Page 124 of Secret Obsession
She’s suddenly rolling away from me, drawing her legs together. She keeps going right off the other side of the bed, and she hops up. “No. Do you want to hurt me? Is that it? It’s painful enough in a doctor’s office. And there’s a myriad of things that could be off with it. I don’t know if it’s buried itself in my uterus wall—”
“Okay.” I raise my hands in surrender. “I won’t.”
“And I don’t want babies,” she adds. “Ever.”
“Okay,” I reply.
Her expression is… distrustful. I don’t blame her. How many relationships fall apart on thebabyaspect?
“I don’t need a screaming child,” I tell her. “I don’t even need a well-behaved child. I just need you.”
She stalls out. Her hands plant on her hips, and her head tilts. “What?”
I shrug. “I don’t give a shit about babies. I wantyou. I need you. Haven’t I said that enough? That it’s you and me, forever? If you don’t want to get pregnant, that’s fine. If the IUD hurts, you should get it out. And because it freaks you out that much, I’ll take responsibility for it and get snipped.”
I mean, that doesn’t sound like the most pleasant thing on earth, but for her?
Anything.
“Especially if it means we can have fear-free, raw sex,” I add.
She huffs. And a second later, a smile cracks her expression. “Really?”
“Yeah.” I pick a t-shirt and toss it at her, then find my sweatpants.
She trails me to the bathroom. It’s not even that fucking weird to pee in front of her, and her in front of me. We take turns brushing our teeth, and she braids her hair back and ties it off with a mini elastic. My shirt conceals her naked pussy, which is probably for the best. Tony and his boyfriend almost crash into us as we’re coming out of the bathroom.
I wink at him and herd her to safety.
She climbs into bed and watches me pull clothes for her for tomorrow from her drawer—although really, her drawer has expanded into two, and she also has prime real estate in my closet—because our long fucking drive requires us to be up at an ungodly hour.
“What am I wearing?”
“My jersey for luck,” I tell her. “Obviously.”
She snickers, but it’s tinged with exhaustion. “I’ll take care of the report with the police. Your car.”
Clothes done, I crawl into bed behind her. She faces me, still for a moment, then tugs at my sweatpants.
I grin. “You want more?”
Her lower lip sticks out. “Miles.”
“I got you, wild girl.” I kick them off and grip her leg, hitching it up over my hip. She makes no objection, no sound, when I slide back into her. She’s still wet and tight, and my cock is a fucking trooper.
But she just snuggles into me, her head on my chest, and falls still.
And that’s how we sleep.
36
WILLOW
Detective Barrister frowns at the damage to Miles’ car. There’s a tow truck here, the worker bustling around with straps and preparing to load it onto the flatbed, but she pays him no mind.
I’m bundled in my thickest jacket, hat, scarf, and Istillcan’t seem to get warm. It could be a lingering chill from the freezer, or it could be the words the detective is saying. And repeating, judging from her pinched expression.
“Sorry,” I say, shaking my head. “One more time.”
