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I whimper, bringing my hand up and running it from his neck down his chest. I can feel his heartbeat running a mile a minute as it tries to race its way out of his chest.
He disconnects from me, nuzzling underneath my neck and I immediately understand. I pull my shirt down, embarrassingly large breasts heaving in front of his face. I didn’t pump before I left, knowing I’d need to feed Wesley right when I got back.
I never in a million years thought that this would happen. That he'd get me hot in bothered on the side of the highway.
“Holy fucking shit.” He groans, looking at my breasts as they hang in front of his face, pleading for relief. A droplet of milk hangs from the nipple, dangerously close to falling.
I wipe it off, feeling a zing as I touch my nipple. They’re overly sensitive and I want nothing else than to have Jackson ravage me and give me the relief my body is begging for.
He nuzzles my breast, licking around the nipple and groaning in torture.
That’s what this is. Complete torture.
As if he can read my thoughts, he pulls back and gives me a look of irritation. “Can’t do this.”
“What? Why?” I whine, feeling ridiculous that I sound like a child right now.
“I can’t.” He nods down at his cock, which is not erect in the slightest. “Pull up your shirt. Let’s go.”
Suddenly self-conscious that other people can see me with my post-pregnancy tits hanging out, I slip my shirt up, wincing at the tingling as my nipples hit my bra. Yeah, I really need to go breastfeed.
Sliding back over to the driver’s seat, I crank the truck into drive and head back home.
I really hope that Jackson gets his feeling back, because our sexual tension can only go on for so long without one of us losing our grip on our humanity.
