Page 86 of Cross Check Daddies
“Just wait a minute.”
Before I can ask why, he drops to his knees in front of me. His hands rise to my thighs, and his mouth presses against my inner knee like a silent apology. I look down, stunned, my breath caught in my throat.
“I don’t want you to give up on me,” he murmurs.
I don’t have time to protest. His mouth is already on me with slow, unhurried strokes. Careful and reverent. I gasp, fingers tangling in his hair.
My body responds faster than I want it to, hips lifting into his mouth, heart thudding against my ribs. He holds my thighs apart, thumbs grazing my skin, his mouth working like he has nowhere else to be tonight.
And for a moment, I forget about everything else. The fear. The tests. The others. All of it. Just this.
As we come back to reality, he doesn’t say anything. Just kisses the inside of my thigh and stands slowly, pulling me into his chest. He kisses my jaw and pulls away, returning with a warm towel and a glass of water. He moves gently, wiping me clean, and I watch him, not knowing what to say.
Eventually, I get ready to leave.
“I’ll walk you down,” he says, slipping on his sneakers without waiting for me to protest.
We take the stairs, a few inches of space between us the whole time. When we reach my door, he turns to face me.
His hand cups my cheek, but he doesn’t kiss me again, not on the mouth. Just leans in and brushes his lips to my forehead.
“I’ll see you soon.”
I nod, swallowing hard.
Inside, the apartment is warm and smells faintly of garlic and cheese. Jackson is curled up on the couch beside Ivy, half-asleep, a slice of pizza in his lap, and Buddy snoring beneath his feet. Ivy glances up and arches a brow.
“Cutting it close. It’s almost ten.”
Jackson mumbles, “Five more minutes,” and snuggles closer to her side.
“I got it,” she says, so I head straight for the bathroom.
I flick on the light and close the door behind me. Steam curls as I twist the faucet and step out of my clothes. My hand rests on my belly for a moment as I wait for the water to warm. The doctor said it’s still early, but the baby’s the size of a raspberry now.
The image flashes through my mind again—the printout of the little black-and-white blob. The faint flicker that the tech called “a nice strong rhythm.” My nipples ache, sensitive in a way that’s new, even the water stings a little. I close my eyes, tilting my head under the stream.
I can still feel him. His mouth. His voice. The way he saidpleaselike it meant everything.
I wash slowly, gently. Let the heat soothe my muscles and my mind. By the time I towel off and slip into fresh pajamas, the house is dim, the TV turned off, Jackson already half-asleep in his bed.
I press a kiss to his forehead, brush his curls back, and tuck the covers around his shoulders. His breathing slows beneath my hand.
Out in the hallway, Ivy is curled on the couch again, texting with one hand, a glass of wine in the other. She glances up when she hears me.
“You good?”
“I think so,” I say. “I just need to breathe a little.”
I’m not sure when the dream starts. It slips in like silk against skin—sudden, warm, and too vivid to be confused for anything else.
It begins with hands. Not one pair. Three.
Cam’s are rough, familiar, fingers mapping the lines of my spine like he already knows every one. Tanner’s are greedy, always moving, always teasing. He lifts my thigh, bites my shoulder, groans my name like he’s starving. Ace is slower, more focused. His lips trail fire down my throat, while his voice in my ear makes my legs weak.
There’s no space between their touches. No shame either. Just need. Raw, pulsing, aching need.
Cam pushes inside me from behind, his body solid against mine. My mouth opens, and Tanner’s there, kissing me deep, histongue sliding against mine while his hand moves between my legs. I’m drowning in sensation.
