Chapter 6
Rory
“All done.” John used his forearm to wipe the sweat away from his forehead as he walked out of the bathroom.
“Uh . . .” With my brain short-circuiting, I was at a loss for words.
The man was beyond attractive, but with his dark hair pulled into a bun at the crown of his head, he was irresistibly sexy. My mouth filled with saliva, and all I could think about was jumping his bones.
I could have probably blamed the pregnancy hormones for my persistent horniness, but the truth was, pregnant or not, I always wanted John.
There was a pull between us I couldn’t quite explain.
All I knew was that when he was inside me, that was the only time I was able to quiet my mind, to block out my past and the fears surrounding whether it would come back to haunt my future, and I craved that peace.
Plus, the mind-blowing orgasms sure didn’t hurt either.
Cosmo let out a sharp bark, jolting me back to reality.
“What’s done?”
John crossed the room, kneeling to scratch our dog behind his ears. “Installation of the temporary shower handle and non-slip strips on the bottom of the tub.”
“Don’t you think that’s a tad excessive?” I’d just reached the start of the second trimester; it would be a while before my center of gravity was impacted by a giant baby belly.
He shook his head. “I’m not taking any chances when it comes to you and our baby.” His hand found my stomach, a smile tipping up on his lips as he spread his fingers wide over the barely-there bump. “Our baby, Ro. I still can’t believe it.”
The moment was so tender that my heart felt like it might burst, and before I knew what I was doing, I blurted, “I love you.”
Wide green eyes lifted. “You do?”
Nodding shyly, I rushed out, “I don’t expect you to say it back. I know it hasn’t been very lo—”
He cut me off with a kiss, murmuring against my lips, “I love you too.”
I was on him in a flash, knocking him to his back on the floor.
“Whoa. Careful, babe.” John steadied me with his hands on my hips as I straddled him.
Shoving his shirt up his insanely muscular torso, I peppered kisses from his abs to his chest. “Need you,” I rasped against his skin, rocking my hips when I felt his erection growing between my spread thighs.
He groaned, eyes sliding shut. “You have me.”
Fuck, his husky voice sent a bolt of lust straight to my core, and I whimpered.
Working furiously to undo his fly, I yanked his pants down, freeing his cock. Thick, long, and already leaking precum, his stiff shaft pointed straight toward the ceiling, and I wasted no time in hiking up my skirt, hooking my panties to the side, and sinking down onto it.
The moan that rolled up my throat mixed with John’s groan. His piercings hit just right every time, no matter the position. Grinding down on the one that rubbed against my clit, I used the metal ball to work me into a frenzy before I lifted onto my knees and began to really ride him.
John pinched my nipples, and I cried out. They were so sensitive now that the lightest touch walked the line between pleasure and pain. But he knew I loved it, especially when I breathlessly begged for more.
It had barely been a few minutes, and already, I could feel that familiar pressure building between my legs.
“I wish you could see how beautiful you are, pregnant and bouncing on my cock,” John grunted, and those words tipped me over the edge.
My back bowed, and my hips bucked wildly as I rode the waves of ecstasy endlessly rolling through me.
Stars burst before my eyes, and I was only vaguely aware of the man I loved beneath me, his hips pumping frantically as he chased his own release.
Then came the sudden bite of his fingers digging into my flesh hard enough to leave bruises, his strangled groan sounding as our bodies crashed together one final time.
With him buried deep, I felt the pulsing of his cock as he emptied inside me, the muscles of my core rippling involuntarily around it, milking him dry.
I collapsed atop his chest, humming with contentment as his hand stroked down the length of my hair. The rapid rhythm of his heart beating beneath my ear was almost enough to lull me to sleep.
John’s arms provided a feeling of safety I’d never experienced before, and in my post-orgasmic blissed-out state, I almost began to believe that love could conquer all.
“Are you going to have freckles like your mama, little one?”
My fingers carved a path through John’s long, dark hair while he carried on a one-sided conversation with the baby in my belly as we lay in bed, his lips brushing against my skin with every word.
“Sometimes, when she’s sleeping,” John continued speaking, “I try to count the perfect constellation of them right across the bridge of her nose, and I can’t think of anything better than continuing that tradition with you cuddled up in my arms late at night.”
A tear leaked from the corner of my eye. Our baby was beyond lucky to have this incredible man as their father. They would be the recipient of an unconditional love I couldn’t have even dreamed of as a child.
When I couldn’t stop a sniffle, green eyes filled with concern lifted. “Ro? Are you crying?”
Wiping beneath my nose with the back of my hand, I uttered a “no” that wasn’t the least bit convincing.
John shifted so he could cradle my face, thumbing away the moisture coating my cheeks. “What’s wrong?”
I blinked rapidly in a futile attempt to keep from making a hormonal fool of myself, and my voice came out thick when I confessed, “They’re happy tears. You’re gonna be such a good daddy, John.”
He dropped his gaze and, even in the darkness, I caught the color blooming on his cheeks. “You think?”
“No doubt in my mind.”
He settled one giant hand over the hard ridge of my growing stomach. “You and this baby, you’re my entire world. I hope you know that.”
My hand joined his over the life we’d created together. “I do. Your love surrounds me every day.”
After the light brush of a kiss over my lips, John returned his attention to my belly, his fingers skimming over the firm swell. “Have you felt any movement? The books say it can be noticeable as early as fourteen weeks, but with a first pregnancy, it might be closer to twenty weeks.”
“Maybe?”
“Really?” John’s eyes lit up.
“It’s hard to tell. Sometimes it feels like there are bubbles popping beneath my skin, and other times it’s almost as if there are butterflies fluttering around in there.”
“That’s amazing,” he breathed. “I can’t wait until they get bigger and stronger so I can feel them wiggle around in there too. We’ve seen them on the ultrasound, but it’s still hard to believe there’s actually a tiny person in there.”
“I know what you mean.”
Even with my changing body, there were days I struggled to wrap my mind around the reality of the situation. Seriously, how was it possible that in twenty-three weeks, a doctor would hand me a helpless little baby that I would be responsible for from that day forward? It was absolutely surreal.
Silence stretched between us for so long that I began to wonder if John had fallen asleep until he asked, “Can I take you shopping tomorrow after you’re done with work?”
“Shopping?” I cocked my head. “For what?”
“Baby stuff. I don’t know about you, but the clock feels like it’s ticking faster and faster with each week that passes. I want to be prepared.”
I sat up, and my eyes darted around the small apartment where I could see the kitchen, living room, and front door from our position in bed.
Panic surged in my veins, and my voice rose in pitch.
“Where are we going to put a baby, let alone a crib? This place is a shoebox, and I can’t afford anything bigger. ”
“Hey, hey, hey.” John gripped my chin, turning me to face him. “Deep breaths. It’s going to be just fine.”
My chest rose on a ragged inhale. “B-b-but it’s not fine,” I protested, my windpipe closing up.
He dropped his forehead to mine. “Yes, it is. Because you can move in with me. I have enough space for all three of us. And it’s close to that park Cosmo likes.”
“John.” His name came out on a sigh. “You know why I can’t.” We’d been over this more times than I could count.
Huffing, he slid both hands into his long hair, tugging at the roots. “I’m not your ex. I want to take care of you, not control you. Haven’t I made that clear by now?”
“I need a safety net!”
His brows furrowed, causing his glasses to slide down the bridge of his nose. “What are you talking about?”
My trauma-induced hysteria reached critical mass, and I began to hyperventilate. “Wh-what if you change your m-mind after the b-b-baby gets here and I end up homeless?”
John leapt into action, placing both hands on my face and coaxing gently, “Breathe, baby. I’m not going to change my mind. I love you, remember?”
I shook my head, tears flooding my eyes.
“B-b-but babies cry a lot. I could develop postpartum depression, leaving you to take care of a newborn all alone. A-a-and my vagina’s gonna get all stretched out.
You’re never going to want to have sex with me again after watching me give birth.
” That final fear fell from my lips on a broken sob.
“Ro, sweetheart, you’re breaking my heart.
I know it’s difficult for you to trust after what you’ve been through, so it’s up to me to remind you every day, with words and actions, that my presence in your life isn’t something you ever have to question.
No amount of sleepless nights with an inconsolable newborn, changes in your mental health, or the physical impact of you giving me the greatest gift I could ever receive is ever going to affect how I feel about you.
You’re stuck with me now. It’s you and me and little nugget”—one of his hands left my face to cradle my belly—“forever, okay?”
Through hiccups so violent my chest ached, I asked, “H-how can you be so s-sure?”