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Ooh, that was intense. When he eventually opens his eyes, we’re both breathing heavily, our gasps filling the semi-darkness.
“Jesus,” he says. “Your pelvic floor is fucking amazing.” That makes me giggle, and he glares at me. “Laughter doesn’t help.”
“Sorry.”
“Ouch. Wow. Hold on.” He withdraws carefully, wincing, then pushes my knees up to my chest. “Stay there. It encourages the little swimmers to reach the finish line.” Then he falls onto his back on the bed beside me and lets out a long groan.
I lie there, hugging my knees, and look up at the ceiling. Oh my God. We might have just made a baby.
I roll my head to look at him. He’s watching me. We look at each other for a long, long time. Sweet Oliver Huxley. My best friend, and now maybe the father of my child.
“I wonder if it worked?” I say softly.
“It wasn’t for the want of trying.”
“No.” I smile.
He rolls onto his side and props his head on a hand. Then he trails a finger down between my breasts as I lower my feet, and he rests a hand on my tummy.
“Wouldn’t that be something?” he murmurs.
“I suppose it’s different from last time for you. I mean, when you made a baby, you weren’t exactly trying.”
He strokes my skin with his thumb. “No.” He looks out of the window for a moment at the night sky, and I wonder whether he’s remembering that time, and how he felt when Brandy told him she was pregnant. I can’t imagine he was thrilled. It must have been a difficult time, and I doubt anyone was blissfully happy about it. I know his parents eventually came around and supported him, but Brandy’s were extremely hostile, and even now they’re maybe the only people in the world who don’t seem to like him. I think it’s because he didn’t marry her, and it doesn’t seem to matter that she insists she didn’t want to marry him either.
He looks back at me, sees me watching him, and moves a bit closer. Then he kisses me.
I close my eyes and let him, enjoying the way he presses his lips across mine, butterfly light. The sex was great, but he was right; it wasn’t just because he hit the buttons in the right order. He said,It’s the person you have it with that makes it special… that makes it amazing, and he was right. It felt great because it was him, and it’s been a long time coming, and I wanted him more than any other guy in the world.
If I thought I could come out of this unaffected, I was very, very dumb. I’ve opened the cage to my heart, and it’s sitting there, soft, squidgy, and unprotected. And now we’ve had sex, and all that remains is to see where the tide carries us.
Chapter Eleven
Huxley
“Don’t get sleepy,” I scold as Elizabeth’s eyelids droop. “We’ve got a long way to go yet.”
She smiles. “It doesn’t matter how many times you have sex, as long as you do it at the right time.”
“Nevertheless. I intend to fill you to the brim.”
“Mr. Romantic.”
I laugh, roll over, and get up. I search for boxers and pull them on, then tug on my trousers.
“Going somewhere?” she asks.
“I’m going to order us some drinks and a snack. I’ve got to keep my strength up. Want anything in particular?”
“Mmm… something sweet.”
“Okay.” I walk around to her side of the bed, lean over her, and kiss her. “We’re getting in the hot tub,” I tell her as I walk out the room. “Naked, before you start going all coy on me and getting your cozzie on.”
I walk through to the living room, flick on one of the lamps. Then I go over to the phone, pick it up, and dial for room service. I put in my order, then go out onto the deck to take the cover off the hot tub and start it up.
“I’m not sure about the naked part,” Elizabeth says, coming out in one of the white bathrobes left for guests.
“We’re right at the end,” I tell her, “nobody’s going to walk past, and the neighbors can’t see.”
