Page 67 of Trying Not to Need You

My answer is to wiggle my hips, and he groans as his cock slides against my heat. “You tell me,” I quip.

“My girl’s ready,” he says, pulling back just enough to align himself at my entrance. He gives no warning as he slowly pushes inside me. I push back against him, needing more. I want all of him, in every way.

“There it is,” he says, once he’s buried deep. “Grip the sheets,” he says, before pulling out and thrusting back in. By the third stroke, I already feel my orgasm starting to build. “You want a baby, Bay? You better come on this dick, sweetheart.”

“Mac—” I cry out for him. “More,” I pant, leaning forward, resting my forehead against the mattress. I grip the sheets, anchoring myself in place, as he unleashes his desire on me. I love every minute of it. Sex with Macklin is an out-of-body experience, like nothing I’ve ever felt. Fast, slow, playful, it doesn’t matter. Everything in my life is better with Macklin.

“I feel you squeezing me, sweetheart.” He smacks my ass, and my body clenches around him. “There you go,” he says, not relenting in the power or the speed of his thrust.

“Don’t—”

“I’m not stopping. Not until you soak my cock. Are you going to be my good girl and come for me?”

That’s it.

Game over.

I cry out his name, screaming it into the mattress, while pleasure ripples through my body.

“Fuck! Yes. I feel you, baby. I’m right there.” He grunts, his thrusts becoming erratic, before his body stills. He’s leaning over, resting gently against me. His warm, sweaty skin is pressed against me, tethering us together. “Are you okay?”

“Is that a real question?” I ask, my voice breathy, still trying to recover from my release. “I’m more than okay, cowboy.”

“Good.” He kisses the back of my neck before pulling out of me, and I roll to my back.

“I read that you shouldn’t stand for thirty minutes after sex, and that you should prop your legs up, tilting your pelvis if you’re trying to get pregnant.”

“What? They put that in the rodeo magazines you’re always reading?”

“No. But the internet is full of information.” He smirks.

“Should I? I mean, should we try that as a last resort?”

“Fuck that. We’re making a baby. There is no last resort, Bay. Come on. I’ll lie with you.” He moves until he’s lying on his back, his head at the foot of the bed, and props his legs up on the headboard.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

“The hell I don’t. Together, Baylor. You and me and our babies. You’re going to be doing nine hard months—well, almost ten, if what I’m reading is right—so anything I can do to be with you throughout this, I’m all in.”

What do I say to that? Nothing. That’s what.

So, I turn, prop up my legs just like he does, and look at him, only to find he’s already watching me.

“Thank you for tonight. The rodeo, it was fun.”

“Just the rodeo?” I tease.

“Let’s wait the thirty minutes, we’ll shower, wash off the sweat, and I’ll thank your pussy for milking me dry.”

“Macklin!” I sputter with laughter.

“Love that sound, Bay.”

“I love you,” I tell him, meaning it with every fiber of my being. Macklin McBride rode into my life at the exact moment I needed him. We can’t dwell on the years we missed. I’m just glad he held on and took his shot when he had the chance.

Eighteen

Macklin