CHAPTER 40
CARY
What if she’s pregnant?
Cary googled from his phone. Six days! It could take up to six days for conception and another four weeks to confirm it. Four weeks? That was a lifetime. Patience might be a virtue, but it sure as hell wasn’t his.
What was he supposed to do—sit around and wait?
Yeah, no. That wasn’t happening.
He slipped out of bed, grabbed his laptop, and pulled up real estate listings.
Wellington Crescent. The Lounts’ place popped up, and he blinked twice.
That couldn’t be right. The price was less than his penthouse, and it came with acreage, two coach houses, and twenty-thousand square feet of holy-shit-yes. It had been on the market over a year.
He emailed his realtor and lobbed in a lowball offer—just to see if they were serious.
“Cary?” Tyler’s sleepy voice floated from the bed.
He shut off the desk lamp. “Sorry, babe. Didn’t mean to wake you.”
She pulled back the covers—completely naked—and he audibly exhaled.
“Come back to bed and get me pregnant.”
“What if you already are?”
“Then we’ll have twins.”
He grinned, the twitch in his boxers brushing his thigh. Laptop forgotten, he crawled back in bed and kissed her neck, then her stomach, then lower, his tongue slow and steady as her body tensed and trembled beneath him.
After she came, he wrapped a hand around himself, stroking slowly, watching her. The look on her face—eyes half-lidded, lips parted—nearly finished him.
“Make me pregnant,” she said.
He almost did. Right there in his hand.
“Hang on.” He inhaled deeply, willing his pulse to calm. “I need a second.”
“Why?” She squeezed her breasts together. “I thought you wanted to get me pregnant.”
”I do—but if you keep doing that, I’m going to get these sheets pregnant instead.”
She laughed, and he slid inside her. God, she was warm and wet and perfect, and he had to hold still or he’d lose it in seconds.
“Oh my god,” he murmured, moving carefully as she arched into him. “Don’t move. I’m serious.”
He paused to breathe, then started again.
“Just knowing you’re not on birth control is making me crazy.”
“Oh, I noticed.” She tightened around him.
“What am I supposed to do with you?”
“Fuck me.”
“You got it.”
She dragged her nails down his back and that was it—he came hard, chest pressed to hers, breathless.
“I’m going to need a minute,” he panted.
“Stay inside me,” she whispered. “Might help seal the deal.”
“Babe, I’ll stay here forever if it helps. I love you. And—holy fucking shit.”