“And what does that look like?”
I can’t find the words to answer her right now, so instead, I move a hand between her legs to show her how focused I am on getting her home permanently. She gasps, her back arches, and her eyes finally lock in on me. My beautiful woman is finally looking at me, and all I can think in this moment is how I want to start over. How I want a thousand forevers with her. How I can’t let her leave again. So I kiss her, forcing her to pay attention to me. She doesn’t fight me. She just wraps her arms around my lower torso and slides them down to my ass. She squeezes each cheek and bucks into me. I can’t feel anything—or I thought I couldn’t—but I feel her touch. I feel her lips and her tight hot cunt getting primed for me. Everything in me tells me this is right. We belong together, even if together we’re fucked up and I can’t stop doing stupid things around her. We’re a family, and we need to be together, and the best way to make that shit stick is to grow our family.
I slide into her quickly and without wrapping my dick. She murmurs something against my mouth, but I don’t give her the time or space to get the words out. She probably noticed that she’s taking me bare, and fuck, I almost forgot how goddamn euphoric this feels. When I finally remove my mouth from hers, I replace it with my hand. She tries to bite my finger, but I use my palm to keep her jaw shut. She’s too beautiful not to have a hundred babies with. Maybe not a hundred, but definitely more than one. I still need to meet my son, but he’s perfect. I already know that.
“Gonna fuck you bare until you give me another son. You can’t tell me I want this because I’m jacked, because it’s not true. I always want you. Every ounce and every fucking breath. And I want more of you, more of us, and another baby. You gonna give that to me?”
I reach around and slowly slide a finger into her ass. Her eyes roll back in her head, and she goes stock-still. I rotate my hips, nice and slow, and breathe heavily into her ear. My hand on her mouth moves down to her clit, and even though it’s fucking challenging to do without falling on her, I manage to twist her swollen nub in just the right way.
“Tell me you want this.”
“Oh fuck. I want it.”
Her words come out on a scream that barely makes any sound. She’s losing her breath, and her heart rate has spiked. I might not let her out of this bed until I get my way.
I scrub my face clean of the memory. I’m pretty sure I fucked her bare for a month straight before I ended up detoxing out of town. That one month of incredible fucking bliss was the last time I saw her until the other day. Every memory from that month came back to haunt me. One stupid idea after another assaults me every night as I try to sleep. I want to see my son, but the idea of how disappointed he might be does a number on me. Maybe I’m uglier than he expects. He probably takes after his mom. I might not know how to talk to him, or I might say the wrong things. Every little what-if leads me back to this paralyzing fear of fucking him up.
Fuck.
The wooden doors to the chapel squeak as they move. I open my eyes to find Jim standing in front of the now-closed doors. He’s staring down at me with a blank expression on his face, and he says, “The fuck you still doing in here?”
“Thinkin’,” I say.
“Takes a lot of effort, don’t it?”
“Pretty sure I’m gonna meet my kid and fuck him up.” I’ve always been an honest guy, but if I weren’t talking to Jim right now I’d feel like a fool.
“Heh. His mom’s had him most his life, so the big fuckup’s will be on her,” he says and sits in my old seat beside me. It’s a strange role reversal I’m still not used to. He might be right, and maybe I won’t have much of an impact on the kid. My stomach sinks at the thought. Fuck. I don’t know if I’m coming or going anymore, and that little memory of the last time I’d seen Amber isn’t helping. I was so trashed that it’s a damn good thing my boys weren’t up for the task. I’ve already fucked up one kid.
“Hey,” I say in a desperate attempt to change the subject. “New York. You thought about it?”
Jim’s face falls, but just a little. He might be softening up as he ages, but he’s still a mean fucker.
“You’re the boss. It’s your call.”
“And if I take a vote?” I ask, prodding.
“Then you’ll find out my answer then.”
He gets up and leaves me, once again, alone in the room and alone in my thoughts.
I need to get the hell out of here.
CHAPTER 8