Shoving through the door, I pulled him along. “Dinner sounds good,” I said, pulling him faster down the hall, until we’d passed the elevators and nurses’ desk. “But I’ve got a better idea.” Pausing at the last door at the end of the hall, I slid inside and gave it a quick once-over. It was empty, and had a lock on the door and a freshly made hospital bed against the window.

“I’m all for better ideas, Luce,” Jude said as I pulled him inside, “but what does sneaking into a hospital room have to do with it?”

Locking the door behind us, I shoved him up against the wall.

“This,” I said, kissing him. Hard.

“Better idea,” he said in between my frantic lips. My hands grabbed the hem of my shirt and tugged it over my head. “Much better idea.”

His shirt was the next one off, and then his fingers were releasing my bra. His hands skimmed around the front, covering my br**sts.

“Shit, Luce.” Jude pulled away from me, and his eyes dropped to where his hands had just been. They widened. “What the hell?”

“Being pregnant has its advantages,” I said, glancing down where my baby Cs had blossomed into full-on Ds in the wake of baby making.

“Hell yes, it does,” he said, lifting his hands back into position.

“Plus, I’ve got increased sex drive,” I added with a wink. “We’re talking crazed, panting, do-me-in-the-morning-afternoon-and-evening kind of increased sex drive.”

“If I don’t get inside you soon, I’m going to bust something,” he said, lifting me up and beelining for the bed. “Your huge tits and your dirty mouth are doing a number on me.”

“Well, you’d better hurry then,” I said, kissing his neck as my hand slid inside the front of his pants.

“Shit, baby, I’m serious.” He groaned when my hand tightened around him.

“So am I,” I replied, gliding my hand down him.

Then he had me on the bed and was crawling into the space between my legs. His face took on a serious expression all of a sudden.

“Can we be doing this?” he said, still breathing heavily. “With you being pregnant and all?”

If we didn’t do this I was fairly sure I’d burst into flames. I grabbed the top button of his jeans and tugged it free. “Does it seem weird to you that you want to abstain from the act that made the baby because of the baby?” I made quick work of his zipper.

“You’re talking over my head again,” he said.

“Then why don’t you just shut up and make love to your wife already?” Grabbing the waist of his jeans, I tugged them down.

“Okay.” His fingers slid inside my panties and he pulled them down my legs. The skirt would have to stay, because I couldn’t wait any longer. “Let’s see how Mrs. Ryder is in bed.”

Hovering over me, Jude braced his arms around me and lowered his chest until it smashed against mine. A stupid little grin formed on his face.

“I think I can get used to these things, Luce.”

I lifted my h*ps until I could feel him hard against me. “Enough talking. Not enough screwing.”

His dopey smile morphed into something else when he pushed himself inside me. I’d been so ready for him he sank all the way in. His mouth dropped to my neck, sucking the sensitive skin into his mouth, torturing me with each slow kiss as he stayed unmoving.

“Be nice,” I said, trying to flex my h*ps against his, but he had me pinned. I was at his mercy. “I’m your wife, after all.”

Jude gave my neck one final nip before his face moved above mine. “When you put it that way,” he said, staring hard into my eyes as he slid back—and, just when I thought he was pulling out all the way, he thrust back inside.

My arm flailed to the side, winding around the metal bedrail for support. It appeared that along with increased sex drive came a decreased thrust count until orgasm.

My other hand dug into his backside, curling into his flesh as he pulsed in and out of me.

“I can’t wait, baby.” I moaned as he rocked inside me again, already feeling my cl**ax coming on.

“I can’t either,” he panted, picking up his pace until my moans came at the same time as his low groan. His fingers wove through mine on the bedrail as I pulsed around him.

Wrapping his arms around me, Jude rolled over and cradled me to him. His breathing was just as labored as mine as our chests rose and fell to the same count.

“I love you, Luce Ryder,” he breathed, running his fingers up and down my back.

“I love you, Jude Ryder.” I looked up at him. “So . . . how was Mrs. Ryder in bed?”

That same stupid smile broke over his face. “Fucking fantastic.”

I chuckled into the crook of his arm. “Good thing. Since you’re going to be stuck making love to her until you shrivel up and die.”

“Good thing,” he said, sounding happy, satisfied, and tired. That was a powerful combo.

“So, Mr. Jude Ryder.” I lifted my head from his chest and pretended to talk into a microphone ceremoniously. “You just got hitched at the age of twenty-one, will be changing your baby’s diapers before you turn twenty-two, and just had your honeymoon on a hospital bed.” I held out the imaginary mike. “How do you feel?”

“Like the luckiest damn bastard in the world.”

I could relate.

“Well put,” I said. “Very convincing.”