Page 15 of Two Pink Lines for Christmas

I clear my throat and hope it comes out strong. “Nothing. I didn’t say anything.”

His brown eyes are boring into mine and I look away. I’ve never been a great liar. I’m an okay actress when I need to be. I can play the part people want me to, but that isn’t exactly lying. It’s living up to expectations.

Even then, Corbin has always been able to see right through me. It used to annoy me to no end, but it came in handy when we went out together and some guy was hitting on me, and I wasn’t interested. No matter who he was chatting up, he kept an eye on me and would swoop in to save me.

“Justice,” there’s a warning in his voice, an edge of steel and rage, “I heard you. You said that maybe you should have gone to a sperm bank.” He swallows hard and glances away, hurt washing over his features. “Do you regret asking me to be the father of your child? Our child?”

I stiffen. It’s not the first time he’s referred to it as our child. I’m about to lay into him when I see a longing in his eyes which takes my breath and my words away.

“No, I don’t regret it,” I whisper the words. “I’m just…,” my words trail off because I’m not even sure what to say.

“You’re afraid?”

I nod and look down, feeling defeated, feeling scared, feeling unsure. It’s a lot. There’s also worry mixed in because next week we’ll be at my family’s house to celebrate Christmas. Corbin has been coming to my family’s place for Christmas almost as long as we’ve been friends. It’s a tradition and I know it’s going to be awkward.

I don’t want to tell anyone about trying to get pregnant until it’s happened. It makes me feel like a coward, but it’s true.

Corbin grips my chin and tilts my head back. There’s more than adoration in his eyes, but that is there as well. My breath hitches right before his lips descend on mine. His kiss is sweet and sipping.

I cling to him and before I know what is happening, I’m straddling his lap and my fingers are in his hair. “Corbin,” I murmur against his lips.

“I know, babe.” He pulls back and searches my face. “I know you’re afraid. Neither one of us have been great at commitment before and we’re doing a lot of couple things.”

“Yes,” I gasp because he’s right on target with where my fears are coming from.

“I like it,” he admits quietly and my belly flips with the vulnerability in his voice. “Do you like it too?”

“I do, I think it’s why it scares me so much.”

He nods solemnly, his voice serious, “I think we should see where it goes. You’re going to be the mother of my child. I am determined to give you everything you want, Justice, and right now that’s a baby.”

When he smirks at me and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, it feels like some of the weight on my shoulders lifts, some of the worry goes along with it, even some of the fear. Corbin has always had the ability to make me feel better about things.

Can I do this? Can I see where this goes? What would it mean if it doesn’t work out and I’m pregnant by then?

He cups my face in his hands and holds me steady. He grounds me and it feels like I can breathe again.

“Don’t answer now,” there’s a command there even though his voice is soft.

When he reaches down and grips my pajama top, I lift my arms for him on instinct. I’m not wearing a bra and when he tosses my shirt to the side, his eyes go to my breasts and darken. His movements are slow, as if giving me time to tell him to stop before he circles my nipple with the tip of his tongue.

I arch my back and moan, “Corbin, please.”

“Fucking love my name on your lips when you moan, babe,” he rasps. Corbin flips me onto my back on the couch and sits back just long enough to slip my leggings down my legs. “Fuck,” he mutters when he sees I’m not wearing panties.

Why would I when it’s been a fuckfest around here? Easy access is a thing and I’m a fast learner.

My hands slide under Corbin’s t-shirt and slide up his chest. When my fingers trip over the grooves of his abs, he shudders above me, his brown eyes filled with desire. I tug and work his shirt off, but it’s not an easy feat considering he’s taller than me and hovering above me, but I manage.

He slips his own pajama pants off and I dismiss the pang of fear over more and more of his clothes showing up at my place. He’s been here so damn much, and it feels natural. Is it possible I was already seeing where this went without even realizing it?

“No more thinking, babe,” he leans over me and kisses up the column of my throat. “Just enjoy.”

I spread my legs wide, hooking one over the back of the couch to give him more access. I love it when he’s able to push himself as deep inside me as he can. He has the perfect girth and length; I swear his dick was made to be inside of me.

His finger sweeps along my slit before toying with my clit. “Always so wet for me, Justice.”

“Yes,” I groan as my eyes roll back in my head.

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