“You want to try navigatingdatingeach other while also trying to learn how to be parents?”
“Only because you won’t let me date you before,” he said. “I’d date you so good, starting immediately.”
I groaned. “Barry.”
“Hannah,” he mimicked in the same tone, then lowered his lips back to my neck for little seducing kisses. “Would it be so bad? I promise I’m not a fuck boy. I’ve met so many fuck boys, and I’m not one of them.”
I knew he wasn’t. Anyone could tell this about him, and the same could not be said for most of his teammates. Barry wasn’t even in the realm of fuck boy—he’d learned I was pregnant and was ready to immediately change his life to become a father. A boyfriend, too, if I’d have let him.
I’d marry you, even. If you wanted.Isn’t that what he’d said?
The thought of trying and failing with him when there was already so much at stake—a baby, a literal human—terrified me. It hardened my resolve that I shouldnotinvestigate something romantic until we had our feet somewhat beneath us as new parents. Even sleeping with him was a bad idea, but the problem was this: I really, really wanted to.
“No dating. We can revisit the conversation after the baby’s here. You might get three weeks into co-parenting and realize that I am really not the romantic partner of your dreams.”
Barry bit my shoulder, not hard, and let out a groan that made me laugh.
“I’m serious! The baby might make me a worse roommate than I already am.”
“I like having you as a roommate,” he muttered, kissing the spot he just put his teeth. I pushed his chest lightly until his head was level with mine again. He looked exasperated though amused. “Fine. We revisit the boyfriend question after the baby. Until then, sex is on the table.”
“But it doesn’t mean anything,” I reminded him. “Just sex.”
“And we vow to only have sex with each other.”
I didn’t point out that he didn’t agree to the sex meaning nothing. “Consider it vowed.”
Barry brought one of his hands between us for me to shake. I did, secretly giddy about the way his encompassed mine. Not letting his hand go, I pulled it down between my legs without breaking eye contact.
His gaze went molten, shaking his head with a low laugh. He needed absolutely no coaching before he was back on me.
CHAPTER 20
GOOD, OLD-FASHIONED BABY MAKING
The first time I had sex with Barry, back in New York, he took his dear sweet time. Even though it was late and we were practically strangers, I remember him massaging me in the shower, eating me out like he loved nothing more than to savor pussy as a pastime, and fucking me so deliberately, watching every reaction and second of my pleasure like it turned him on to unlock new noises from me and to make me come undone. I remember this went on well into the early hours of the morning, until I was rightfully begging him to just fuck me like I wanted. Eventually, when he had me on the brink of my third orgasm, he obliged.
And that’s how we got into this in the first place.
Now, seven months later and the evidence of our one night of passion steadily growing within me, he was anything but slow.
As soon as I gave him the go ahead, he was on me again, kissing me deeply, stopping only to pull my shirt and shorts off me, and then his. He paused when I was fully naked, looking down at my body. I felt insecure, nervous about my stretch marks and the way my nipples had somehow doubled in size in the last months. It was a new body, one that would never quite look like it did before, but he looked on with such clear longing and lust that I could hardly find it in myself to feel bad about that.
I grabbed his wrist, pulling him down to me. “Please, please don’t take your time.”
Barry chuckled as his lips came down over mine again.
“As you wish.”
He pulled my legs open, fingertips immediately finding my clit and rubbing it in tight circles that made me gasp.
“Fingers,” I said, or maybe I commanded it.
“Greedy,” he said against my mouth, then pressed two of those thick fingers inside me. A loud, high-pitched sound escaped me, the feel of his fingers better than maybe anything. I hadn’t had sex since meeting him in May, and I didn’t know if it was pregnancy or the seven-month dry spell, but I felt like I might be unlocking a new, secret kind of sex. Like sex multiplied by a hundred, sensation sweeping through my whole body, zapping in my hands and feet, even.
“Barry, oh my God, keep doing that.”
“You’rewetwet, sweetheart. Was this from your little moaning audio?”
