Plan B (Best Laid Plans #2)(14)

"I didn't say stop," she hisses, seemingly incredulous that I've indeed stopped touching her. She turns to face me, fingers already on my belt, the buckle free a second later. "I said stop touching my tits, they hurt."

Not exactly what she said, but okay. She's already got my zipper down and her hand around my cock so I'm not going to argue with her about semantics right now.

She strokes me with her fist, short rough jerks that speak of her impatience to have me inside of her far more than words could. I slide my hand over hers to slow the pace and lengthen the strokes of her hand because I'm not looking to blow my load before we've even started.

Then I lean down and cover her lips with mine. I start with a soft press of my lips against hers, before pushing harder, invading her mouth with my tongue. Exploring, nipping at her bottom lip, dragging it between my teeth while I nip and suck and taste every bit of her.

When she whines and presses even closer I know she's had enough of whatever fucked-up foreplay this is. I spin her back toward the mirror and bend her over the counter, rid her of the panties and kick her legs open with a harsh, "Wider," when she doesn't move fast enough. When she's positioned exactly how I want her I nudge myself inside of her. Christ.

Wet. Soft. Slick. Hot. Tight. Perfection.

She squeezes herself around me and pushes back, trying to get me deeper.

I slide in. Slowly, inch by inch until I've bottomed out and she makes a little humming noise in her throat and wiggles her ass against me.

Daisy's forearms are braced on the bathroom countertop, holding her chest above the surface, giving me a clear view of her tits bouncing each time I thrust. That's a fucking sight, let me tell you.

I watch her in the mirror, reveling in the setup of fucking her this way. I can look down and watch myself disappearing between the twin globes of her ass. See how wet my dick is with every long stroke out. Look in the mirror and watch her tits jiggle with each penetration. Grip her hips and watch her plush lips as they part on the sexiest of grunts, mewling keens of enjoyment, whispers of yes, yes, yes falling from her mouth. Look at her eyes reflected in the mirror, her gaze focused on my bow tie, eyes narrowed in contempt.

I tug it off, resisting the urge to stuff it into her smart mouth.

Jesus Christ. I'm fucking her in my bathroom while still fully dressed. This reunion is... something.

But I'm close to release and I need her there with me because contrary to what she thinks, I have manners.

Also, I think she's liable to turn my toothbrush into a shank to murder me with if I don't get her off. So I wrap my hand in that perfect mane of dark hair and tug, just enough to cause the tiniest bit of pain. Just enough to energize a few nerve endings, then slide my other hand around her hip to her clit. Two fingers, around around around. She's slick and my fingers glide in rapid beats while my balls tighten and throb as I hold off until her mouth opens on a silent gasp, her shoulders drop and her pussy tightens around me and it feels like goddamned heaven. I'm right behind her, managing to hold on to my own release for mere seconds longer.

I rest my hands on the counter beside her head, catching my breath. Still inside of her.

I nip at the back of her neck with my teeth then stand, reluctantly pulling out of her as I do. She looks like a lewd fantasy bent over my counter, legs spread. I tuck the vision away in my memory as she makes a noise best described as a purr that quickly dissolves into a hiss as she stands.

"Did you seriously just fuck me without a condom?" She looks at me over her shoulder, glaring at me like it's possible to get pregnant twice before stomping over to the toilet, grabbing some tissue and wiping me off of her thighs.

Jesus, that's hot. Why is that so hot? What in the hell is wrong with me?

"What in the hell is wrong with you?"

"Relax," I mutter, shrugging as I tuck myself back into my pants simply because I'm sure the gesture will annoy her.

"Relax?" she deadpans. Yeah, she's annoyed. "Are you some special kind of idiot, Kyle? What if I was lying? What if I wasn't pregnant and you just impregnated me right this second? Huh? How many baby mommas do you have?"

"Are you lying?"

"No!"

"Okay. So that was a pointless conversation?"

"It wasn't pointless," she snaps. "The point is your uncovered dick. Are you one of those guys who pulls the condom off during? Did you even use a condom in Boston? Did you do this on purpose?" Her voice is ramping up in volume with each question until she's yelling. "WHY AM I PREGNANT, KYLE?"

Jesus. I rub a hand over my face and lean against the vanity. The hostility has gone out of her and she looks confused. She looks defeated.

"Do men do that?"

"Do what?"

"Any of what you just said?"

She bites her lip and crosses her arms over her chest. The movement seems to remind her that she's naked and she drops them, grabbing her panties off the floor.

"To you," I clarify. "Do men do that to you?"

"No, no one has ever knocked me up before."

"What about the rest of it?"

"One time this guy I was seeing tried to take the condom off without me noticing. I kneed him in the junk and broke up with him."

I nod. "It's mine? The baby?"

"Yes." She says this like I'm stupid and I wonder how much she wishes it weren't.