Page 156 of Gold Rush

“You good, baby?”

“So good,” she moans, reaching up and grabbing a pillow. “I’m—you feel so fucking good.”

I run my hand along her arm until I find hers, gripping it instead of her wrist as my hips continue to roll in steady motions. My other hand slides under us and between Rory’s thighs, circling her clit. She stiffens, then grinds against my fingers, seeking more.

I can tell she’s about to come, so I pinch the nub of nerves, letting go when her inner muscles clench around my cock. I can’t stop the rush of cum. My dick jerks, and my balls tingle, that addictive high hitting.

And for the first time, I’m not relieved my sperm are shooting blanks. I’m thinking, What if I can’t have kids? What if I never get to see Rory pregnant? What if I never get to meet a little person who has her hair and eyes and intellect and my propensity to make jokes?

I just told Rory I’d give her anything she wanted. And what if I … can’t? Not because I don’t want to, but because I physically can’t. All because of stupid shit I did in the past and an impulsive decision back when purposefully trying to get a girl pregnant sounded like a ludicrous concept.

Rory is relaxed and pliant under me, a sated smile on her face as she lies on the comforter.

I pull out, grabbing a tissue off the bedside table to wipe the white liquid dribbling from her pussy, then head into the bathroom. Toss the crumpled tissue in the trash and clutch the counter surrounding the sink.

“Flynn?”

I glance up in the mirror, watching Rory appear in the doorway. She’s put a T-shirt on—my Knicks one—and she hasn’t had time to go into my room, so she must have stolen it out of the laundry. If I wasn’t currently spiraling, I’d tease her about it.

I manage a smile. “I’m fine. You wore me out.”

She crosses her arms, resting her head and shoulder against the doorframe. “No, I didn’t.”

I swallow and turn, forcing myself to hold eye contact. “I, uh, I got a vasectomy.”

Twin lines appear between her blue eyes. “I know. You told me.”

“When I made that decision, it didn’t occur to me, one day, that choice might affect someone else. Might affect you.”

Understanding washes over her face. “Flynn …”

“It should be reversible. I should be able to have kids. But I might … not, and if that is important to you, it’s something to … consider.”

She straightens, crossing the tiled floor. “I’ve spent the past nineteen years in school to become an attorney. I won’t know if I’m a licensed lawyer until the bar results release next month. I’ve barely started my career. There’s so much I want to do … and maybe, one day, having kids will be a part of that plan. But I—I don’t have a plan right now. There’s nothing that has to happen, nothing that I’m trying to accomplish as efficiently as possible. I thought I’d hate that uncertainty, that lack of goal, but I don’t. I’ll figure it out. I’ve always figured it out. If you want to reverse the procedure, if you want to talk about kids one day, that’s a conversation we can have. If you don’t, that’s a different conversation. Not a deal-breaker.”

I exhale. “I’m scared of letting you down. Of not being enough.”

“You’re—”

“Let me finish, Rory. I want to live together. I want to make dinner every night and talk about our cases and eat the lumpy oatmeal you cook on my way to work.”

She grimaces. “I follow the recipe exactly⁠—”

“Rory.”

She mimes zipping her lips shut. “Sorry.”

“You know me. You know all the shit with my dad and what happened to Penn and how I got my concussions. And it’s your decision if⁠—”

“I overlook your flaws?”

“I’m being serious.”

“I know.” She loops her arms over my shoulders. “And I’m realizing that, somehow, I did way too good of a job of convincing you that I don’t think you’re the sexiest, smartest guy I’ve ever met. Every time you walk into a room or I hear your voice, I get these crazy flutters in my chest. I’m not sure why you fell in love with me, but I’m never going to try to talk you out of it. And the only way you’ll talk me out of it is if you convince me you didn’t mean everything you said earlier about loving me and wanting me and all this being real.”

“I meant it.” My voice comes out hoarse.

“Then kiss me and carry me back to bed.”