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My throat thickens. “And you think that’s a risk?”
She shrugs. “Sex confuses and complicates things. I just needed some time to get my bearings with all of this, and the distance helped.”
The last thing I want right now is to stop having sex with her. I understand I will have to do that eventually, but I was, I don’t know, hoping it would take us a bit to get pregnant. A couple of months. Enough time to let me have my fill of her—if such a thing is even possible. Going in, I knew the personal risk of that. I knew there was a chance I’d lose my mind and possibly a piece of my heart to her—though I did consider the latter unlikely.
I figured if the unlikely happened, it would hopefully be only temporary, and I’d learn to live with the pain if it meant I’d have her for a while and then a baby after.
But I hadn’t considered her heart with that. She told me it wouldn’t be an issue.
I adjust her in my hands and press her deeper into the wall so I can free a hand and cup her jaw. “Katy…” Shit. Dammit! “If you want to stop trying naturally, we can.”
My chest caves in on itself at the thought of losing that piece of her. It’s not even the sex per se, it’s having Katy on a different level. A closer level. One of the few I have.
“I want a baby with you, Bennett, because I think you’ll be an amazing father. But I don’t know how to do this with you without compromising my heart or wanting yours.”
What do I say? What do I do?
And why—seriously, why after all I’ve been through and all she’s been through—does part of me want her to want my heart? I clear that away.
“So you want to stop sleeping together?”
Please say no. Please say no.
“No. I don’t,” she says after a long, tense beat. “I like having sex with you. But I need mental and physical boundaries while we’re doing this part of it.”
“Okay.” I swallow thickly. “You’ve got it.”
“But I want you too. That’s what scares me. I don’t want to stop yet. I don’t even care that I’m not ovulating anymore. And that’s bad, right? I shouldn’t want you as much as I do.”
My head slants sideways, and before I realize what I’m doing, I plow my lips directly against hers. She gasps and I take advantage, swirling my tongue with hers, groaning at the feel and taste of her like I’ve gone years instead of only hours without it, and this one taste is bringing me back to life.
“I want you too,” I murmur against her lips. “So much. All the time. It’s never enough.” My hand tugs at her hair and I hold her tight, demanding full access to her mouth, demanding all of her, and not accepting anything less. Her tongue twists with mine, fighting me, angry and punishing, and yet she’s so hungry she can’t slow her kisses, and neither can I.
I can play this by her terms. I can force myself back and give her the space she needs. I can. I have no choice if I want this. This could be my only shot at having a baby. A baby while my mother is healthy enough to enjoy being a grandma.
There is nothing more important to me than that.
“We’ll be fine,” I promise her. “It’s new and scary and rife with uncertainty. I get that. But we’ve got this. We can do this.”
I start fisting at her clothes, my hand roaming, sliding over her breasts, loving how hard her nipples are for me. Katy, I’ve come to learn, prefers to wear dresses and skirts when she’s not at the hospital and is forced to wear scrubs. And since she was set to meet me at the attorney’s office, she’s wearing a flowy butter-yellow skirt. I wish I could bend her over and spank her. Punish her for hiding from me, but this isn’t the place, and I don’t have that sort of time.
My hand dives up, and I push the center of her thong to the side so I can play with her wet pussy and pulsing clit. She wants me. She fucking wants me as much as I want her.
I continue kissing her, her hands ripping at my hair and yanking at my shirt before working the button and fly of my pants to free my cock. The moment she does, I take myself in hand, line up, and plunge in as deep as I can go.
“Fuck!” she cries. Her eyes pinch shut as her head meets the tiled wall behind her.
Her pussy convulses, gripping my cock like a fist. There is nothing like that first thrust inside her. Fucking nothing.
I hold my breath as I start to drive into her, my body desperately reacting, needing to show her that this thing between us is too good to stop or give up.
“I’m not fucking you with my heart,” I tell her. “I’m fucking you with my dick. As long as we don’t confuse the two, we’ll be fine.” I thrust deeper, panting harder. “Don’t go, Katy.” God, she feels so good. “Please,” I beg, unable to stop the words from tumbling past my lips as I continue to fuck up into her, making sure my pelvic bone hits her clit with every upward thrust. “Don’t go.”
She gasps, loud, and without restraint. All she can do is hold on to me, her legs around my waist, her arms around my neck. She’s so fucking beautiful when she’s like this—with me buried inside her making her feel good. My skin tingles, and my forehead prickles with a sheen of sweat. My hips piston, pivoting into her, moving faster, trying to outrun this… this feeling, this urgent fucking feeling that’s making my chest burn.
“Tell me we can do this,” I demand. I’ve already lost too much. I can’t lose this—lose her—too.
Her forehead drops to mine, and our eyes cling helplessly. She licks her lips and then kisses me. “Yes,” she promises, her voice barely audible. “We can do this. I want this too. I won’t go. I’ll stay.”
