So. Long.: Bad Boy Next Door (21 page)

Adam goes further down, laving attention on my navel, before
he moves to the crest of my pubic bone. My abs tighten, waiting. Finally, his
tongue flicks its way to my clit. Each little swipe across that sensitive spot
clenches my core tight, wetting my entrance.

When he moves over me, he nibbles at my lips, teasing as his
cock finds my slit, pushing inside as I taste my own cream on his tongue.

The unmistakable clatter of flatware pinging off the tile
floor penetrates our pleasure. I pause, but Adam pulls away for only a moment.
“Ignore it. We’ll fix it later.”

Then he kisses me harder. His spicy scent envelops me as he
thrusts deeply, and I rise to meet him. My breaths jerk each time he rams his
cock deep, grazing that part of me that tightens the coil, building the
pressure within.

He whispers. “I’m here.”

As his speed increases, I brace myself with my hand on the
headboard. He pounds against me, and I lift my legs, allowing him to shove even
further inside. He slides his hand up the back of my thigh to my ankle, pushing
it to rest on the front of his shoulder. He grinds against me. My clit, my
slit—all of me—pulses with every roll of his hips.

“Stop running. I’m not going anywhere.” He kisses my neck,
and I quiver with the idea that he might really stay.

Maybe he will. Maybe they don’t all leave.

Adam’s gaze captures mine, and he smiles as he drives into
me. The smacking of wetness between us builds the faster he moves. He licks his
bottom lip, and I rise to take it between my teeth, tugging him closer. His
tongue tangles with mine as our bodies entwine.

He sinks in, promises falling from his lips straight to my
heart. “Trust me.”

He empties my mind of all other experiences and fills me
with only thoughts of him and me. Our time together is all that matters. It’s
as if there wasn’t anyone before, just him. Just me. Just us.

Just
this
.

His strokes are long and hard, and each one pushes me closer
to the edge of that cliff I want so badly to dive from.

“Let go, Beautiful. Come for me.” His breath is hot at my
ear.

I throw my arms wide and close my eyes, allowing every
brush, every thrust, every touch to soak into my being, to gather together
until they push me higher and higher. Adam bangs against my pussy, the friction
a sweet torture to be endured until it frees me.

Then, as my mind fractures with the pleasure of it all, the
swell of pressure is too much, and the world,
my
world, explodes around
me, in me, through me. My body convulses, and my pussy seizes around Adam’s as
I cry his name.

He jams his cock deeper and arches his spine, throwing his
head back.

“Fuck. Yes!” He meets my every pulse with his own orgasm.
His seed jets inside me, hot and filling. And reminding me of the thing I
forgot.

I go still, and Adam collapses atop me, holding his weight
on his forearms on either side of my shoulders.

My stomach sinks.

Shit. I still have to tell him.

He rolls to his side and pulls me against him, pushing my
hair aside and kissing my temple. I drag in a deep breath and give myself these
precious moments to memorize the feel of his arms around me. In case he doesn’t
handle the news well and really does take off.

The sound of breaking glass crashes in on our afterglow.

I sit up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed.

Adam grabs at my hand. “Leave it.”

But I can’t. “Chloe might cut herself on whatever she
broke.”

He drags himself from the bed and follows me.

Chloe sits on the plate I abandoned earlier. Adam’s plate is
on the floor—in pieces, the remnants of his steak and potato smeared across the
tile.

“Par for the course.” I let out a sigh and shoo her off the
table. “Go, you terrorist. All you do is tear shit up and make a nuisance of
yourself.”

She scampers off, stopping at the entry to the kitchen to
turn and give me an extra-loud meow, as though to tell me she doesn’t much care
for my assessment of her character.

“Well, too bad. Don’t be a rotten mess, and I won’t call you
a terrorist.”

Adam’s shoulders shake as he laughs. “You sound like me when
I’m talking to Spike. What we put up with from our critters.”

He picks up the broken dish while I get the food cleared and
put away.

Suddenly, Adam stops and grins at me. “You know, this should
be a thing—cleaning naked. All cleaning should be done sans clothing from now
on. I declare this to now be law.”

I wiggle my hips as I scrub and wipe the table. “That would
make it more fun.”

Adam grabs for me, flopping into the chair, dragging me onto
his lap, his cock erect and pressing hard against my ass cheek. He kisses the
back of my neck, tickling me so that I wriggle around. Then he suddenly stops.

I open my eyes. His brows knit.

I ask, “What?”

He nods to Chloe, who’s strutting into the kitchen, a white
stick hanging from her mouth.

My jaw drops, right along with my stomach. Adam moves me off
his lap and stands.

Fuck. “Damned thief cat!”

I lunge for the little black and white, living, breathing
disaster-maker.

Chloe hunkers down, eyeing me and growling as though to say,
“Take my prize and I will end your ass, human.”

Adam dodges around me and grabs the stick from her mouth.

My shoulders hunch, and I bite my lip, covering my eyes.

Maybe he won’t know what it is. Maybe I can turn back the
clock to earlier and tell him about the baby before he finds out like this.

Fucking cat.

Adam clears his throat, but I don’t look up. I can’t.

He tries again, louder.

Still, I just bite my lip harder.

Please, God. Let him understand. Let him not freak the fuck
out. Let him—just let this go well.

“Is this what I think it is?”

Frame this in the most
positiv
e light possible. That
should do it…right?

My heart thuds as I peek through my fingers.

His gaze is trained on the stick, and I can almost hear the
wheels turning in his mind.

Positive test. Positive spin.

I drag in a great breath, steeling myself for whatever will
happen next. “So, you know how you told me your doctors said you might be
shooting blanks?”

His eyes dart to meet mine, his expression tightening. “Yes.”

“Surprise!” I smile a big, cheesy smile.

Keep it positive. Nothing negative going on here.

I pat my tummy. “Fully loaded.”

A myriad of expressions skips across his features.
Uncertainty. Confusion. Disbelief.

Looks like he’s settling on
shock
for the moment.

I wait.

Let him take it in.

Finally, he seems to get his tongue untied. “But there was
only that one time.”

“Only takes once.”

Adam’s phone vibrates on the table, beeping at the same
time. He tosses it a glance but doesn’t move to get it.

He carefully lays the pregnancy test on the edge of the
counter, and then props his hands at his hips.

We stand naked in my kitchen. The mastodon is now loose and
tearing its way through my world. And I need a drink—but can’t have one—at
least for another nine months or so.

Damn it.

“I’m going to grab a robe.” I head toward my bathroom.

In the lavatory, I wash my face and stare at my reflection.

I berate myself. “Dumbass. You should’ve told him first thing.
Just spit it out. Then it would’ve been done.”

When I step into my bedroom, Adam’s clothes are gone.

I check the rest of the house.

Adam
is gone.

I tuck Maddie in, kissing her on her forehead.

She looks up at me, her little pink lip poking out. “When
will Mommy come home? She’s not gone forever like Daddy, is she?”

I rub my neck to help me swallow the brick that lodges in my
throat. “She’ll be home soon, Maddiekins. She had to go with Ryan. But she’s
not gone forever.”

“Thank you for taking me to my dance.”

I pull at the knot on my tie, loosening it to breathe better.
“You’re welcome. I hope you’ll ask me again.”

Her little lashes shadow her pale cheeks as she nods. “I
will.”

Her yawn is contagious. I stretch and yawn as I flip her lamp
off and pull the door closed, leaving a crack so the light can seep in, in case
she wakes in the night.

I grab the strewn toys from the floor and pile them in the
laundry basket I’ve commandeered for this purpose. I’ll try to figure out where
they all belong tomorrow. The dishes are done, though not dried and put away. That
can also happen tomorrow.

Right now, all I want is to sit.

I fall onto Jen’s couch. Something jabs me in the ribs. I
pull the G.I. Joe action figure from between the cushions and toss it across
the room toward the basket. It goes wide.

Oh well. Maybe I’ll hit it next time.

I adjust the pillows I’ve been sleeping on behind my head
and lie back, letting the tension flow from my sore back. I swear, if I’ve
picked Maddie up once in the last few days, I’ve done it a hundred times—sucker
that I am.

Exhaustion doesn’t even describe the level of tiredness I
feel at this moment. It’s not as bad as when Carter and I were overseas, but
not far from it.

Who knew taking care of two kids could be so much work? And
that doesn’t even include the house shit that has to be done every stinking
day.

I was right all along. Kids are cute, but a total pain in
the ass.

I was thinking that at five and eight, Maddie and Tucker
would be pretty self-sufficient. Yeah, not so much.

It’s a good thing I love those two rugrats, otherwise I’d be
looking for a nanny to care for them while Jen’s off with Ryan at the Children’s
Hospital.

My gut clenches.

Hospital. Ryan.

Those two words should never be used in the same sentence.

Luckily, when Jen called earlier, she said the doc told her
Ryan’s going to heal up fine. The second surgery on his leg seems to have done
the trick.

Eleven-year-olds don’t always use the best judgment. This
one especially.

But, I’d bet he won’t go jumping off the roof again anytime
soon. He completely missed the trampoline. Good thing he was wearing his
football helmet, no telling what kind of damage his hard head would’ve done to
the backyard.

That kid—if he doesn’t learn his boundaries…shit, who am I
kidding? His dad never knew his, and I sure as fuck never knew mine. I was
probably lucky to make it to adulthood.

For the first time since yesterday, I pick up my phone and scroll
through my texts.

The three from Kelsey still sit there, unanswered. The last
one is from four days ago. She only sent one each day for three days. Then they
stopped.

She’s pissed.

Her last text says it all.

-Don’t worry. I won’t come after you for anything. I’ll
handle this on my own.-

I’m an ass, and it might be wrong to wait until I can see
her face to face. But talking through email, texts, or even on the phone about
something so huge, doesn’t seem right.

Plus, with everything going on here, I haven’t had the time
or energy to worry about a baby…a baby I never thought I’d father. A baby with
a woman who didn’t even want to be with me two days before we last saw each
other, because we were
heading in
different directions
.

We might’ve been. But what about now?

What’s she going to do about the baby?

What do I
want
her to do?

Or could she have
already
done something?

Fuck. Maybe she did. Shit.

I type out a reply to her last text.

-Don’t do anything yet. I should be home in a couple of
days. Let’s talk.-

I get no answer from her. Not that I deserve one.

I don’t.

I down my whiskey and push the empty glass toward the
barkeep. “Another.”

“You driving this guy?” He raises an eyebrow at Romans.

Romans holds his empty out for a refill. “Fuck no. We have
to do our part to keep the cabbies in business, right, Hardick?”

“Cabbies. Business. Abso-fucking-lutely.” My tongue is thick
and possibly hairy.

Wait—when did my tongue grow hair?

Glasses filled, we salute one another.

I lift mine a bit higher. “To Carter Shulls, and
all
of
our fallen brothers.”

Romans nods. “Hear, hear.”

We slam our drinks back.

“Romans, you’re a helluva friend. Anyone ever tell you
that?”

His eyes go wide, and he points to himself. “Me?”

I slap him on his shoulder. “Yes,
you
, motherfucker.
You flew all the way down here to drink with me.”

He shakes his head. “Naw. I didn’t come down here to drink
with you. I
am
drinking with you, but that’s not why I came.”