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What?It's a shout inside my head, but nothing comes out of my mouth as I gape like a fish.
"No…what…" I try to get more words out, but they are locked in my tight throat.
Choosing together for me not to take the morning after pill is miles away from him actively trying to get me pregnant. Isn't it?
"What the hell are you talking about?" I am finally able to demand.
"You want my baby. I want you to have my baby."
I try to scoot back from his invading fingers. "Let me up."
"Not yet."
"We have to talk and I'm not doing it with your hand in my vagina."
"It is only two fingers. I've never been interested in fisting, but if that is something you want."
"No," I practically shout.
His dick is oversized enough. His whole hand? Not in this lifetime.
"Good. I would worry about hurting you."
How are we having this conversation? In this situation?
"Please, Atlas, you have to let me up."
He looks down at me. "I like touching you."
"I figured that out." But right now I need my brain online and it goes haywire when he's touching me. "I mean it, Atlas."
He pulls his fingers out and my body mourns the loss.Mamma mia. I am addicted. What am I going to do when he moves on?
A man from wealth like his doesn't have to settle. But why the heck is hetryingto get me pregnant?
I sit up and wetness gushes from me. That's one box that is going to be unpacked, broken down and buried with the other recycling before anyone else gets a chance to see the proof of my poor decisions.
Ignoring his dictate, I clamber off the boxes in a less than graceful fashion. When my feet hit the chilly floor, a big shiver wracks my body. Standing naked in the cold storage is probably not one of my best moves.
Quickly yanking on my leggings and top, I say, "I need a shower."
And there was me thinking we could get off fast and I could go on with my preparations for tonight. I didn't factor in the lack of a condom and the mess that would make. Or how sweaty I would get either.
Sex with Atlas is messy. And overwhelming. And wonderful. But really, really messy.
Slipping my feet into my ballet flats, I grab my underwear and bra. No point in putting them on only to take them off again. Hopefully, I won't see Willow on the way to my apartment.
"Here." I shove my lingerie toward Atlas. "Make yourself useful and put these in your pocket, or something."
He takes the undergarments from me and tucks them away.
Turning back to the box, I see the wet spot testifying to what we did and cringe. I rip open the top and start putting bottles on the shelves.
"What are you doing?"
"Getting rid of the evidence." Inhaling, the scent of sex assaults me.Caspita!"Can you open the door, and I don't know, wave some air in here?"
The most amazing sound erupts behind me. I spin in time to see the pure amusement covering Atlas's face. His laughter is deep and masculine. Also delicious.
