Page 34 of What if It's Us

Please keep touching me.

In fact, let’s forget about this baby thing and just fuck.

I don’t mind being one of the notches in your bedpost.

“Alright. Here goes nothing. Please tell me to stop if I hurt you.”

“You’re doing great. I’m good. Just do it.”

“Alright boys and girls,” he says, murmuring to the semen-filled syringe, “you know what to do. Swim like hell.” Separating me once again with two fingers, he slowly inserts the syringe, pushing it inside me, and then injects his sperm. “Alright, it’s done. I’m going to hold for thirty seconds.” He lifts his other hand to the inside of my thigh, smoothing his fingers over my skin, his eyes focusing on mine. “You still with me?”

“Mhmm. Yeah. I’m good.”

“You’re doing great, Marlee. I’ve been giving my swimmers a pep talk for days so I promise they’ll swim as fast as they can.”

His comment brings a giggle out of me, immediately releasing some of the tension in my body I wasn’t aware I was holding onto.

“Whoa. Your body just physically relaxed,” Ledger says, wide eyed. “Did you feel that?”

“A little, yeah.” I give him a partial smile. “Sorry, I guess I’m a little more tightly wound than I thought.”

“It’s good. Your relaxation is key to allowing my swimmers to do their job in a timely manner.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s a little easier said than done, I’m afraid.”

“It doesn’t have to be.” His hazel eyes penetrate mine. “Do you trust me, Marlee?”

“What?”

He slowly pulls the syringe from inside me and lays it on the bed next to his knee. “Do you trust me?”

“I don’t know what you mean. Why are you asking me that?”

“It’s a simple question,” he says with a smirk. “Do you trust me or not?”

“My legs are literally spread open in front of you, giving you a view not many men get to see, and now you’re asking if I trust you?”

“Fair point.” He chuckles. “For what it’s worth it’s a spectacular view.”

Is he really complimenting my lady bits?

Are we seriously having this conversation?

God, my cheeks are flaming.

He gestures to the gift bag he gave me when he got here. “Hand me that bag, would you?”

“Wha-why?” The moment I ask the question, I squeeze my legs together forgetting they’re resting on Ledger’s shoulders and therefore trapping his head between my knees. “Oh, God. Shit. Sorry.”

He smiles and softly chuckles, his strong hands smoothing down my thighs as my legs relax so he’s no longer in a chokehold.

“Because we’re going to get you to relax so we can give your body the best chance at creating life.”

“Wait. What? Are you serious?” I squeal while simultaneously reaching for the gift bag and tossing it at him.

Why am I doing this?

Why am I not immediately saying no fucking way?

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