"I barely remember my son's mother. Spent almost a year hooking up with her. One look at you and every single detail is etched into my brain. That's why. Because even if you didn't want me, you're it for us."
He starts moving, slowly at first, before picking up the pace. He feels incredible inside me, even with the barrier between us. Us. He said, You're it for us. He's not just thinking of himself but of Ryan as well. Of course he thinks of Ryan, but the confirmation is enough to accelerate my heart rate. Noticing my reaction to what he's said, Jim slides a hand between us and finds my clit. He puts the faintest amount of pressure on my swollen nub and makes a circular motion. It's slow and glorious, but he's sure to pick up the speed little by little. My toes curl and legs spasm. I grab hold of his ass and squeeze, encouraging him to pick up the pace. What was once smooth, calculated movements becomes frantic and desperate with need. I'm making noises that should embarrass me, loudly and without apprehension. He's slamming into me with a force that might hurt if he wasn't hitting all the right spots. My nails dig into his flesh, leaving more marks, signs that we were together.
"That good for you, baby?" Jim's gasping for breath, his words broken.
Yes.
"I love you."
Once I've said the words, I want to take them back. More than anything, I'd like a do-over. Jim doesn't say anything. He just keeps going, but harder now, more furious. His free hand twists at my clit, sending me over the edge. I'm gasping for breath, desperate for the coming euphoria. My body is so tight I think I might snap in two, and then, just like that, the dizziness settles in and I'm floating on cloud nine. It's even better than the first one, because now Jim's following suit and falling apart above me. And when we're done, we lie like that, with him inside me, and no desire to clean up. I do my best to relax and enjoy the moment, but like an idiot, I told him I love him.
Just when I think he's fallen asleep, he slides out of me, kisses me, practically devouring my mouth, and then pushes off the bed. Pulling the condom off, he tosses it into the trash can near the bed and stands in the doorway to the en suite bathroom.
"Gotta shower and then get home, babe." With that, he disappears into the bathroom and turn on the shower. I wait for a moment, unsure of what to do. Moments drag into minutes, and my anxiety spikes. I don't know what Jim meant when he said I'm "it" for him and Ryan, but he sure as hell didn't return the sentiment when I told him I love him. He just continued to fuck me. He might like me, might like fucking me, and might sure as hell like how I take care of his boy, but he doesn't love me. And that's now painfully obvious.
So I run. Like an embarrassed fool, I run out of the room half-dressed and looking for my boy. I'm careful to be quiet as I scoop him up from the chair he's fallen asleep in in the chapel and even quieter as I sneak us out of the clubhouse. Thankfully, it's a short walk to the apartment, because he's nine now and that means he's not really a little boy anymore.
Even though Jim says he wants to give Ian a family, he just broke me in the worst way. It should be a dull sort of agony, but it's not. It's a sharp pain that burns and grows from my heart out through the rest of me. This was a difficult but necessary reminder that I can't count on anyone else and I'm the only one Ian can rely on.
CHAPTER 14
Somewhere in my subconscious, I recognize the sound of a lock clicking and the squeak of an opening door. I can't bring myself to move, though. I should, but I don't sense any danger--at least that's my excuse--so I try to drift back to sleep. It's Ian with the bathroom door, I'm sure. He's gotten better about waking up in the middle of the night if he has to pee. Moments later, hot breath ghosts against the back of my neck, which doesn't help me in the whole getting back to sleep thing. My kid has this thing about going pee and then being wide awake and chatty as fuck. It sucks, but it's just part of the glamorous life of a parent. I settle into the mattress, ignoring the way it dips behind me, and fight to keep my eyes closed. If Ian knows I'm awake, he's going to start talking to me.