Fighting to Forgive (Fighting, #2)

He moves inside me, pulling out slowly and pushing back in, then freezes. “Oh, shit. Fucking shit!”


Faster than my sluggish brain can register, he’s off of me and standing beside the bed. I push to my elbows, and I’m practically knocked out by the sight of him. Gloriously naked, still hard, and without a condom. Without a condom.

And that would explain his freak out.

“Fuck, Mouse.” He runs his hands over his head to rest them at his nape. “How could I be so stupid?”

“Blake—”

“I should have known. It felt too good.” He paces the short length of my room. “So fucking stupid.”

I know from working with the UFL that the guys get tested for blood diseases all the time. He could be worried about catching something from me, but I’ve only ever been with Stewart. And I got tested at every physical, just in case I wasn’t the only woman he tormented with his sexual charm. Yuck. “If you’re worried about me, I’m clean. And you guys get tested every six months.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m clean too.” He continues his pacing.

He’s clean, I’m clean, so the only other thing to worry about is pregnancy. But that’s impossible. I have every intention of explaining this to him, but first I take a moment to enjoy the incredible show he’s giving me by passing his perfectly sculpted and very naked body by me time and time again.

“Fuck, Mouse.” He stops at the end of the bed and turns toward me, tall, tan, and mouthwatering. “What if I got you pregnant?”

“Huh?” I blink and try to meet his eyes, but damn, the competition is fierce.

“Huh? Mouse, did you hear what I said? I just came inside you.”

Pushing up to my hands and knees, I crawl toward him, making sure to toss a seductive swing in my hips. His eyes go wide, and his dick jumps. I use my hands to crawl up his body and lock them behind his neck. His face shows concern, but his hands grip my hips and pull me to him.

“Can’t get pregnant. I’m infertile.”

His eyebrows pinch together in concern as he studies my face. “Fuck, sweetheart…”

“It’s okay. I’ve come to terms with it. Besides, I have Axelle, and you’ve seen what a bang-up job I’ve done with her.” I avoid his eyes and laugh, trying to defuse the tension that’s settled in the air.

His hands sift into my hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” He studies my face. “Still, I should have taken better care of you and made sure to get a condom on. Infertile or not, that was a dick move on my part.”

I run my thumb between his eyebrows, smoothing the lines formed from his scowl. “Stop. Passion took over. What’s done is done. I don’t regret a second of it.”

He nods and pulls my face to his neck. Cupping the back of my head, he holds me there. “You’re right. So uh… if we’re, ya know, exclusive, does that mean no more condoms?”

I grin at the hopeful sound in his voice. “It’s okay with me as long as you’re comfortable with it. Although…” I pull back and meet his eyes. “If I get to watch you pace the room naked every time we forget a condom, I’m all for that plan.”

He flashes his signature crooked smile and then takes me to the bed with a growl. “You want a naked show, baby, you just ask.”

We hold each other in bed, nothing between us. No clothes, no secrets, only the airy feeling that comes with unburdening.

Blake

I’m lying with my girl in my arms. Her head on my pec and her sunshine-colored locks sprawl across my shoulder. I count our breaths as they align in rhythm. Three beats in, three beats out. In her bed, staring at the ceiling, my head fights to sort what I’m feeling.

Infertile.

I didn’t ask for more. I don’t want to know how or why she can’t have more children. The fact that God would rob a woman like her of the ability to bear life cramps my chest. I swallow back the lump that threatens to close my throat. And why the fuck do I feel like I lost something I never had?

“We better get dressed. I’d hate for Axelle to find us like this on our first sleepover.” She kisses my chest, then runs her nose along my skin and breathes in deep.

My heart beats a little faster, the blood in my body reawakening to her touch. I wrestle my thoughts into submission. Gliding my hand up her spine and into her hair, I bring her mouth to mine. I pull at her lips until she opens to let me in. Our tongues glide together in a sensual promise. We’re not through with each other, but now’s not the time.

With a nip to her lower lip, I end the kiss. We get dressed, her in a pair of sweatpants that she rolls twice at her waist, and a ribbed tank top. I throw on my pants and thermal. She moves to her dresser, tugging open the top drawer and pulling out a fluffy pink ball of cotton.

I bite my lip against a smile. The socks.

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