“You feel better than I remember.”
“You do too.”
Pulling out, Nate looks down at where we’re connected and thrusts all the way inside and stops again before leaning down and kissing me with so much passion that it takes my breath away.
“Maggy, you feel so fucking good. I can’t believe you’re in my bed. I can’t believe….” He stops talking as he moves almost entirely out of me, then pushes back in harder. He begins to thrust in and out of me faster and faster. He’s moaning my name and I love that. Then he brings his hand down and rubs my clit again. That coupled with him inside of me is unreal. I feel an orgasm building, and I know it’s going to be better than the first one.
“Nate, I’m going to come.”
“I’m close too. Come, Maggy.”
When I shout his name, he shouts mine at the same time.
I guess we’re loud, because a squawk sounds from the baby monitor next to his bed. “Oops.” I giggle.
“Your turn,” I say, slapping Nate’s firm, round ass.
Nate has been wonderful about helping me with Brynn, especially in the middle of the night. We started taking turns getting up. I’m not really sure how it happened. It wasn’t like we discussed it. It happened organically. When it’s his turn, he’ll get her out of her crib, change her, then bring her in to me to nurse. When she’s fed and sleepy, he returns her to the crib, and off he goes to his own room. We rarely have to communicate when that happens in the middle of the night. Our system is unspoken.
When it’s his turn, I sometimes hear him talking to her through the baby monitor, and goodness, he says the sweetest things to her. He tells her things like, “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world,” and, “I love you, Brynn. I’m so lucky to have you.”
Oh, geesh. That’s the one that really gets me. Nate means it too. I know it.
“Yep, my turn.” He rolls off me as we hear her start to cry. Nate picks up the pace as he opens a dresser drawer and slips on another pair of athletic shorts. “Be right back.”
So, I wait. Pulling up the sheet enough to cover myself, I stare at the open door in anticipation. I’m not disappointed either. Nate, bare chested, holding our daughter is a sight.
“She’s hungry.” He chuckles. “She thinks she’s going to get something from me.” Brynn’s searching blindly on Nate’s chest.
“Come ’ere,” I say, raising my arms to her. Once she’s nestled into me, she latches on, making soft little whimpering sounds as she nurses.
“Watching the two of you together like this...” He’s staring at us. “It’s breathtaking.”
Giving him a sincere smile, I raise my hand. “Come back to bed.”
And he does.
36
Nate
For some reason,the last few days, things have been awkward between Maggy and me. After the morning we—I thought—consummated our relationship, Maggy seemed to pull away from me.
In obvious ways.
For example, the afternoon after, she suddenly had to “go out.” We’d made plans to take Brynn to the park together, but that changed to just Maggy and Brynn going out. Which meant I was left home, alone.
They didn’t come back for hours either. When I asked her where she’d gone, all she said was, “Robin’s.”
Dinner that night was quiet too. Maggy barely ate a thing, and I’d ordered in pizza from one of her favorite places. I even got her the toppings she likes, but lord help me, how anyone could like artichokes on a pizza is beyond me.
I digress.
Since that morning, not gonna lie, I’m starting to feel just a tad self-conscious. Maybe I’ve lost my touch. Maybe it wasn’t as good as I thought.
And I thought it was fantastic.
PerhapsIwasn’t as good. It’s possible. I haven’t been with anyone for months. Not since that one time with her. Yeah. Months.
