Page 53 of Break

I will never forget that night, and not just because I’m going to have his babies in a few months, but because it was so damn magical, that I think it’s going to be imprinted in my brain for the decades to come. Best sex of my life.

Shit. Now I can’t get it out of my head.

I groan and James turns over to narrow his eyes at me.

“What’s wrong? Are the babies okay? You’re breathing strangely. Do you need to sit up?”

I clear my throat and feel my face heating up. I lick my lips and turn to stare at the wall. “Nothing.” I croak and pull another pillow down to shove in between my legs. I need the support formy hips. Right. More like pressure on my poor clit to make it stop throbbing.

He hums and drags me closer, conforming me against his naked torso. “You can tell me anything, M. Does your back hurt? Your hips? I can give you a massage?”

I blink up at him and chew on my lip, shaking my head. “They always hurt.”

He smirks at me as he helps move pillows under my belly and hips, arranging me so that he can massage most of my back while on the bed. It’s not like I can lay on my stomach.

“Just relax.” I hear him rooting through my nightstand and I immediately tense up. I hear his deep chuckle before I hear the plastic lid of my lube open up. “I figured this would be better than lotion, I was taking a guess. That’s some nice shit you got in there.”

I clear my throat. “A guess about what?”

He hums and I moan out loud when he presses his fingers into my lower back under my t-shirt. “That you would have some fun shit in your room.”

I stay silent, well, mostly silent, as he digs deeper and harder into the knots and sore tissue and muscles along my spine, hips, and lower back. This feels like fucking heaven.

He moves his fingers around my waist, digging into my pelvis and hips, so fucking close to where I’m needy, throbbing. What the hell is happening right now? Am I dreaming?

I bite down on my lip as he rolls his fingers, they’re slick and wet from the lube and I’m panting for breath. “Are you doing okay?”

I sigh and nod, trying to calm my breathing. “Yep.”

He laughs and removes his hands from my body, I hear him adding more lube onto his fingers. I’m about to fucking orgasm without him even touching me intimately. “Mhm,” he murmurs and he starts all over again, going slower and deeper. He massages under my belly, closer to my pelvis and I hold my breath, not wanting to make a damn sound to let him know how I’m feeling. “Your skin is so smooth, so warm.”

I roll my eyes under my eyelids tensing when he moves the tips of his fingers under my shorts, reaching the top of my mound.

He blows out a slow breath and I hold mine. I can feel my heart beating in my throat. Is this really happening?

“I’ve read that pregnant women are… sensitive. Horny.”

I laugh breathlessly and nod. “Yeah… all the time. I imagine this is how a sixteen-year-old boy feels. There’s always so much pressure…”

He grunts and leans over me, placing his face in front of mine, searching my eyes. Blue to brown. “I… I have no idea how to ask this… Can we help each other out?”

I furrow my brows and stare into his darkening eyes, searching his, in turn, for answers. He seems desperate, afraid of my answer.

“Look… we’re best friends. More than that. I’m horny, you’re horny… Soon you’re going to have two screaming babies in the house and probably curse all men out of your life forever. I don’t think I’ll ever date again. Feeling your skin against mine, listening to your breathy moans, the sounds you’re making. Knowing how hot and bothered, and hopefully wet you are. It’sgiving me flashbacks of the wet dreams I used to have about you as a teenager and it’s driving me fucking crazy.”

I pant and close my eyes. Jesus, just his words have me throbbing.

“I know it’s probably out of left field, or awkward… but…”

“Yes.” Hell, I don’t even need to think about it. It’s not like we haven’t done it before, whether he remembers or not.

Is this a mistake? Most likely. I should probably change my middle name to Mistake.

But… gosh, I’ve been craving someone else’s touch for months. Especially his.

My toys haven’t been doing their job very well and my hormones are insane, plus he was the one to ask.

He grunts and rolls away, I hear fabric hitting the floor before he helps guide me onto my back, removing all of my clothes, so damn slowly. My robe flies behind his shoulders. My shirt is ripped over my head.

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