“I knew I was late, but I didn’t realize how late. The last time I had my period, it sucked. Came out of fucking nowhere. I was out to dinner with friends and…yeah.”
Jesus. Men have it so much easier than women do. “Ok, that sucks. When was it? Were you out with Viv?”
“Nope. I was in California. It was right before I moved here. Maybe a week or two before I met you.”
I kiss Maggie, and then I smile. “So, you’re telling me that condom we pulled out of the bottom of an ancient first aid kit in a frat house basement bathroom just might have been faulty. Huh.”
And…we’re back to the spiral. “Oh my god. We are both smart people, JT. How could we have?—"
“Are you kidding me? I wanted you so damn bad that I’d have walked bare-ass naked into the kitchen and asked for some fucking plastic wrap if there hadn’t been any condoms around. That hasn’t changed, by the way,” I say, looking down at the tent in my sweats.
Maggie blushes. “It hasn’t changed for me, either. No matter how hard I tried, I could never resist you. Not physically, but not emotionally, either. Not in any way. You’re the best part of my day, JT. Even if I only see you for a few seconds, or only have time for a few quick texts. They carry me through.”
“You’re the best part of my life, Maggie.” I’m not sure if she realizes just how true my words are, but her lips latch onto mine and my hands find the hem of her shirt and pull it upward. I need to see her, all of her. I tug her shorts off as Isettle her on the center of the bed. “Lie, back for me. Let me look at you.”
Damn.
It’s been almost two weeks since we’ve been together, and that was in a bathroom stall at Wolfie’s. So classy. The changes to her body aren’t dramatic yet, but they’re there. Her breasts are fuller, her belly softer. There’s the barest hint of a bump, andfuck, that turns me on. It shouldn’t. It’s gotta be all kinds of fucked up, but I don’t care.
“Are they still so sensitive?” I ask, my fingers inching up her body.
She shakes her head. “I don’t think so.”
“Okay if I test that theory?” I ask, settling over her, my hands braced on either side of her shoulders.
She arches up. “I really think you should—fuck.”
The curse falls from her mouth as I close my lips over her nipple and cup her other breast with my hand. I’m being as gentle as I can, but when she grips the back of my head and pulls me closer, I give her exactly what she wants: my hungry mouth all over her body. I’m starving for her, and I’m not shy about it. No one’s home and we’re on a bed and she’s carrying my baby. I’ve got no fucking chill at all, and I’m not even sorry about it.
I slip my hand between us to find her ready for me. So damn ready. She’s fucking my hand and I’m rubbing her clit and there’s no finesse, but I just need to watch her come for me. I need to see her sex get wetter. I need to feel her body convulse with the power of an orgasm. I need to part her legs and push inside her without a barrier.
“Do it,” she urges, reaching for me.
I tilt her hips up and drag the head of my cock along her seam, teasing us both before I fill her up.
Her body takes me in like it missed me, and it needs me. I rock into her, greedy for another orgasm. Is she more sensitive now? Does it feel as good as before?
“Better,” she says, answering the question I didn’t know I’d said out loud.
I’m holding her close, pumping into her in shallow little bursts. I’m not dumb enough to think my dick’s getting anywhere near the baby—holy shit,the baby—but still, I don’t want to be too rough with Maggie.
“JT,” she keens, my name a plea. “Give me more. Harder. Faster. I?—”
Well, when she puts it that way…Who am I to deny the mother of my child?
I snap my hips and go deep. She cries out as I keep the same rhythm, grinding our bodies together. The base of my spine tingles, sending a warning to my brain, but there’s no cause for alarm. Maggie’s there already. She comes hard, gripping my shoulders and crying out just as I pour into her.
An hour later, we’re lying together, still incredulous.
“I’m pregnant,” Maggie says for the millionth time, but I’ll never get tired of hearing it.
“Are you freaking out yet?” she asks. “Because I’m waiting for you to freak out.”
“I’m not gonna freak out,” I tell her, also for the millionth time.
“I’m serious, JT.”
“So am I, Maggie,” I mimic. “Make an appointment, ok? No matter the time, I’ll be there.”
