Stretching toward his lap, I wrapped one hand around him and took him into my mouth. Nick’s hips surged off the couch as he let out a strangled sound. His hand folded over the back of my neck as I took him as far as I could. He tasted of salt and man, and as I moved my hand, I pressed my thighs together. Never before had I been so turned on going down on a guy, but I was pretty sure if I continued on this path, there wouldn’t be a main event for either us.
With one last lick and a quick kiss, I returned to straddling his lap. With my hand around him, I guided him in, and his grip on my hips was tight as inch by inch I let him in. Maybe it was this position. Maybe it was the pregnancy. I didn’t know, but I felt incredibly tight and my nerve endings were firing all at once at the delicious tug and pull.
Sliding my hands up to his jaw, I pressed against him as I started to move my hips, rocking back and forth slowly. The wool of his sweater teased the tips of my breasts and the rough material of his jeans rubbed my inner thighs.
There was something unbelievably hot about being completely naked while he was still mostly dressed. I think Nick agreed, based on the dirty stuff he whispered in my ear as I rode him.
My hips moved in tight circles over him, and it didn’t take long before I could feel the tension building low in my belly. I reached down, placing my hands over his as I moved against him, our foreheads pressed together, our breaths hot and mingling in the space between our mouths.
“You’re killing me,” he said, his hands breaking my hold, sliding to my rear. “You’re fucking killing me, and I can’t think of a better way to go.”
I gripped his arm and the back of his neck as I picked up the pace. The coil spun tighter and tighter. “Oh God,” I gasped, a strand of hair falling in my face as I tipped my head back.
His lips scorched the skin of my throat. “I can never get tired of this.”
Never. Never was a long time. Never was forever. Never meant love. My heart swelled as a shocking thought whipped through me, and I stilled, my chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.
Would we be here, right where we were, doing what we were doing, if I hadn’t gotten pregnant?
“You okay?” Nick asked, grasping my chin with one of his hands. “Stephanie?”
“Yeah.” I blinked, pushing the thought aside as I started moving again, chasing after the sweet release that I knew was just out of my grasp.
Nick guided my mouth to his and kissed me deeply as the hand along my rear moved down the center, one long finger seeking and hitting a spot that caused my body to jerk and an explosion of pleasure to occur. The release shook me as I tightened all around him. Blood pounded through me as I cried out.
He moved suddenly, and before I could even come back down, my hands were on the arm of the couch and my knees were sinking into the cushion. Nick was behind me and in me, his thrusts powerful and deep. One arm circled just below my breasts and he drew me up and back, sealing me to his chest as his hips ground into mine. He came with my name a hoarse shout.
I don’t even remember moving after that, but somehow I ended up sandwiched between the back of the couch and him. My face was pressed into his sweater and my leg was thrust between his.
“God,” Nick said thickly. “Damn.”
I made a virtually incoherent sound as he managed to fold his hand around the back of my head.
“You still alive?” he asked.
“Mmm-hmm.”
“And you’re okay?”
“Uh-huh.”
There was a pause. “And you’re not planning on moving for a while, are you?”
“Uh-uh.”
“Yeah, that’s good.” Nick got his arm around my lower back. “Neither am I.”
I smiled in response, and though he couldn’t see it, the curve of my lips felt forced, because even as my body was relaxed and blissed out, I couldn’t help asking myself that horrifying question again.
Would we be here?
And there was no answer to that question. There never would be.
Chapter 23
“So are you going home for Thanksgiving or not?”
In the middle of shoving what was probably half a pancake in my mouth, I paused and looked across the table at Katie. This morning she was dressed rather calmly . . . for Katie. Her bright purple sweater was as fuzzy as a bear, but it lacked all sparkles. “I don’t know yet. My mom isn’t cooking. She is going to her sister’s house. I’m invited, of course, but since Mr. Bowser wants me in the office on Friday, it doesn’t make much sense to make that drive.”
“I can’t believe you have to work on Friday,” Calla said. Since Shepherd was out for break, she was back home, and had joined our Sunday breakfast.
Roxy frowned. “We have to work.”
“I’m working,” Katie added, twirling her fork. “Working on the pole, oh yeah.”
“That’s because we work at a bar and you at a strip club,” Calla explained. “I always thought normal jobs closed on Friday.”
I finished chewing my mouthful of pancake. “He has most of the office out for the day, but they have this big project they’re working on.” The project was opening the academy in Martinsburg by September of next year, and they were meeting the county boards again the first week of December. “So I’m just in there to help get everything typed up.”