Page 55 of The Comeback

I’m going to die. Sweat pours down my forehead, slipping into my eyes. I slam them closed and focus on my breathing.

“Right. Fucking. There.” She gasps and then growls deep in her throat as her pussy clamps down on my cock, almost refusing to let me budge.

“Fuck,” I grunt and spasm deep inside her as spurts of semen shoot out of my cock. Thank fuck. My entire body sags in relief as our panting takes over the space.

What’s she doing to me? This is insane. I’ve never been this consumed with someone. Willing to give up every piece of my soul to make her happy. I slip out of her and turn her around. Her lips are plump and swollen from biting them as we fucked like two wild animals in heat.

“Wow.” I shake my head. “That was hot.” And scary as fuck. I would sacrifice anything for her. I’d slay dragons and search for a pot of gold. I’d sell my soul to the devil.

She cups my face. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” But at what cost? What happens if I must walk away? How can I survive?

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The Next Day

Charlotte

After the doorbell jingles above the studio door, I close my textbook and step out of my office. A woman a few years older than me stands inside the door with a little girl who’s about five. They’re two peas in a pod. Except the mother has pink hair and the little girl has ringlets of blonde hair.

“Hello.” I step forward with an outstretched hand. “I’m Charlotte Tillman, the owner. How can I help you?”

The woman takes my hand. Her handshake is quick and firm. “I’m Rissa Thompson, and this is my daughter, Lila.”

“Hi.” The little girl beams and spins in a circle. “I love to spin.”

“I see that.” I laugh at her adorable antics.

Lila ignores me as she continues to spin. The girl has more energy than a normal five-year-old.

“Lila loves to dance.” Rissa braces her hands on her hips, and the smallest of baby bumps pooches out. Oh, she’s having another baby. My heart swoons as baby fever grasps me in a headlock and refuses to let go.

Stop. It’s too soon. You can’t go around begging Weston to knock you up. You’ve only been dating a few weeks.

But I want a baby.

I steel my back and ignore the incessant arguing in my brain. It’s bad enough I’m acting like a sex-starved harlot. If I start yelling at him to put a baby in me, he’ll run away and never come back. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask how far along she is, but I’m not stupid. She could have had an awesome taco for lunch.

“Are you taking new students?”

Oh, shit. Last night at Gunner’s house, we forgot to use a condom. My breath catches in my lungs. What if…. Never mind. Don’t think about it. It’s not like one time while standing up is going to lead to a pregnancy.

Focus. New students. “As a matter of fact, I am. I’m never closed. We do have three recitals a year, and if a new student starts when we’re in the throes of rehearsal practice, they usually opt-out, but everyone is welcome to join in and learn.”

“Good,” she sighs as the little girl runs across the floor, jumps in the air, and falls to the ground. We’ll have to work on the landing.

“I’m pregnant with my third, and I need something to take some of this energy away. I’m exhausted.’”

“How far along are you?” Yay! I waited, and she brought it up.

“I’m six months.”

“Congratulations.” I eye her in admiration. Six months. With her third child? Good for her.

“Thank you.” She runs a hand through her hair. “Do you have any children?”

“No.” Heat floods my face. “I’m seeing someone, but we aren’t to that point yet. It’s still new.”

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