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“What about the other messages? The texts we exchanged? Do you have those?”
She shakes her head, paging through the phone and sighs. “I don’t have that phone anymore and I deleted that number a long time ago. I wanted to forget about that whole homecoming thing. Honestly, that wrecked me more than all of the Yours Cruelly emails combined.”
“Fucking Rob Conrad,” I say.
“You wouldn’t have gone with me anyway.”
“Your psychopath brothers never would’ve allowed me to. You know that.”
She lifts a shoulder. “I guess we’ll never know, will we?”
She’s so damn cute. I want her. Again and again. For as long as I live, I want to be the one she comes home to, the one she worries to when things don’t go her way, the one who fathers her children.
And if that’s going to piss her brothers off, then so be it.
I can be everything she wants me to be and then some.
She’ll never shed another tear if I have anything to do with it.
I roll her back onto the bed, caging her under me. Her breathing comes hard and fast with anticipation as I pin her wrists to the mattress. It’s like she was challenging me to make the next move.
She doesn’t have to. With her, I can’t control myself enough not to. I need her.
“What book are you on now?” I ask.
She gazes up at me with a question. “The Hobbit.”
“H, huh? Getting your Tolkien on? That’s my favorite book.”
“Is it? I’m having trouble getting into it. Baby brain, I guess.”
“Maybe I should read it to you.” I spread her legs with my thighs, settling myself between them, and ease my hardening cock into her. She spreads her legs wider, welcoming it, and hooks her legs tightly around my hips, urging me toward her with her calves, gently pushing on my ass. Since you can’t get someone pregnant twice, we’ve not had to use rubbers and I have to say, she feels tighter, wetter, and softer than anything I ever could’ve imagined. “Oh God.”
I think of baseball.
Medical charts.
Taxes.
Anything to keep me from exploding right here, right now.
I want to take my time here. Feel everything. Every last inch.
She grips me harder, which only sends me closer to the edge.
“Oh God, Alec,” she moans, raking her fingernails down my back. “You feel so good inside me.”
When I’m buried to the hilt inside her, I breathe out, “You don’t know what you do to me, do you?”
“Why don’t you tell me then?” she whispers back.
She thinks the worst thing I ever did was hide that I sent her sweet messages and blew her off because I was protecting her from Rob Conrad. But that’s far from the worst thing I’ve ever done to her.
Eventually, I’m going to have to tell her. And when I do, she’s going to hate me more than she ever has before.
So much, she may not ever want to see me again.
So instead, I repeat the words in my head, again and again, as I plunge in.
Roses are red, violets are blue …
Forgive me for what I did to you.
30
Stassi
“Hey. Thought you wanted me to read that to you.” Alec’s just taken a shower, a towel slung low over his hips, his chest and shoulders dotted with drops of water. “Looks like you’re almost done now. What’s next?”
I’m in a little cocoon in his bed, finishing The Hobbit. It’s been a long slog trying to get through it. Alec keeps asking me how I’m liking it, and I have to confess: I’m not. I guess I’m not much of a fantasy fan.
But at least I’m almost finished. “Yeah. I’m having trouble thinking of an I, though. I think I’m going to read I Am Legend and Other Stories by Richard Matheson. After all these dwarves, I think I need zombies.”
He goes to the dresser and finds a pair of boxer briefs. “So you want to do that for my day off? Go to the bookstore?”
Truthfully, I’d been thinking of something else I have to do today. But I nod, liking that he’s making plans for us. It feels nice to be included in his life, to know that he wants to spend time with me when he could essentially do anything. He really does care about me and the baby. He’s putting his money where his mouth is. “Sure. I think I should probably get a copy of What to Expect When You’re Expecting. I hear it’s a must. But can we stop someplace else first?”
He sits on the edge of the bed to put on his jeans and gives me a curious look. “You’ve got me intrigued. Where?”
I know he won’t be intrigued any longer when he hears my answer. So I say it quick, like ripping off a Band-Aid.
“It’s Jonathan’s birthday. I always visit his grave today.”
