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Atlas moved toward me with confidence.
Too much confidence.
The kind of confidence I wasn’t used to from a man.
No, this isn’t good… is it?
My mind suddenly decided to re-read every text Hannah had sent to me so far tonight.
Pushing me toward Atlas.
Telling me it was okay to get what I needed and what I wanted from him.
That being pregnant didn’t mean I couldn’t explore and feel pleasure ever again.
And now, here was Atlas standing in front of me, his right hand touching my stomach.
Standing tall, hovering over me.
“You didn’t say goodnight yet,” I whispered.
“I know,” he said.
His fingers began to pull at the bottom of the t-shirt.
Inching it up little by little.
Taking forever to find the bottom of the shirt.
Probably on purpose because this strategy worked very well.
My inner thighs trembled.
Once I felt Atlas’s bare fingers touch my leg, I sucked in a breath.
“Is this okay, love?”
His big, mean voice suddenly acting…nice?
Giving a man like Atlas consent sort of felt like jumping out of an airplane without a parachute.
His right hand moved up my leg.
He touched my panties.
But he kept going right away.
Up to my belly.
His huge hand touching my belly.
I wasn’tbeachballpregnant.
But my belly had gotten harder. It had pushed out just a little.
“Fuck, love,” Atlas whispered. “You’re…”
He held back whatever else he had to say.
