One Moment Please (Wait With Me #3)(61)
“Just sex and eventually a baby,” he replies, his head moving past my stomach and between my legs to the place that most definitely deserves some attention from anything other than the Womanizer Pro 40.
“I can’t believe you’re having a kid,” Max says, his expression a mixture of shock and possible mirth over his glass of whiskey before taking a fortifying sip. “You of all people. I mean…I can barely see you breaking out of your robotic shell long enough to actually have sex with a woman, let alone sex without a condom.”
“We used a condom,” I drone, checking around the bar to make sure no one is within earshot.
Max and I are downtown at Corner Bar in the middle of the day, bellied up to the counter like a couple of townies. I’ve been working nights for two weeks straight and eleven a.m. on my first day off was the only time Max had available to meet. And telling the only friend I have left that I’m about to become a father seemed like news that was best told in person. Over whiskey. In the morning.
“So, the condom broke?” he asks, still shaking his head as he processes the atomic bomb of information I just dropped on him.
“It was expired,” I reply with a shrug.
“Fuck.” Max shoves a hand through his blond hair. “And she’s living with you now?”
“Yep.”
“And you guys are sleeping together?”
“Yes, we’re sleeping together,” I reply, my mind instantly flashing back to several occasions Lynsey and I have had sex in the past two weeks.
Fuck, it’s been good.
More than good.
Which is impressive because with me working nights, we’ve only had small windows of time together in the mornings when we actually get to see each other.
But we’ve been making very good use of that time. So good that we don’t even exchange pleasantries before she launches herself at me the second I walk in the door. We deserve some sort of medal to be honest, because in the course of two weeks, we’ve fucked in the kitchen, the living room, the laundry room, and even on the dining room table.
And then there was the episode the other morning when I came home to find her in my shower…touching herself. I was not pleased.
It was just after seven a.m. when I arrived home after a particularly grueling night in the ER.
Most of the time after a difficult shift, I end up crashing in one of the on-call rooms, too mentally drained to drive home. But I had to go home. I craved it. I wanted to be in my own house, in my own bed, or sitting on Lynsey’s shitty sofa eating her leftovers and tripping over her stupid shoes. Plus, the sex I’ve been coming home to makes that drive a lot more appealing.
After walking inside the house, I looked around, surprised Lynsey wasn’t making coffee in her underwear like usual. My brows pinched as I made my way down the hallway, the sounds of the shower running in my master bath growing louder. Because of our shift differences, Lynsey and I haven’t spent the night in the same room since the family dinner.
Why did she decide to use my shower to get ready for work instead of her own?
As I drew nearer, a faint buzzing was audible over the running water. My jaw clenched as I moved through my bedroom and rounded the corner to glance into the bathroom.
Through the foggy glass, seated on the bench in my shower, was Lynsey with her eyes closed and her legs spread wide as she moaned against the motions of the vibrator going to town on her clit.
I paused, taking in the sight for several minutes as her labored breathing echoed off the tile walls. My cock thickened inside my scrubs.
I was equal parts irritated and turned the fuck on.
“What do you think you’re doing, Jones?” I asked, my voice firm as I made my way into the bathroom, standing only a few feet from the shower door.
Her eyes popped open, and she immediately pulled the vibrator from between her thighs.
“You’re late,” she croaked, her voice hoarse with desire.
I dropped my chin and pinned her with a glower. “You’re busy.”
She pulled her lip into her mouth and closed her legs. “I was going to surprise you in here when you got home and let you use this on me.” She held the vibrator up to me as if it’s a peace-offering. Her face guilty as she added, “But you took too long and…well…”
“You decided to start without me,” I finished her thought, my eyes narrowing on her. “I thought we discussed exclusivity a couple of days ago.”
I pulled my shirt off over my head and dropped it to the floor.
“We did,” she replied, her eyes caressing my chest, abs, and groin as I stroked myself over my scrubs. She cleared her throat and added, “I told you, after the Tinder Battle of 2020, I wouldn’t dream of us being nonexclusive while we’re sleeping together.”
I tilted my head and stared at her through the steam dripping down the glass while dropping my pants and kicking them off to the side. She stood, moving to press her hand to the glass as she gaped open-mouthed at my cock.
“Exclusivity means all your orgasms are mine, Jones,” I ground out, my voice deep and authoritative.
She licked her lips and looked up at me, her eyes hooded with desire. “I didn’t know that included battery-operated devices.”
“It even includes your hand,” I stated firmly, pulling the door open and stepping into the shower. “And your fucking dreams.”