His racing pulse slowed, the pounding in his body abated, and his brain came back online. He rolled them over mid-kiss until she lay on top, her legs straddling his, and in this moment, nothing existed outside of the two of them.
They were infinite.
Unbreakable.
“Holy shit,” she said, lifting her head to look him in the eyes. “That might’ve been the best sex we ever had.”
Her hair a mess, her cheeks flushed, and her lips swollen, she looked good enough to eat—again—and the temptation had him considering the possibilities.
“Better than the time I fucked you against the hotel window in Myrtle Beach?” He jogged her memory with a pump of his hips, his semi-hard dick sliding along the walls of her very wet vagina.
“Definitely in the top two.” She grinned and wiggled her ass. “And pretty sure I fucked you.”
He snorted and took a quick nip of her bottom lip. “I think your recollection might be skewed, baby, because if I recall correctly, your tits were plastered against the glass while I drilled you from behind.”
She laughed the way she used to, her unfettered merriment filling him with nostalgia for their shared past along with hope for their future. “God, that was such a good weekend.”
“We didn’t leave our room the entire time we were there.”
She kissed him hard and fast. “That’s why it was so good, doofus.” With a moan, she sat up straight, and pussy clenching to grip him tight, she ground herself against his pelvis. “Do you think we’ll be able to go back someday?”
“Sugar cube, we can go anywhere you want. Name the place, and I’ll take you.” He punctuated his promise with a gentle thrust, and as he reached up to cup her breast, she slid her hand behind her back to cup his balls.
Her fingers slid over the elastic of his boxers, a reminder they both still wore clothes to hide their scars, and about to suggest they get fully naked, he never got the chance, because to his utter dismay, his phone pinged a notification.
Beside his on the night table, Becca’s new secure phone did the same, and two milliseconds later, their eyes met.
Fuck. No.
“Don’t do it,” he begged as she reached.
She hesitated, her fingers hovering over the device that would undoubtedly end their playtime with the news they both wanted and dreaded at the same time.
“What if it’s her?” she whispered. “What if she made contact?”
“Fuck her,” Jay growled, pulling Becca’s hand away and sitting up to wrap his arms around her waist. “She can wait.”
“But—”
“She can wait,” he repeated, hooking his legs over the side of the bed and dragging his ass to the edge so he could stand with his girl in his arms.
“Where are we going?” she asked, her arms tightening around his neck as his dick slipped free.
“To the window,” he replied. “I want to see how good your tits look with the sun going down on them.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Organized chaos. On the periphery of the kitchen, Becca stood with Miss Kitty in her arms and her back tucked into the doorway of Adam’s office to avoid being trampled. She’d seen the JTT in action before, but not like this.
Everywhere she looked, amidst the chatter and the clatter, someone helped, someone teased, someone laughed while Jay beamed down at the baby he held in his arms. And seeing him with little Halia…
God, it hurt.
She’d sacrifice anything to give him back the baby they’d lost. Her body. Her heart. Her soul. She’d offer it all if it meant her child got to grow, laugh, and be held in his loving arms, instead of slipping away before ever taking her first breath.
He looked so natural and calm, swaying back and forth on his feet, like he knew exactly what to do and how to do it, and watching from the sidelines, his come still inside her, made something in Becca’s chest twist so tight her heart stuttered.
She’d always known he’d be a good father. Had imagined him with their daughter in a thousand stolen moments of weakness. But seeing him like this, right in front of her, made it feel real in a way she wasn’t prepared for, and the pain of her loss sliced through her anew.
