46. Jensen
46
JENSEN
T here’s something freeing about telling a woman you’re in love with her.
But there’s also something absolutely maddening about watching that same woman devour your cock, gagging as she takes you deeper and not letting up until you’re cursing and muttering incoherently as you spill down her throat.
That second part had only just happened, leaving me panting and exhausted from the way she’d teased the hell out of me before letting me come. Somehow telling Nessa I love her flipped a switch, because she’d been insatiable the last few days since the waterfall.
She leaves for Nashville this weekend and while that would’ve had my lungs constricting, now it only has excitement lighting me up inside. This season will be her last, and I want to make sure it’s everything she needs it to be. I can’t wait to be there every step of the way.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
I want to ignore it, but the three messages in rapid succession have me rolling over to grab my phone.
INDIE: 9-1-1
INDIE: Where are you?
INDIE: JENSEN!
JENSEN: What?! What happened?
Nessa looks at me, concern in her eyes as she curls against my chest. “It’s my sister,” I say even though she can see the screen.
INDIE: You need to promise not to tell Mama and Daddy
JENSEN: Indie…
INDIE: I’m serious. Like the time I broke Mama’s favorite vase and you swore up and down the dog did it.
JENSEN: Why am I always the accomplice?
INDIE: If I had a sister I’d be texting her but I have YOU
JENSEN: Nessa is with me
INDIE: Good - I’m gonna need her too. And I’m so happy y’all are officially together and in love (heart eye emoji)
JENSEN: Umm…
INDIE: Promise me you won’t tell Mama and Daddy
INDIE: Or Sawyer
INDIE: PROMISE ME
JENSEN: Indie just tell me what happened?
INDIE: I swear to God
JENSEN: Mama would hate that
INDIE: (gif of woman screaming in frustration)
INDIE: (gif of woman glaring)
JENSEN: Fine I promise
INDIE: I’m pregnant
I stare at the screen and blink.
And blink again.
Then hit the call button which goes straight to voicemail, the three dots popping back up in our text conversation.
INDIE: I can’t talk right now
JENSEN: You casually drop—I’M PREGNANT—and you can’t talk right now?
JENSEN: Jesus, Indie
INDIE: Who’s taking the Lord’s name now?
JENSEN: (facepalm emoji)
JENSEN: Are you dating anyone?
INDIE: No. Do you honestly think I’d be texting you 9-1-1 if I wasn’t absolutely freaking out right now?
JENSEN: So, a one-night stand then? Or a fuck buddy?
INDIE: Please don’t say fuck buddy
Nessa snickers beside me and I shake my head as I type out another message.
JENSEN: Okay then who is the father?
INDIE: The groomsman from Pen’s wedding
JENSEN: Didn’t she bolt out of the church and into a getaway car before the vows?
INDIE: One and the same
INDIE: But we still had the party
JENSEN: And the afterparty
INDIE: I’m sensing judgment
JENSEN: Not even a little
INDIE: Really? If I was you, I’d be judging me. I mean how cliché is getting knocked up by a groomsman after a botched wedding?
JENSEN: As cliché as getting drunk in a bar and hooking up with the woman you’ve been talking to all night without knowing her name
INDIE: Fair point
JENSEN: Speaking of names, does the groomsman have a name?
INDIE: Beau Sterling
JENSEN: Of course it is
INDIE: Do NOT do a background check on him
JENSEN: I would never
INDIE: You absolutely would
“You totally would.” Nessa laughs, and I elbow her gently, making her laugh harder.
“I’ll need to fly to Montana in September to see her—maybe before that depending on how stubborn she is. And then when we’re settled after the championship we can all go.”
“I like that,” Nessa says sweetly, pressing a kiss to my shoulder.
INDIE: I just need to tell Beau first.
JENSEN: Well let me know what you need.
INDIE: I’m going to need you to not let Mama get on a plane when I tell her.
JENSEN: Let me know and I’ll ask her to watch Remi that afternoon
INDIE: I love you big brother.
JENSEN: I love you too. It’s all gonna work out— you’ll be an amazing mom
INDIE: I’m gonna go before you make me cry xoxo
“Maybe you should fly out there now,” Nessa says, nibbling her bottom lip. “I’ll be in preseason so it’s really the best time, before everything gets really hectic.”
“I’ll think about it,” I say, placing my phone back on the nightstand and rolling her under me, “but right now, the only thing I want to think about is how many times I can make you come before you leave for Nashville.”
“Well, Sheriff, the clock starts now.”