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Her legs were curled up high, knees pressing up against my lower belly. She had one arm between her legs while the other was draped as far over my belly as she could get without it feeling awkward on her end.
Her hair was also draped across my chest, and I could feel pieces of it sliding down between our bodies.
I was also hard as a steel pipe, and counting to a hundred, backward, in my head. Telling myself that I did not, under any circumstance, need to fuck her.
This was getting bad.
In the beginning, I only wanted her.
Now? Now I fucking craved her. Craved her touch. Her laugh. Her smile. Her insults.
Hell, everything I wanted felt like something I shouldn’t, and I didn’t know what to do about it.
Though, I suppose if I was an honest man, this wasn’t completely surprising.
Jubilee was a great woman. I’d always liked her—even though I never missed a chance to give her shit.
I’d also always known that she was a pain in the ass, and would swallow me alive if I let her.
Jubilee was the type of girl that always made me feel. Made me want things like marriage and babies and things that a man like me shouldn’t want.
The thing Jubilee and I had had always felt more real than any of my past relationships—even the one with her sister.
I should feel wrong about having her in this capacity.
But I didn’t.
It felt right.
“What are you thinking about?” Jubilee murmured against my skin. “You’re making my head hurt.”
I felt a grin play at the corners of my lips. “What makes you think that I’m thinking anything at all? What if I was sleeping?”
She scoffed and pushed her knees down, then pressed herself more fully against me.
“You’re huffing and puffing,” she muttered, settling her head against my chest. “And you’re moving and twitching, shaking the bed. Let’s not forget.” She moved until her left thigh was firmly planted over my still shaking leg. “I know you really well. Just like you know me.”
That was true.
Though we may not have been together—ever—we still knew each other. Had grown up next to each other since we were kids.
“Whatever,” I muttered.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked, sounding tired and grouchy.
I wanted to kiss her lips and taste the sleep on her mouth.
My hands clenched into fists.
“I’m thinking about the fact that I probably shouldn’t have let you sleep in the same bed with me,” I told her honestly.
Her hand curled around the fist that was resting on my belly.
“Why?” she asked. “Have I kept you up?”
I felt my dick twitch but had a feeling that wasn’t what she was asking.
“Not really, no,” I told her. “But I woke up when you started to press kisses to my skin, and couldn’t go back to sleep.”
“Shit,” she laughed quietly, her small body shaking against mine. “I’m sorry.”
I resisted the urge to drop my arm from behind my head and pull her in close.
“I’m not,” I admitted.
Silence followed my announcement, and I thought for a few long seconds that she’d fallen back asleep.
But then she suddenly moved until she was straddling me, and I suddenly had my hands on her hips, pulling her closer.
I could feel her breath on my face as she leaned forward and hovered over me.
Her unbound breasts—that were covered by nothing but my t-shirt—were resting against my chest, and I could tell that her mouth was only inches from mine.
“What we have?” she whispered.
I swallowed hard.
“Yeah?”
“I like it.”
Her words made something in my body freeze for all of two seconds.
“We’ll kill each other if we continue to do this,” I told her. “We’re bad together. We fight. We can’t stand to be in the same room as each other for more than ten minutes, and when we are, it’s inevitable that we’ll fight.” I paused. “And I fucking like it. I don’t ever want it to end.”
She laughed.
In my face.
Then leaned forward and kissed me.
“Nobody said that we had to stop fighting,” she said. “I’m just suggesting that we stop fooling ourselves and do something about it. We’ve already taken that step, and there’s no getting your horses back into your barn.”
I shook my head at her analogy.
“Are you trying to say some innuendo about my swimmers finding their way inside of you?” I asked. “Because that was only the second time.” I swallowed. “And we need to talk about that. We need to figure out a game plan…I might’ve gotten you pregnant.”
There was a long pause.
“It’s highly likely that you didn’t,” she admitted. “But, saying that, you should probably make sure that you always have condoms on hand, because I did survive a lightning strike. I have crazy luck. If anyone could get pregnant, I’d be that one person in a billion. But, saying that, you got your ex-wife pregnant, remember? So just in case…yeah, I’m babbling. Just make sure you’re gloved.”
