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I took a long swallow of my wine. “I don’t particularly like it,” I said honestly. “But… I like it when you fuck me without a condom.”
His jaw tightened, and I watched his Adam’s apple move as he visibly swallowed. “Fuck, if I love it more than anything in this world.”
Silence descended between us.
“I’ll pull out,” he decided.
“The show Teen Mom exists because of men believing in the pull-out method,” I snickered, although I wasn’t joking.
He didn’t break eye contact as he shrugged.
Shrugged.
The man I’d been seeing less than a month didn’t seem at all perturbed by the possibility of getting me pregnant.
That was a red flag. Indicating that I was supposed to pump the brakes. That I was supposed to create space.
It should’ve had me feeling uneasy, uncomfortable. Not warm and safe.
But it did.
So, I didn’t run. Didn’t pump the brakes.
I just sat there, drinking my wine, watching him cook.
We didn’t revisit the subject. Nor did he wear a condom when he fucked me on the kitchen counter after dinner.
Chapter
Seventeen
Recipe: Oatmeal Cookies
From ‘Dessert Person’
It wasn’t the ringing that wrenched me out of sleep. Not then. When I slept better than I had… ever. It was lucky I didn’t need an alarm to wake up when I did because I would’ve slept right through it. I woke because Rowan’s arms were no longer wrapped around me, his warm body no longer pressed against mine. He was speaking low. Barely above a whisper.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “Yeah, no, thanks, Finn. I’ll be right there.”
I blinked into the darkness, the light coming from his phone illuminating his shape.
“What’s going on?” I mumbled sleepily.
Rowan put the phone down and came back to me in bed, kissing my head. “Kip’s had too much to drink. Got into some shit. He needs a ride home.”
“I’ll come with you,” I said, trying to get my bearings, sleep still clutching me. My stomach throbbed at the movement, something I noted despite still being half asleep.
“No,” he countered softly. “You have to get up in a couple of hours. Go back to sleep. I’ll be back soon.”
I wanted to argue with him, but I was sleepy. And I did have to get up in a few hours—though he needed to as well since he had established a routine of coming to the bakery with me.
“Come back soon,” I muttered, already sinking back into sleep.
He chuckled in a way that warmed my entire body. “Oh, cupcake, you in my bed, wearing my tee… I’ll be back as soon as humanly possible.”
He kissed my lips, hands venturing underneath my tee for a decadent moment.
I was no longer lapsing back into unconsciousness, desire waking me up.
“Later,” Rowan promised, cupping my breast while peppering my neck with kisses.
“Later,” I repeated, already aching for him.
I smiled at the sounds of Rowan getting up, getting dressed then kissing me once more before leaving the room.
Though I lapsed back into sleep, it was thin without Rowan there. I was listening out for him, expecting him. So I heard the gentle rap on the front door.
Maggie heard it too, her collar clanging as she growled softly, getting up from her bed.
My spine tingled with unease as I sat up in bed, holding my breath, listening.
The knock sounded again, not so gentle this time.
I heard Maggie get up from her bed and run out of the room, growling some more.
“Shit,” I whispered, throwing the covers back and running after her.
I cried out as the movement caused pain to spear my side. Gritting my teeth, I ignored it, hating that my body was manifesting all of my stress in this way.
I felt a semblance of relief when I didn’t hear her barking or tearing an intruder apart. Plus, I was pretty sure an intruder wouldn’t knock on the front door of the biggest badass in town in the middle of the night.
Rowan Derrick had some big ‘don’t fuck with me’ energy.
But Rowan wasn’t here. And although I was pretty sure he had an impressive cache of weapons—considering his Army background and overall badassery—I also knew he was likely sensible enough to keep them somewhere safe and hidden that I couldn’t find in a pinch.
At least I had Maggie, who was sitting at the front door when I crept up, still growling lowly. I took it as a good sign that she wasn’t barking like mad. Dogs had a good sense for things, didn’t they? If she smelled an intruder, I thought she’d act a little more concerned.
“Rowan, open up! I know you’re in there, I can hear Maggie,” a voice yelled through the door.
A female voice.
One sounding impatient and familiar to Rowan. Familiar enough to be acquainted with Maggie, and to turn up at his house in the middle of the night.
“Shit,” I grumbled under my breath.
I could run away and hide and hope the woman went away. It was probably the most sensible course of action. She wasn’t here for me. Rowan wasn’t here. No good could truly come from me opening the door.
