He pulls out at the last moment, and then comes hard, his cock pulsing and throbbing as white ropes of cum spatter my lower belly and the dark patch of hair above my aching clit. Grainger grinds the head of his dick against that raw, needy flesh before he collapses facedown beside me with a groan, panting and shaking from exertion.
“You idiot,” I murmur, rolling over and straddling his bare ass.
“The hell are you doing?” he grinds out, but he’s in no state to move. What the moron needs now is rest, rest, and more rest. Not wild, uncontrolled sex. I straddle that firm ass of his and then grind my hips against him, like I’m fucking him from behind. I’m not sure that he likes it, but he’s also exhausted and missing me, so he lets me do it, use his body to get myself off.
My hand sneaks between my legs, and I ride my own fingers as I thrust against his ass. The orgasm hits me soon enough, and I close my eyes, enjoying the feel of my own body as it works hard to pleasure my fingers with its contractions.
When I curl up beside him, he surprises me by wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me close. This’ll be our first time having sex and then actually sleeping in the same bed together,
It feels monumental somehow.
He curls his body around mine and bites me in the side of the neck again, making me shiver.
“Everything about this makes sense but for one thing,” he whispers, his voice as dark as the fading shadows at the edges of the room. If we’re going to sleep through part of the day—it seems like that might be a regular thing for these guys—then we’ll need curtains in here. It’s already starting to get too light.
“But for what?” I whisper back, almost too afraid to move, to break this moment apart and realize what I’ve feared all along: that life is dark and bloody and thick with bullshit, and that moments of beauty are too few and far between for it to be worth it. I’ve been rethinking that lately, but I’m scared. I don’t want it to be true. Please, prove me wrong, I beg, but I’m not sure who it is that I’m asking. If Reba were here with me now, she’d suggest asking God.
Personally, I think I’m asking myself that question.
If I make the right choices, if I fight with everything I’ve got, can I make a beautiful life amongst all of these shadows, all of this ugliness?
“Sharing you,” Grainger adds, drawing me so close that there’s no saying where exactly his naked skin ends and mine begins. “You should be mine and mine alone. I’ll regret the mistakes I made that night for the rest of my life.”
I’m not sure what to say to that, so I don’t say anything at all.
We don’t always get everything we want, but if we try really fucking hard, sometimes we might just end up with what we need.
And I need him. I need all of them.
I just hope they need me enough to stick this out.
However this ends up, whether we sink or swim, we’ll do it one way and one way only—together.
All four men are seated at the breakfast table when I walk in, Fem trotting at my heels. He pauses at the sight of so many male humans in one place, grumbles, and then curls up in the far corner with his head on his single paw, glaring daggers at them.
I pause in the doorway to the kitchen as four sets of eyes swing my way. There’s a difference in the atmosphere when they’re all together; it’s a seismic shift in temperature. It’s hot and sticky and strange.
I shake off the feeling, toss my hair, and move over to the coffeepot.
“One cup,” Crown says, because he just has to be an asshole like that.
Sin scoffs at him.
“Really?” He looks my way. “Has he been this bossy all week?”
“Pretty much,” I agree, realizing that my declaration last night is about to make things just that much more difficult for all of us. Pretty sure the guys were waiting in a sort of limbo, wanting to see if I’d actually keep this pregnancy or not. If they were betting men, I think they all would’ve bet on the wrong horse.
“Don’t treat her like a child,” Sin warns Crown, the VP’s voice of reason the way Crown’s always been the voice of reason for Cat. “It’s off-putting.”
“My mother drowned herself in caffeine when she was pregnant with me,” Grainger offers up, and it could very well be the most personal thing he’s ever told me about himself. Raelynn Grainger. I’d love to know more about that woman, and why the hospital staff thought she might show up.
