Addicted After All(77)

“She’ll do fine,” Lo says with more assurance. “She may be an ice queen, but she drops her whole schedule if you need her, Lil, even when you don’t ask her to. That’s love, you know?”

Selflessness. Something that Lo and I are trying to grow into. “You just complimented my sister,” I point out.

His fingers slide up my neck, tangling in my short hair. “I know, it feels so wrong.” He strokes the washed strands, not greasy.

Yesterday, my hair reached my armpits. I wasn’t a fan. So I grabbed a pair of kitchen scissors and whacked it back to its usual length, resting against my shoulders. Magazines have already gone crazy over my new “botched” haircut. I don’t know what they’re talking about. I think it looks better.

I stare up at Lo while he towers above me. My eyes flit to his lips. Kiss me. The place between my legs pulses for a hardness that he possesses. His hand massages my head in a sensual way. A breathy noise escapes my mouth, and I ache to stand up and press my pelvis against him. But I know my belly will hit his body before my lower half does.

I don’t want to have sex in our kid’s nursery, but I do want to have sex with Loren Hale.

I realize I’m gripping his legs, forcing him right here, beside me. He tugs my hair a little, and another sound breaches. I slowly stand, my heart speeding up a hill. I watch his eyes trail my body with a heady gaze. His arousal only heats all the needy places inside me.

We had sex about two hours ago, before we began painting.

“I’m insatiable,” I say the words that I’ve always known.

“You’re perfect,” he breathes, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. “And after we finish this wall, I’ll finish inside you.”

Oh my God. I clench my thighs together. “You know I only have fourteen more weeks left…” My shoulders curve forward in regret for bringing up my due date like the sex-pocalypse. But it does feel like that. With the birth, I can’t do it for six weeks.

“Are you nervous about abstaining?” he asks me seriously.

“A little,” I admit. I’ve just been so monstrous about sex lately. I can’t imagine not having it for twenty-four hours. Six weeks seems like forever. “But Poppy said I’m not going to want sex, so I’ve been less scared.” She said that passing a baby through my vagina will make me not-so-horny, but I do worry that I’ll be an exception to this. “I’m sure I’ll be so stressed out about Maximoff that I won’t care about sex.” I frown. That seems false though.

The more stress I have, the more sex I crave. I f*ck to “placate” my worries, putting me in a subdued, content state.

I don’t meet Lo’s eyes. I know they’re filled with overbearing concern. I just focus on his abs and outline the small ridges with my fingers.

His hands drop to my hips, holding tight. I ache to be closer, but I settle with splaying my palms on his bare chest. “If anything,” he tells me. “I’m going to be the horny one. And you’ll have to deny me over and over for six goddamn weeks.”

I smile weakly. “Payback?”

He nods. “Oh yeah. For every no I ever had to tell your pretty little face.” He pinches my cheeks, and I slap his hand away.

“Your pretty little face is going to be hearing lots of no’s then.”

“I’m counting on it.” He leans in, closing the gap between us. His lips touch mine, kissing me softly and then deeply, pulling me awake. He cups the back of my head as I taste his minty breath.

I only break apart when my phone buzzes on the floorboards. Lo returns to the wall, dipping his roller in paint, while I check my text, plopping back on the ground.

The expresso machine broke. The force is not with us today. Want me to buy a new one or have someone come fix it? – Maya

I make an executive decision. Have someone look at it first. I press send. I’ve found out that one of our morning-shift employees at Superheroes & Scones is a little aloof, like me, so it may just be operator error.

I notice that I’ve missed other texts, some I’ve purposefully kept unopened all week. But I click into them now.

Is there anything I can do to change this? – Ryke

This f*cking sucks. – Ryke.

I’ve taken the immature silent treatment route this past week, but I haven’t grown the courage to tell him that I’ve been aroused by his presence and that I feel gross by it.

While the same things happened with Connor, it only occurred twice and it stopped there. Every time I see Ryke, I just feel weird.