Not using protection should scare me. With Hayes, it doesn’t.
“I haven’t been with anyone in a while. Had my yearly physical not all that long ago, if that’s what you’re worried about,” I tell him while running my fingers up and down his back.
He lifts his head and looks at me. “Not at all. It’s been a few years for me. Annual physical for the job, every year and, like I said, never gone without one before. Are you on the pill or something?”
I bite my lip and shake my head. “No. I hated the way it made me feel, so I stopped taking it because I wasn’t seeing anyone or sleeping with anyone for that matter.”
His cock, still nestled inside me, jumps.
“God. I’m such a fucking prick.” I’ll give him credit, he tries really hard not to smirk.
“Being pregnant with your baby wouldn’t be the end of the world. Would it?” I ask nervously. Deep down, I think I already know the answer.
He rolls his hips, and that smirk he was trying to fight is on full display now. “What do you think?”
“I think that you knocking me up would be the best Christmas present I could ever ask for.”
eight
. . .
Hayes
Emmy’s curled against me,one bare leg hooked over mine, her head tucked beneath my chin like it’s the most natural place in the world for her to be.
Her scent lingering on my skin. The taste of her on my tongue.
Add in the thought of her getting pregnant with my child?
I’m a fucking goner.
This is exactly why I never let myself imagine it too hard before.
Because now? I’m ruined.
Addicted to her in an uncontrollable way.
She shifts, pressing even closer, a soft sound escaping her throat as she burrows into my side. I’m helpless against it—against the way my heart pulls toward her like it’s got its own damn compass.
I brush a kiss against her forehead.
She stirs, lashes fluttering. “Hayes?”
“Hi.” I grin at her.
She shifts again, stretching like a cat in the morning sun. The sheet slides down her back and it takes everything in me not to pull her right back under me and start worshiping her all over again.
“I wish I could stay,” she murmurs, fingers tracing over my heart. “Really, I do. But I should probably get home.”
I swallow a groan. Not from irritation. But from wanting her to stay so badly that it borders on painful.
“Well,” I say, brushing a thumb across her shoulder, “I’m not kicking you out.”
A soft, breathy laugh spills from her, her shoulders lifting in a helpless little shrug as though gravity hasn’t fully found her again. Her cheeks flush deeper, and she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear with fingers that still tremble. “I know. That’s the problem.”
I tilt her chin toward me. “Hey. No regrets?”
Her expression turns earnest in an instant. “None.”
