AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Without him knowing it, he’s giving me everything I ever wanted—to be in his arms in public, with his undivided attention. I let myself swim in the fantasy of it, pretending to be his, pretending that our lives are intertwined in the sameways that Madison and Chase’s are. I daydream about planning our wedding rather than helping Madison pick flowers and the theme for her own that’s coming up soon.
I want to live in this moment forever rather than thinking of what will happen if I get a positive pregnancy test in a couple of weeks. I knew the second we crossed that line that it was the beginning of the end of us, and I hate that I wasn’t strong enough to fight those needs and desires. I lit the match that will burn our friendship to the ground, and unfortunately, Cash added gasoline to it when he offered to get me pregnant.
“What if your schedule was wrong?” he asks when the song switches again.
“What do you mean?”
“What if the window is different? I think we need to keep going just in case.”
He isn’t saying anything I don’t want to hear. I knew where his mind was at when he pulled me closer and I could feel the start of an erection press against me, but this is already a very dangerous situation. We had a deadline. We both need to get some distance from each other, not that it would make the sting of it hurt any less.
I open my mouth to tell him just that.
“My place or yours?” is what I say instead.
Chapter 19
Cash
“I swear,” I groan, tugging a fistful of her hair to pull her mouth off my cock.
“So swear,” she says, her voice a tease that settles inside of me.
“I know you don’t want me coming in your mouth,” I challenge, but she’s probably right about being outside of her fertility window. I just wanted the woman in my bed. I needed memories of her there. I don’t doubt my own virility nor the strength of my sperm. If she’s pregnant now, then my window of spending time with her this way is ending very soon.
Instead of arguing or agreeing, she simply runs her tongue over her cherry-red lips, her eyes dropping down to the hand I have gripping the root of my shaft to keep myself from exploding on her face.
“I think you know where I’m coming,” I tell her.
She blinks up at me, all innocent and lost looking, for a brief second before a hint of deviousness crosses her features.
“Deep inside of me?” Her voice is soft yet laced with the naughtiness I know she’s more than capable of.
“Get on my fucking bed,” I growl, releasing her hair and taking a step back so she can stand.
We didn’t waste a second going at each other once we got inside my house. Unlike hers, my front door puts us right in the middle of my living room. Our clothes are scattered all over the place. Her dress is in a ball on the couch because that’s where it landed right before I pressed her to her back and lifted her hips up on the arm of the couch so I could get a taste of that delicious pussy of hers. My jeans are near the entry to the hallway, both of my shoes tangled in the bottom of them because I couldn’t be bothered to pull them off separately.
I drop my eyes to her heart-shaped, perfect ass, as she walks down the hall. The last time she was in my room, I didn’t want her there. I had the flu, and she brought me electrolyte water and some soup. She never once gave me shit about being a weak-ass man who could hardly get out of bed to go to the bathroom. She took care of me like I was precious to her.
“On the bed, Ads,” I growl when she stops short and just stares down at it. “Now is not the time to lecture me about not making it every day.”
Her face is a mask of seriousness when she turns back around to look at me.
“It’s just… You know… have you washed the sheets since the last time you…”
I wait for her to continue, but she doesn’t.
“Last time I what?”
“Had someone over,” she says after the longest pause ever.
“Had someone over?” I growl, my anger starting to become real. “I haven’t fucked anyone in this house, much less this bed.”
She nods, her cheeks that favorite color of mine, but I don’t know if it’s because she’s happy to hear what I had to say or if she’s realizing how fucking pitiful I am. We don’t have these types of conversations. We don’t talk about dating other people or how we spend our time when we aren’t together. It’s like a silent agreement because it’s possible she knows just how much it would crush me to hear about a guy she might be seeing.
“Do you take them to—”
I press my lips to hers, letting our tongues fight, in an effort to shut her up. I know how sad it is that I haven’t been with anyone else in years. I don’t want her sympathy or, worse yet, her questioning why I don’t date. She might not understand that if I can’t have her, then I don’t want anyone else. I’d rather fuck my hand than pretend with anyone else.
