Some Sort of Love (Happy Crazy Love #3)

“It wasn’t anything I thought I wanted or needed or deserved.”

“Levi,” I whispered, my heart aching for him. “Everyone deserves love.”

“I didn’t want my son,” he continued before I could say anything else. “I didn’t want to be a father.”

He was quiet for a second and I nearly rushed to defend him, but something told me to stay silent and merely listen. He’d bared his body; now he was baring his heart and soul, and I wanted them as much as I wanted the physical.

“I wished, before he was born, that he wouldn’t exist. I thought he was a mistake, and I told Tara I would support her if she decided not to go through with the pregnancy.” He swallowed hard. “Every day, I’m sorry for that. Every single day.”

My throat squeezed so tight I couldn’t have spoken even if I wanted to. This is why, I thought. This is where his guilt comes from, and it’s rooted so deep, twined so inextricably with his love for his son.

“The day he was born, the moment I saw him for the first time, I was overcome by this powerful longing to protect him, this overwhelming love I’d never felt for anyone or anything before. But it was matched by this…shame that I hadn’t wanted him.” He looked up at me. “I’ve never told anyone this before. I hate the words.”

“But that’s not you anymore. You were so young, Levi. And it was so unexpected. Anyone would need time to adjust. It all changed once you saw him, right?”

He nodded. “I held him in my arms and cried, apologizing silently, over and over again. I swore to be a good father.”

“You are, love,” I whispered fiercely. “You are.”

“I’m trying.” He met my eyes again. “And I’ll try to be what you deserve too. But I’m worried I can’t be both.”

“Levi, stop. You can love us both, I promise. You don’t have to choose.” I leaned over and kissed him, softly at first, feeling his cock begin to swell between my legs. I rocked my hips over him, stroking between his lips with my tongue, feeling his hands slide up my back. “I told you—you’re enough…although I can’t seem to get enough.” I sat up and put my fingers in my mouth, and his jaw dropped as I reached between my legs and rubbed myself.

“Jesus Christ.” His eyes were wide, and his dick jumped beneath me.

I knelt over him and he took it in his hand, placing the tip between my legs. I lowered myself slowly, enjoying every inch of hot, bare skin sliding inside me. When I rested on his hips, my body filled with him, I braced my hands above his shoulders and leaned down to brush my lips over his, feeling him grow even bigger and harder inside me.

“Listen to me,” I said. “Yes, this took us by surprise. Yes, the situation is difficult. Yes, we could walk away. But I don’t want to, Levi. I love you. And if you love me, then let’s make it work.”

“I do love you. That I know. But I don’t know when I can do this again,” he said, his hands rubbing my back. “Stay with you like this. And that kills me.”

I started to move over him, whispering in his ear. “Then let’s make every second count.”





I told her, and she still wanted me. I told her everything—and here she was, saying she loved me, taking me inside her, wrapping me up in her softness. How did she know exactly what I needed? How was it possible she wanted to give it to me? This beautiful woman, who loved like an angel and fucked like a porn star…what had I ever done to deserve her?

Stop fucking questioning it. For fuck’s sake, she’s riding your cock like Calamity Jane on crack—just enjoy it!

And that’s when my phone went off.

No. Oh fuck. Please, no.

Jillian stopped moving, her hands falling from where she’d been holding her hair on top of her head. Her breath coming fast, she looked over to the dresser, where I’d set my phone. It was vibrating, the screen lit up.

She looked back at me. “Want to get it?”

No, I don’t want to get it. I want you to keep fucking me like you were. It’s the best thing I’ve ever watched, and I’m about to flood your body like the levees broke. “Give me one second.”

She swung her leg over me and got off my dick, which was immediately cold and angry with me. I went over to the dresser and checked the call—it was my sister.

My stomach clenched. “Hello?”

“Hey. I’m so sorry to call you.”

“That’s OK, what’s up?” But in the background I could hear what was up—a massive meltdown.

“It’s Scotty. He’s upset about the nightlight.”

“Oh, fuck.” I tipped my forehead into my hands. How could I have forgotten to pack the nightlight? And after a tough week, too. Fucking idiot!

“He says he has to have it to sleep?”

I swallowed, so angry with myself I wanted to punch my reflection in the mirror over Jillian’s dresser. “He does.”

“I’ve tried everything—other nightlights, leaving the hall light on, even leaving the bedroom light on, but nothing was right. This is the problem with letting him be so particular about things all the time.”