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He leaned back against my counter and pulled me into a loose embrace.
“Did I freak you out talking about rings?”
“A bit,” I admitted, “I don’t like talking about forever. I can’t believe that what’s happening now is real. Talking about the future makes me feel like I’m pushing my luck.”
“So, without talking about it,” he smiled at me with his eyes only, “is that the direction we’re headed?”
I squirmed uncomfortably. “I want it to be, more than anything, but I can’t talk in terms of forever. Not until you know me better.”
His eyebrows rose. “Willa, I know you better than you know yourself.”
He started walking, backing me up towards my bedroom. I smiled into his eyes. The anxious flutter in my stomach that normally accompanied sex was replaced by anticipation, knowing he would take control, and all I had to do was follow his lead.
“Do you know what I’m thinking right now?” I teased.
He smiled. “You’re thinking I’m about to give you a good time.”
I laughed out loud, throwing back my head. When I looked back up it was to see him grinning, full out. It took my breath away. I spoke without thinking.
“Do I make you happy?” If I could have sucked the words back in, I would have. I never put myself out there like that to risk rejection.
He stopped walking immediately, his face serious, and he palmed my cheek as he assured me, “So very happy, Willa.”
He bent his neck and brushed his lips softly across mine, then kissed the corners of my mouth, my closed eyes, the tip of my nose. He bent at the knees, wrapped me up tight in his arms and tucked his face into my neck as he carried me the last few steps into my bedroom.
He undressed me slowly, kissed each body part as he revealed it, and when I stood before him fully undressed, he guided me down onto the bed and pushed me down flat while he pulled off his clothes, staring down at me all the while.
He turned, giving me a glimpse of his tattooed back, and plucked a condom out of the nightstand drawer where we kept them, and tossed it on the bed.
I touched it with my forefinger. “I think we can do away with these now.”
He sat on the edge of my bed, his hand on my naked thigh, his eyes serious on my face.
“There’s nothing I want more,” he paused. “I haven’t had sex without a condom since I was twenty-four years old.”
“I’m on the pill,” I responded.
He nodded, looked at me intently, and said again, “I haven’t had sex without a condom since I was twenty-four years old.”
Ah. I got it.
What would I do if I got pregnant? That was his unasked question. His reason for still wanting the condom. What would I do? There was no question. I’d probably do a lot of things, some of them stupid, but I would never do that.
“I would never do that to you,” I promised, “but we can use a condom forever if you want to.”
I said ‘forever’, oh Lord, I amended my promise, “For as long as we’re together, I mean.”
Barrett frowned at me from beneath his brows, nabbed the condom and threw it back in the drawer, then dragged me under him on the bed, muttering, “You need to learn when to stop talking, Willa.”
My laughter was short-lived as he started moving over me, braced on his elbows, his serious face hovering over mine, watching me as he flexed his hips and rubbed his cock back and forth over my clit, gathering the wet and spreading it over the both of us.
“Angel,” he whispered, “I’m feeling the need to claim you.”
My pussy spasmed and I tilted to get more of him.
“You like that,” he muttered, still watching.
“From you, yes.”
