Chapter 12
“Oh, no. No, no, no.” I snap out of the almost-sex-induced stupor I was under and scramble off of James’s lap, nearly falling on my butt before catching myself with my hand on his knee, then quickly jerking it back as if it stung me. Panic grips me, and I cup my hand over my mouth so I don’t get too loud—as if I wasn’t loud enough to wake the entire hotel when James made me cum twice. Twice!
James’s earlier expression of ecstasy shifts quickly to one of concern and maybe even…disappointment? “What’s wrong, angel?”
I can’t believe I’m really standing in front of James in nothing but my panties, which are still pulled to the side. With trembling hands and in a very unladylike manner, I shift my panties back in place. My hand comes away sticky and wet. So freaking wet. My chest, my stomach, my panties, my thighs. It’s all wet with our combined cum and even a little milk that’s leaked from my breasts.
A little whine escapes my throat before I can get the words out. “What if some of it got inside me? What do we do?”
James grins. It’s gone in a flash, but he freaking grinned as if he likes the idea of his cum inside me, which is crazy! Oh god, this is so bad. When my eyes bug out, he further schools his expression, but I don’t miss the fact that his huge dick is swelling again. He’s wet, too…everywhere. His abs—god, I love those abs—are smeared with cum, and I tear my eyes away, though the image will forever be seared into my brain.
I have to get out of here and clean myself off. I grab his T-shirt off the floor and hightail it out of the living room. I stumble through the dark bedroom in search of my suitcase so I can replace my cum-soaked panties with a clean pair.
Somehow, someway, the babies are still asleep, thankfully. James steps into the bedroom with his dick tucked back in his sweatpants just as I close the bathroom door behind me. I lock it in case he gets it in his head to take a shower with me. Because if he did…if we were both naked and slick with cum and soap and water, I might—I don’t want to think about what I might do.
I hiss when I soap between my legs, my pussy lips and clit overly sensitive from the way he fingered me and all of the grinding I did afterward. I spend most of the shower simply standing under the hot water, replaying the way he moaned, “My beautiful angel,” and how it made my heart flip.
Afraid the noise from my shower will wake Grayson and Lainey, I rinse one more time between my legs before climbing out of the shower and pulling on James’s T-shirt and a pair of decidedly less sexy plain white panties. Then I just stare at the bathroom door after throwing my sticky black panties in the small trash can under the sink, not quite ready to face James yet as my thoughts spiral.
Why didn’t I get on birth control after having Lainey?I mean, I know why. I didn’t expect to have sex for a long, long time. Though James and I didn’t technically have sex in the traditional sense, there was a lot of bare skin on skin action and bodily fluids, and…What if I get pregnant again? Already, it’s hard to catch my breath as I think through the consequences if that were to happen. I have to push those thoughts away because if I don’t, I’ll start panicking for real.
Inhaling deep through my nose and out through my mouth, I finally unlock and open the door. James is sitting silently on the edge of the bed facing the bathroom, and I immediately drop my gaze to the floor. I can’t meet his eyes. I’m afraid of what I might see on his face—if he’s upset by what just happened or angry that I ran out on him again as soon as we were done.
I take a quick peek at the babies using my phone’s flashlight, then keep my head down as I climb into bed on the opposite side of James and pull the covers up to my chin. I lay on my side with my back to him and hear him sigh. The bed shifts as he stands, and I hear the click of the bathroom door closing, then the sound of the shower running.
He’s much quicker than I was, though I pretend to be asleep already when he comes out of the bathroom. I open one eye a smidge to see him walk around the bed wrapped in just a towel around his narrow waist, and I mentally chastise myself for wishing he hadn’t bothered with the towel. He rummages in his suitcase for a minute, then quietly leaves the bedroom carrying a wad of clothing.
I notice he’s left the door ajar as he did earlier, and I try not to think about him sleeping alone on the couch after what we just did. Try not to think about how wrong it feels to sleep separately after being so intimate with him.
Not that I meant for it to happen. I didn’t. After last night, when I first lost my mind and offered to comfort him, I never expected to do it again, not when I felt like I had taken advantage of him. When I sat on the couch next to him earlier, I still wasn’t thinking of comforting him. It just happened.
Of course, I’ve always thought he was attractive, and we’ve grown extremely close, but I never thought we’d actually cross the line into having some kind of a sexual relationship—much less one that I initiated—since I know he was silently freaked out when he found out I’m still in high school. I’m forced to admit to myself that my feelings for him go way beyond just simple attraction. Beyond simply caring about him and the unusual friendship I’ve developed with the quiet, older neighbor across the street.
I’ve spent so much time with James and Grayson that it’s almost like they’re mine—my James and my Grayson. But they aren’t. They can’t be. Not when he is a grown man who already has his life set up with his own home and career securely in place. Not at this point in my life when I’m still undecided about where my future—Lainey’s future, too—is headed after high school.
Thirty minutes later, I’m still failing at not thinking about him, about the way he gripped my hips and made me cum on his fingers and called me his angel. He’s called me an angel several times before, which I thought was flattering, but calling me his angel is different. Warmth had bloomed in my chest and settled in my belly when he said it, and I liked the idea of being his in some way.
I also wonder how he was going to finish his sentences before he cut himself off. “I’ve never—this is the first—” Did he mean he’s never fingered a woman? Or has he never touched a woman intimately at all? I don’t know why either of those scenarios gives me a little tingle in my lower belly. I’ve never done any of this before, either, even though I’m not a virgin.
There’s the sound of shuffling feet just outside the bedroom door, and I open my eyes the barest amount. James steps into the room and walks around to the opposite side of the bed. I hold my breath, waiting to see what he’s going to do.
I slowly let it out when the mattress dips behind me under his weight. There’s a brief flash of cold air when he lifts the covers and slides under them. My heart starts racing as I think about sleeping in the same bed with him. He stays on his side for a few long minutes, twisting and turning and trying to get comfortable, I imagine. Just as my racing heart starts to slow, he shifts.
Slowly, ever so slowly, he inches his way closer like he’s afraid he’ll wake me, and I’ll tell him to leave. He still hasn’t touched me, but I can feel his body heat at my back. A shiver travels down my spine when his warm puffs of air fan the back of my neck with my hair pulled up in a bun like this. I don’t move a muscle, but he has to know by now that I’m awake simply by how fast I’m breathing.
We lay like that, not touching for a few more minutes until he finally, tentatively, lays his hand on my waist, resting it lightly in the dip between my ribs and the curve of my hips. He blows out a breath that tickles my ear, and I finally give up the pretense of being asleep.
I peek over my shoulder and whisper, “James?”
“Is this okay?” His voice is low and smooth and so sexy that I clench my thighs together. His palm slowly shifts forward until his elbow rests on my waist, and he splays his hand wide over my shirt and stomach. I would feel self-conscious about him feeling the post-partum softness of my lower belly if I hadn’t seen how his eyes had flared with lust when I took my shirt off earlier.
I nod, afraid of what I’ll sound like if I answer him out loud. I even scoot back a few inches until my back is pressed against his lean chest, his body heat enveloping me. He bends his knees so they’re resting behind mine, and I finally, finally fall asleep with James spooning me, holding me like I really am his.
His angel.