Chapter 13 Boyfriend
Boyfriend
As the days pass, there are things I discover about Luke.
For one thing, Luke loves foreplay.
He spends a long time touching me, caressing me, kissing me until I’m panting and impatient to have him inside me.
Not only does he take his time reducing me to a quivering, begging mess—using his mouth, his fingers, his tongue—but he enjoys every second for it. Lives for it, I suspect.
Damn crazy cowboy.
I discover that Luke also loves watching me while he fucks me, his gaze crawling over my body with heat and possessiveness.
Very fortunately for me, Luke also loves making me come. His favorite way to do it is to go down on me, and he’s especially happy when he can make me come again while he fucks me.
“Come on my cock, baby,” he’ll murmur to me. “I want to feel you take all the cum I have to give you.”
That’s the other thing about Luke—most of the time he’s careful with his words, scrupulously polite, never even utters a swear word.
But during sex, he’s a talker. Downright filthy with his language. He tells me how beautiful I am, how he can’t get enough of my tight wet pussy, how his cock gets hard just thinking about fucking me during the day.
And when we’re done fucking, the words taper off but the warmth doesn’t. He holds me close afterwards, callused fingers stroking along my bare hips, my collarbone. He kisses me, presses his face to my hair so he can breathe in my scent, holds me to him all night long.
I’m getting addicted to it. Oh, who am I kidding—I’m addicted already. He’s ruined me for any other man.
As much as Luke likes to take his time, he’s also a fan of a quick-and-dirty storage room fuck on our breaks.
I’ve never, ever done anything like that at work, and it feels so dirty and wrong.
Which naturally makes it even hotter.
The first time it happens takes me by surprise. I know Luke is watching me as I slip out from behind the bar and go down the hallway. My skin tingles under his gaze. My nipples tighten in anticipation.
When there’s a knock at the door a minute later, I know it’s him, because he’s still the only one who ever does knock.
His turquoise eyes are hot and dark as they rake over me.
He doesn’t say a word as he closes the door behind us, pushes me up against the wall, and captures my mouth with his.
His kiss is hungry. Demanding. His hands roam over my body like it belongs to him.
His hand possessively squeezes my breast, then trails down my stomach, slipping inside my jeans.
There’s a low sound of satisfaction from him as he circles my clit.
“So wet, baby,” he murmurs. “Is all this for me?”
“None of your business,” I pant.
There’s a huff of laughter against my neck and then the next thing I know, he’s yanking my jeans down. Cool air hits my thighs as his fingers slip inside me.
“This tight little pussy right here is all mine,” he murmurs as his lips graze the shell of my ear. “Damn straight it’s my business.”
He grabs a condom from his back pocket and rolls it on. Then he’s grabbing my ass, lifting me up and pressing me against the wall as his cock nudges at my entrance.
“Luke,” I breathe, “These walls are paper thin. Anyone could know what we’re doing.”
“Then you’d better be quiet. Or everyone here is going to know how hard your boyfriend fucks you.” His teeth scrape along my earlobe. “They’re gonna know just how much you like it.”
With his hand holding my hip, he pushes his cock into me to the hilt. His breathless, restrained grunt goes straight to my pussy and I struggle to muffle my moan.
He’s keeping one hand on my hip as he fucks me, but the other slides up my body, all the way to my jaw. He pushes two fingers into my mouth as he bends down to murmur in my ear.
“You wanna scream, baby,” he says, low and rough, “then you bite down instead.”
He drives his cock into me in thrusts so hard they jolt my whole body. The dark hair at the base of his dick rubs against my clit every time he pounds into me, and it doesn’t take long before the dual sensations cascade helplessly into climax.
I come hard, biting down on him with a stifled cry. He’s seemingly immune to my teeth sinking into his fingers, not stopping his relentless pile-driving into me. But as my pussy clenches down on him, he loses his rhythm.
I can tell when he comes inside me, because he goes still and buries his face in my hair with a muffled groan.
Afterwards, he cups my cheek and pulls me to him for a kiss that’s as tender as the way he fucked me was not.
“You good, baby?” he asks softly, pressing another kiss to my cheek.
“Better than good,” I manage, my whole body still tingling from that orgasm. “Except that now I have to go back out there and act like I didn’t just about get split in half.”
Luke helps me zip my jeans back up and straighten my top and smooth my hair.
“There,” he says. “Gorgeous. Other than that pretty little flush on your cheeks, nobody would ever suspect you came so hard.”
He looks way too proud of himself.
But I guess I can’t really blame him. He did do the damn thing, after all.
Before we go back outside, I put a hand on his chest. “Since when are you my boyfriend? We haven't exactly had the define-the-relationship talk.”
He catches my hand, lacing his fingers through mine. “Well, darlin’, you might be carrying my baby.” He pulls me closer. “I’d say we're a little past the ‘what are we’ stage.”
“That doesn't mean—”
“It means I'm yours and you're mine. It means when someone asks who you are, I'm going to say ‘that's my girl.’ It means I'm all in, no matter what that pregnancy test says.” His thumb brushes across my lips. “So yeah, I'm your boyfriend. And maybe a whole lot more than that.”
Just like that, I have a boyfriend.
And maybe a baby daddy too.
Most of our moments are stolen ones, but occasionally I manage to spend the night at Luke’s place. The cabin on his parent’s land he’s fixing up is cozy and airy all at once, with big windows and high ceilings. I love it.
I love waking up in the morning in the same bed, surrounded by his soft cotton sheets and his strong, firm body pressed against mine.
One morning, I’m tracing the divots of muscle along his arms while he watches me, and I lift my gaze to his.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” I ask him. “With waiting and seeing? Because there are no go-backs if this is real. Not for me.”
He takes my hands and kisses the back of it. “Having it happen so soon might have been a happy accident. But I was already hoping that someday you'd be the mother of my child. Even before I kissed you, if you want to know the whole truth.”
I stare at him, searching his face for any sign he's joking. But his eyes are completely serious, vulnerable in a way I've never seen before. “You were?”
“Madison.” He’s looking at me softly, like he's waiting for me to catch up to something that's right in front of my face.
He cups my face in both hands now, his palms warm against my skin as he looks into my eyes.
When he speaks, his voice is steady and sure.
“I love you. I'm crazy in love with you.”
The breath goes out of my lungs in a rush. The world tilts on its axis.
It's the first time I've ever heard those words. The first time anyone has ever said them to me and meant them.
“You are?” is all I can squeak out.
“I am.” He tenderly strokes his thumb across my cheekbone, catching a tear I didn't realize had fallen. “And considering the circumstances, I really hope you feel the same way about me. But even if you’re not pregnant…”
He smiles ruefully. “Well, I’m still hopelessly in love with you.”
Something breaks open in my chest—something that's been locked up tight for so long I forgot it was even there.
I throw my arms around him, pulling him down against me. I'm crying and laughing at the same time, the emotions overwhelming me in the best possible way. “Of course I love you! How could I not be in love with you?”
He holds me tight, his face buried in my neck, and I can feel him smiling against my skin.
“You're kind and smart and strong and hot as hell,” I babble through my tears, the words tumbling out faster than I can stop them.
“And someday I'll be annoyed with you for never picking up your socks, but I'm pretty sure that's the worst thing I'll ever be able to say about you, because you're the best man I've ever met.”
He pulls back just enough to look at me, and the expression on his face—joy and relief and love, so much love—makes me cry harder.
“Which pretty much makes me the luckiest girl in the universe,” I finish.
“Say it again.”
“That I’m the luckiest girl in the universe?”
“That you love me.” His voice drops to something almost shy. “I want to hear it again.”
My heart swells so big I think it might burst. I frame his face in my hands, making sure he's looking right at me when I say it.
“I love you, Luke Brennan. I'm completely, stupidly, head-over-heels in love with you.”
His answering smile could light up the whole state of Montana.
He rolls on top of me, caging me with his arms as he kisses me again, deeper this time.
I lose myself in the taste of him, the feel of his body against mine, the knowledge that this man—this incredible, loving man—is mine.
When we finally part, I'm dizzy with happiness.
“So,” he says, his forehead resting against mine, “since we've established that we're both crazy in love with each other…” He trails off, his thumb stroking circles on my hip.
“Yes?”
“How do you feel about staying here tonight? Waking up with me tomorrow morning?” His eyes search mine. “And maybe the morning after that, and the one after that, and—”
“Luke,” I interrupt, laughing.
“What? I'm just saying, now that I've got you here, I'm not real eager to let you leave.”
I pretend to consider it, even though my heart is already screaming yes yes yes. “I guess I could be convinced to stay.”
“Oh yeah?” He shifts his weight, settling more fully between my legs, and the heat in his eyes makes my breath catch. “What would it take to convince you?”
I pull him down for another kiss, pouring everything I feel into it, all the love and hope and joy and disbelief that this is actually my life now.
“I think you're doing a pretty good job already,” I murmur against his lips.
His answering laugh rumbles through both our bodies. “Good. Because I plan on spending the rest of my life convincing you to stay.”
We have sex after that.
A lot of it.
And none of the many, many condoms we go through break, no matter how vigorously he fucks me.
But the truth is, we probably didn’t need to use condoms after all.
Because I’ve always been regular. And the day my period is supposed to start… well, it doesn’t.