Page 53 of Freak
Her light, soft, exploring touch threatened to undo him. When she slipped her hand downward again, this time she felt exactly how her touch affected him. Her eyes came up, wide and gleaming. A twitch of pride tugged on a corner of her mouth.
The time for exploration was over.
Catching her hand again, Mel pulled it to his back and drew her to him, pressing their bodies together. He filled his hands with the soft fluff of her hair and cupped her head, lowering his mouth to hers, covering hers, filling it with his tongue. She responded with unfettered enthusiasm, pressing her body more tightly to his, wriggling so her breasts moved against his chest, slipping her fingers into his hair, holding him to her as tightly as he held her to him.
Her tongue grappled with his. With a soft, hungry sound, she arched her hips up against his, and the steely ridge of his cock pressed into the soft warmth of her belly. Sweet fuck, she felt good. Everywhere was soft and warm and firm and silky and ... and ... shesmelledgood. Shesoundedgood. Shetastedgood. And god, how good she looked.
Closing her up tightly in his arms, Mel eased her down the bed, then followed immediately to settle at her side. Knowing how long it had been for her, he wanted to start things slowly. He plumped a breast in his free hand and leaned forward to lightly kiss the nipple.
She gasped and whimpered, arching up into his touch. “Mel!”
Chuckling against her body, he answered, “I got you, babe. I got you.”
But she lifted his head and met his eyes. “Do you ... I don’t ... have ... anything.”
Oh. Shit, right. Shit. Did he have anything? In ordinary circumstances, he made sure he had a couple condoms in his wallet, and at the clubhouse he had a Costco-size box in his room. But these weeks with Abigail hadn’t been ordinary circumstances. He was—hopefully—about to end the longest dry spell of his adult life. It had been a minute since he’d checked his wallet, but he’d been in it often enough for other reasons to be fairly sure he was not packing today. Fuck!
Of course, pregnancy was not a problem. Abigail hadn’t had sex in a very long time, so she was certainly healthy in that regard. He was as well. So it came down to whether she’d believe him.
“I don’t think I do,” he said and watched disappointment flood her eyes. “But—maybe it’s okay. I had a vasectomy years ago. And I had a checkup a little while back, got tested then, and everything came back good.”
She processed that with a blink or two. “You had a vasectomy?”
Would that be a problem for her? They were both in their forties. He was nearly out of them, in fact. She wasn’t thinking about babies, was she? That would be problematic for multiple reasons.
Hoping not, he answered honestly. “I never had a drive to be a dad—I like kids, just ... I don’t know. It never felt like a thing I had to do. Then Roe fell, and I felt like the smart thing to do was make it so it wouldn’t be a question. Make it easier and safer for everybody, you know?”
That weird thing with Brittany Bello was a factor, too. If he’d been cut then, he wouldn’t have worried at all when he later saw her bump.
Watching Abigail’s eyes carefully, he asked, “Is it a problem?”
Relief unlocked his neck when she immediately shook her head. “No, not at all. I’m just surprised—but I shouldn’t be. Of course you’d take steps to protect the women you’re with.”
The comment struck him oddly—it reminded him of their fight, thereby confusing him a little, since she’d been mad at his protective instinct earlier but seemed admiring of it now. He didn’t like the present tense she’d used, either, with the plural:the women you’re with.
“Just one woman, Abs. Just you.”
She went still and stared up at him, her eyes moving over his face, studying him like a map. He brushed a curling lock of hair from her face to clear her view. She lifted a hand and drew one finger down his nose, to his lips. He opened his mouth and caught her fingertip gently between his teeth.
“I don’t want to talk anymore,” she whispered.
Mel brought his head to hers and gave her mouth something better to do.
