Page 5 of Doing It for Love

“Okay…you have to stop laughing,” he says.

“Can’t be helped.” I kiss his shoulder when he bumps it against my lips. “Ireallylike it.”

“I know.” He bites again, causing more laughter and goose bumps. “But when you laugh, it does things. Down there.”

“I know it doesn’t hurt,” I say, then flex my Kegel muscles. He groans.

“No, it’s just…we haven’t done this in eleven days.”

“You’re counting?” When was the last time we counted?

He ignores me, resting an elbow on the pillow, and using the heel of his hand to hold his head up. “On most occasions I purposely make you laugh because of how it feels.” His lip twitches upward. “It’s like a hug.”

I stifle a snort, and he growls to the ceiling.

“Stop laughing!”

“I can’t help it.”

“You keep laughing, and I’m gonna shoot off before I can do my move.”

“I’ve felt your move,” I tease. “You need a new one.”

His jaw drops, and his stroking fingers turn to tickle monsters up and down, down and up my ribs, until he grips my sides and pulls me on his lap. My knees sink into the duvet next to his hips, and I run my nails through his damp hair. The stars in his gray irises seem to light the entire bedroom, echoing the moon dancing across the bedsheets.

I can’t believe I get a whole lifetime of this.

“Me neither,” he says, and a much smaller laugh tumbles out of my mouth. I had no idea my thoughts escaped me.

Landon’s lips meet mine softly, then harder, then all over. My laughter, my mind, and my body drift away into just one of the many beautiful moments I get to experience with this man. He feels so good, and the last time we had sex like this feels like a lifetime ago.

I’m just getting into my rhythm when I halt mid-hump with a gasp.

“What, what, what?” Landon says underneath me, sweat and shower water covering his skin.

“We need a condom.”

He looks at me like I just spouted Greek. “Huh?”

“A condom, Landon. I stopped taking my pill a week ago.”

“Why’d you do that?”

“I didn’t want to hurt the baby…if there was one.”

“Oh.” He closes his eyes and nods. “Okay. Condom. Do we even have one?”

“Maybe…?” I’m being optimistic. I think I tossed them out during my last sex drawer cleanup.

He slowly lifts me off him, and we both groan when we leave each other. I roll off the mattress, probably not looking so sexy with my naked squat and crawl to the naughty drawer in my nightstand.

“I could just pull out,” Landon suggests as I dig around the lubricant, the sex tarot cards we’ve used maybe once, and the blindfolds we use much more than that, but not lately. There’s not a single condom or any other form of birth control in here—unless you count the picture of my parents that must’ve slipped through the cracks from the drawer above it.

“I don’t know. I think I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

“But…we don’t have a condom.”

“Maybe Theresa does.” Actually, I’m almost positive she does. I put the picture of my parents back in the right drawer and get to my feet. “I’ll be right back.”

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