The Plan (Off-Limits Romance, #4)(42)

“Please what, Marley?”

“I—I need to come.” I hear the edge in her voice—it almost sounds like panic—and it makes my cock throb.

“Do you now? You want something like this?” As I ask her that question, I push deeper still into her channel, making Marley squeak and falter forward.

“What about this?” I ask, pushing just my fingertip inside her.

I’m rewarded with a groan that’s shuddered.

“Or maybe this?” With a gentle push, she’s taken all of my finger, and that’s when the moaning, groaning, screaming show starts. Marley with a finger in her ass is like an animal. She can’t seem to get enough of being filled…the way she pushes back on me—“oh fuck”—she’s almost riding me. She’s fucking my cock and my finger, reaching back to try to grab at me, her fingers brushing my hip. It feels good as fuck to be so…wanted.

So I give it to her. Thrust, and out, and deeper—she gasps—out, and fuck…I need it deeper…till with every thrust, we’re one. My finger strokes inside her, and that’s it. I feel her clench around me, tight and hot, and pleasure explodes out of me—and into her.

When she’s come to, lying on her belly, with her legs spread and her hair a mess, she drags her gaze over her shoulder and smiles tiredly.

“God, that was some crazy baby-making.”

I chuckle, and have to leave her room for safety’s sake—so I don’t stretch out right beside her.

I spoon dumplings into one of her bowls and call from her bedroom doorway, “I’m gonna get moving.”

I walk downstairs on weak legs, and when I finish the soup, I get online and order apple cider, overnighted. Then, impulsively, a bunch of whipped cream. At the last minute, I change the address from hers to mine.

I’ll make it for her and carry it up.



*

Marley





Holy fucking hell, he’s good in bed. Did I say good? I meant amazing. I wake grinning in my quiet bedroom, feeling like a girl with a delicious secret. I soar through my run, thrilled with the knowledge that I could be getting pregnant right now. Sperm, meet egg, and do your thing!

As I shower and dress for work, I let my mind sift through the details of last night…and I feel good about them. Even though he left sort of abruptly, I feel comfortable, secure, and in control. Maybe this is reckless-stupid, but I don’t feel stupid. I feel strong and happy.

I glance at the house’s front door as I leave for work, and tell myself my friend lives there. We’re friends now, aren’t we? Sort of? It feels strange, but not untrue. We’re temporary fuck buddies with a shared mission. I can treat him like a friend.

Just a friend, a small voice whispers.

Then I get to work, and my first patient is a baby girl. I’m stunned at how good I feel, just knowing that I have some hope now. That I’ll have a baby of my own again sometime. And Gabe will be the father! I laugh all day. Maybe it is a little crazy.

After work, I meet Kat at mom’s house, where Kat gives mom a bit of humming bird stained glass she found restoring an old house down by the lake. Humming birds are mom’s thing, supposedly because they’re attracted to the sweet things in life. I guess its appeal is mostly aspirational?

Mom seems better, and we hang out, talking about Thanksgiving for a few minutes before Kat and I step back into the nippy air, and she gives me a bugged-out look.

“You look like an alien when you do that.”

She grins. “Is it a patient’s daddy? Please say yes!”

“A what?” I play dumb, but Kat’s all over this.

“Girl, if I can’t spot your just-fucked face, I’m not your best friend.”

I shrug. “Wellll…”

She pretend-slaps my cheek. “You little lying ho. I can’t believe you’re holding out on me.”

“I’m not holding out, there’s nothing to hold!” I cross my arms, going for indignant.

“You’re getting the liar dimple! By your nose!”

“It’s not a dimple, it’s a crease, bitchface. I get it every time I smirk.”

“No, every time you lie.”

“Kat! C’mon.” I’m grinning though, gosh dammit.

She squeals. “You are so, so guilty, sister!”

“No I’m not.” But—ahhh, dammit—I’m fucking found out.

She’s wearing her victory face. “You so are.”

“Fuck you.”

“Me too? Now you’re feeling really frisky.”

“Fuck off. How’s that?”

She laughs as she pulls her car door open. “I want details later.”

I flip her off and duck into my own car. I race home like Gabe’s there waiting for me with a bow over his dick. Which is why I’m stunned to find him sitting on my steps holding a mug of— “Is that whipped cream?”

He winks, standing as he holds it out to me.

“Oh God, it’s cider! I can smell it.”

I throw an arm around him, and for just a second, I can feel him tense. As I pull away, I see his canned smile. “Just doing my job here.”

“Thank you.” I feel stupid, but I try hard not to show it. I take a long, delicious sip. “This stuff is heaven. Where’d you get it?”