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I chuckle as I climb off her and off the bed to grab a washcloth from the bathroom, and I clean the mess I made on her stomach. I wasn’t planning to jerk it on top of her, but she slid onto my cock before I had a chance to grab a condom.
Not that I’m complaining.
I just…I’ve never done it without one.
Ever.
The thought of just breaking past the forbidden territory into actually kissing her was one thing. Sex was another. Sex with no condom?
It was something else. It opened up a whole new world.
But…what if I knocked her up?
It’s out of the question, and I don’t need to consider all the reasons why.
We didn’t exactly have the whole are you on birth control talk.
We didn’t exactly have any talk other than the one where she told me she hated me and I told her she had to beg for it.
And despite that animosity between us, it was still intimate and sexy. I felt connected to her in a way I’ve never felt with anyone else.
It sure as fuck didn’t feel like hatred.
But I’m also not sure it would be smart to categorize exactly what it did feel like.
“Are you hungry?” I ask after I toss the washcloth into the bathroom.
She nods. “I could eat.”
We agree on pizza, and I place an order with the restaurant downstairs since they’ll deliver it right to our room and I’m not exactly in the mood to head downstairs and grab it.
I pull on a pair of shorts and slide onto the bed beside her. I think about touching her. I think about pulling her into me.
But I’m not sure we’re there despite what we just shared.
She finally forces herself out of bed, and she escapes to the bathroom for a minute without a word. When she returns, she pulls on a t-shirt.
A Giants shirt.
It’s the team her dad played for—so I let it slide even though it’s not a Vegas Aces shirt.
I only want to see her repping the team I coach.
But, as a small voice in the back of my brain reminds me…it’s not my place to make that request.
Even if she is a team correspondent.
And then she slips onto the bed beside me wearing just a t-shirt. She leans on the headboard, and she links one of her legs over one of mine. I can nearly feel the heat of her bare pussy on my leg even though it’s not actually anywhere close right now.
“Now what?” she asks.
I chuckle. “We wait for the pizza?”
“You wanted to talk, so talk.”
I blow out a breath. “I’m not sure I have more to say.” Or, at least, I’m not sure how to say it. My guard is back up. I’m anxious about how this conversation might go, so to that end, I stand and grab the bottle of whiskey that’s sitting on the desk next to where I just had her perched a short while ago. Two glasses sit beside it, and I pour us each a few fingers of the liquid.
She thanks me as I hand her the glass, and I hold mine up.
