Her hands covered her mouth as she shook her head, and my heart sank.
“I forgot, Lincoln, I’m so sorry.”
“What is it, babe?” I asked, already knowing the answer and getting ready for my own version of a walk of shame.
“I’m not on birth control.” Her voice was barely audible.
I froze, my cock still buried inside her, heat pulsing hard as her words sank in. She was shaking, eyes wide, hands pressed over her mouth holding her words in.
“I-I’m not on birth control,” she whispered again, voice trembling, ashamed.
I had to force myself to keep still. My hands didn’t loosen on her waist; if anything, I held her closer, wanting her pressedagainst me so she couldn’t pull away. Her hesitation, that tiny bit of fear and shame, made something deep inside me roar.
“Baby…,” I murmured, voice rough, thumb stroking along her cheek.
She shook her head. “I usually am, I-I swear I forgot.” She bit her lip, eyes darting to mine, expecting me to be mad.
Heat pooled low in my stomach. I imagined her belly swollen with my child. A hard, needy reminder of how much I wanted her, my cock catching up with me to pulse inside of her. “Fuck… you’re mine,” I whispered, teeth grazing her ear. “That’s all I care about.”
Her hands trembled against my shoulders, pressing into me as if testing whether I’d push her away. “That’s insane, Lincoln, we’ve been seeing each other for five minutes.”
“Maybe…,” I breathed, but all I could picture was her pregnant, radiant, and the thought made me ache to protect her—them. I’d make this work. I’d make thisright. “But damn… just thinking about a baby with you…” My hand pressed into her hip, pulling her closer, letting her feel the full weight of how much I wanted her.
“I… I’m scared,” she admitted, voice small and soft. Her eyes shone hesitance, afraid I’d pull away.
I grinned, leaning down to press my forehead to hers. “You don’t need to be,” I whispered, caressing her spine, then resting my hands possessively on her ass. “Your choice. Sleep on it. We can always get Plan B. Or we figure this out, together. I want you, all of you…, consequences, doubts, everything. I don’t give a fuck about anything else.”
Her breath hitched at my words, and I felt the flush of her heat against me, the trembling of her body beneath my touch. It made my cock pulse harder, my mind and body igniting in a way that was all about her, all about this closeness, all about claiming her in the safest, most intimate way I knew.
Her silence lodged in my chest, but I chose to focus on grabbing the water bottle from the nightstand and put it in her hand. “Sip.”
She did, obedient, and I used the time to shift the pillows higher, making sure she stayed propped up. When she handed the bottle back, I tossed it aside and lay next to her, pulling her against me so her head stayed elevated.
Her fingers trailed down my ribs, and she traced the outline of the bird, slow and curious. Her hand kept exploring, and soon enough, she found them, the silvery rugged lines that told my story. She’d slowed down on each of them as if reading braille on my body.
She leaned in and kissed me, slow and unhurried. No dominance, no urgency. Maybe she wasn’t ready to tell me, but I felt it pouring in every stroke of her tongue against mine. From now on, it was Nina and me breathing the same air, finally on the same damn page.
27
Nina
Iwoke up in Lincoln’s arms. He’d thrown one leg over my hips, his head nestled between my breasts, and his breaths hardened my nipple. I shifted in place, and Lincoln’s growing cock pulsed between us, long and heavy against my leg. I clenched my thighs, rubbing against him, and he groaned, eyes rolling behind his eyelids.
I’d slept with Lincoln. I wasn’t an idiot. I knew it was coming, but I couldn’t help thinking I’d skipped a step. Or five, or that I’d taken something from him I wasn’t ready to give.
“Nina, I love you,”he’d said.“I loved you even when I didn’t know how.”And I hadn’t said it back.
I searched for his scars and ink with my fingertips, half expecting him to wake up startled as he had that night. Instead, he breathed me in and settled further into sleep, as if his body knew he was the safest he’d ever been. It was a mindfuck to admit to myself that, in his arms, in the broken edges of his caring embrace, I felt safer than I had since my parents lived.
Safe enough I’d forgotten about birth control. The panic should have lasted longer. It’d been a sharp second of my heart shooting up my throat. Then he looked at me. Not just like I’dgiven him the world but as if I held his future in my hands. And now, lying here with him wrapped around me as if I was his safe place, all I could think about was how terrifyingly right it had felt.
He curled his hand between us, stretching his finger over my belly, and a shamefully delicious feeling took root. I imagined a piece of us growing inside me—snarky dimples, sharp tongue, tender brown eyes. The idea left me flushed and hot, toes curling under the sheet.
He murmured something in his sleep and pulled me closer, his chest pressed against me, and I bit my lip to keep this ridiculous ache in my throat in check.
He’d left it up to me. My choice. I knew how it worked. There’d be vomiting. Fatigue. Dizziness. Abdominal pain that could make it hard to breathe. It wasn’t dangerous. Doctors had assured me.
But the truth was, up until recently, my whole life had been spent in reaction. To my parents’ deaths. To Vinny’s parents. To losing my job. Even to Lincoln when he’d hurt me.
