of fries, and a piece of chocolate cake. She was content until she didn’t feel so well. On the drive back to the house, Jasmine started feeling worse. Her stomach churned and she had a strong urge to throw up the two-thousand calorie dinner she’d just pounded away.
    Shane kept looking at her across the seat on the drive home. She wondered if he was more concerned about her health, or the possibility that she could vomit all over the clean leather seat of his Jeep.
    When they stepped through the front door of the house, Shane said, “I think you should lie down. You look ill.”
    Dizziness washed over her and she leaned against the wall for support. The next thing she knew, Shane was lifting her into his powerful arms and carrying her down the shadowed hallway into her bedroom. She didn’t give him one peep of objection. With careful tenderness he lowered her to the middle of the mattress. Once he started to move away, and before logical reasoning kicked in, she touched his arm. He looked down at her in question.
    Reaching up, she grabbed his shirt, tugging him down next to her. She wasn’t sure what had come over her, but she wanted to be close to him. “Stay,” she whispered.
    “Jasmine, I–” He steadied himself on elbows above her.
    No doubt a refusal was coming, but she didn’t give him a chance to voice it. She cut his words off with her lips, slipping her tongue past them. He tasted of beer and a hint of mint–an exhilarating combination. Seconds seemed to crawl by and he wasn’t responding. She thought he’d move away, but he didn’t. Then his hand came up to the back of her neck, and he threaded his long fingers into her hair. He plunged his tongue deep into her mouth.
    He covered her body with his, pressing her into the mattress. His chest pressed against her tender breasts and their hips connected. Jasmine rotated her bottom, circling them, arching to meet the growing bulge behind his zipper. He moaned and it sent tingles all over her body. Hearing his sweet groans of need excited her–empowering her. This was a kiss that she’d never experienced before.
    Wrangling his fingers deeper into her hair, he moved himself between her inner thighs. Rewarding him, she wrapped her legs around his waist and tugged him closer. The thick seam of his jeans rubbed her clit and prickles of heat consumed her moist center. On fire and full of need, she felt ready to explode. She wanted skin contact. Reaching underneath his shirt, she smoothed her hands across his toned stomach and over his broad chest. With a tip of one nail she flicked a hard nipple.
    In the growing darkness, she couldn’t see his expression but she felt his body tighten. He pulled back.
    “Shane? What’s wrong?”
    He lifted himself completely away from her and sat on the edge of the bed.
    Jasmine reached over and clicked on the bedside lamp. His face was buried in the palms of his hands. “Talk to me” she said.
    “We can’t do this.” He didn’t look at her.
    Laying a hand on his shoulder, she felt him flinch. “Why? We’ve done this before.” Confusion clouded her mind. He’d been as turned on. She’d felt it.
    Jasmine watched his profile. His eyes were steady on the wall. He looked like he carried the world on his shoulders. She removed her hand and laid it in her lap. Her fingers were trembling.
    “I can’t let this happen,” he said.
    Painful emotion climbed her chest. “If it’s that you don’t want me–”
    “It’s not that.” He brought his gaze on her. “That’s not it at all.”
    “Then what?”
    “You’re a beautiful, sexy woman. And you’re pregnant.” He got up and moved across the room.
    “By you,” she said.
    “I’d be taking advantage of you if I did what I’m aching to do right now.”
    Awkward reaction, but she laughed. “Too late to get all gallant on me.”
    He paced the floor, back and forth, until he finally stopped in front of her on his fifth run. “What if I hurt