When she wrapped her legs around his waist, angling her hips so he slipped into her body, it hurt a little but that got drowned out by her body’s strange, urgent, and suddenly revived clamor for connection.
“Holy hell,” he sighed into her neck.
“I love you,” she said. They moved faster, their bodies fulfilling a raw, primal purpose. She arched and he latched onto her nipple. When the orgasm gripped her, tears streamed down her face as she clung to Kent’s sweaty shoulders, her ankles locked around his waist, whispering in his ear. “Come, baby, please, please....”
He groaned and gave one last thrust. Her tears wouldn’t stop. She sobbed while he shivered then pulled out of her, alarm clear on his face.
“Oh, Cara, honey, did I hurt you?”
She shook her head but couldn’t stop crying. He held her close, stroking her arm, making soothing sounds until all she had left were hiccups and a distinct dampness between her legs. Still sniffling, she pushed her hair off her face and sat. Kent lay there, arms behind his head, looking satisfied and sleepy at the same time.
“Lord have mercy, woman,” he said around a jaw-cracking yawn. “What did you drop in my drink?”
Without replying she swung her legs around and put her feet on the wood floor, head spinning as if she were drunk. She needed space, and very likely a morning-after pill, since coming to grips that the transition phase from her monthly pill cycle to a three-month regimen demanded use of alternative birth control. Something she’d skipped now, two days in a row—with two different men.
She ran for the bathroom, slamming the door then leaning her head against its cool surface, hot tears rolling down her face.
“What’s wrong in there?” The puzzlement was clear in Kent’s voice. It had been weeks since they’d been able to have anything remotely like a normal sex life, for reasons that escaped them both. But he’d recovered now it seemed, with a real vengeance, and something about that had her both relieved and sad at the same time.
“Nothing, babe. I’m...sore.” Wincing, she jerked the shower nozzle on, hoping to drown out any further conversation. The soreness was a real thing, but her body tingled all over, juiced up in some kind of bizarre hormonal overdrive. She sat on the toilet, willing Kent to go away and leave her alone.
The door creaked open. Kent smiled at her, arms crossed over his chest, his huge dick half-soft, nestled against his thigh. It seemed…smug.
Ridiculous.
She hoped that being pregnant would not make her insane and delusional.
Oh Jesus Lord Almighty, help me. I am pregnant, right now as I sit here. But damn me if I know whose kid it is.
Forcing her face into a semblance of a smile when Kent pulled her to her feet, she pressed her face to his chest, sucking in deep breaths of him. Suppressing the infernal tears she flicked her tongue across his nipple, which made him shiver and, unbelievably, his cock stir against her belly.
“No way, mister. I’m done for a few—”
“Hours?” He grinned and pulled her close again.
“Did you take something? Seriously? I mean, you know. Not that I’m complaining.” She sighed as he teased her nipple and nibbled her neck. “Stop.” But it came out an unconvincing whisper.
“I don’t know what it is about you today my love, but I wanna fuck you three more times, take a nap, and start all over again. Mmmm....” He flipped around so she could brace herself on the tiny sink. Thinking she’d humor him, Cara acknowledged she was just as revved and ready as she’d been hours before.
Chapter Nine
As he drove the twenty or so miles from his parents’ house into town Kieran’s head began to clear. The windows were down and the tunes cranked. The sun shone. Signs of summer—his favorite season—were all around him. Parks packed with families, all the basketball courts and swimming pools overflowing. The sight of a gaggle of boys on bikes riding alongside him for a while, singing along with whatever random, crappy rap song currently polluted the airwaves had him smiling.
“Hey, it’s Kieran Love!” one of the punks shouted after a few blocks. “Can you come over and shoot a few with us?”
He waved and drove on, the sound of their cheerful unhappiness at his refusal filling his ears, taking the stretch of the four-lane road at seventy miles an hour, pressing the gas pedal to the floor, the throaty, powerful roar of the car’s engine revving him from head to toe.
It would be all right because he and Melinda loved each other. They had from the moment they’d met. He passed some grandpa in a Toyota, as the deep-green fields surrounded by picturesque white fences and dotted with horses filled both sides of his vision.