His arms are wrapped around me. His tattoos seem brighter than normal against my pale skin. I run my fingers up and down his thick legs, loving the feel of his hair against my fingertips.
One hand slowly strokes my stomach while he places lazy kisses on my neck. We’ve been sitting like this since our last bout of lovemaking.
“I don’t want to go to work tomorrow. I have some sick days. Maybe I can call out and we can do this day all over again.” I hardly take any time off, and it would so be worth it. I don’t want to move from this spot. I’m nestled into his body, and I’ve never felt more cherished.
“I wish I could, but I gotta work tomorrow.” He nibbles a little at my shoulder before kissing the spot. Disappointment hits me. It’s the first time he’s actually refused me something. “But maybe the next day.”
“What do you even do? You mentioned retiring.” He hasn’t brought up what he does, but the few times he was messing with his phone, he just said it had to do with ‘work’ and changed the subject. It made me feel a little bit like he didn’t want to talk about it, and I didn’t want to push.
“I have my hands in all kinds of things. I guess you could say I’m an entrepreneur.”
“Is that why you came into the bank the other day?” He stills against me for a second before he answers.
“Yeah, for work.”
“But you’re retiring? You’re so young.” It’s clear he does okay for himself, between his car and this warehouse. This place can’t be cheap.
“Yeah. Just a few loose ends to tie up and I’m out.” He stops stroking my stomach and wraps both arms around me again, locking his hands together and pulling me a little closer. “I’ve been saving and investing. I want to focus on other things now.”
“Other things?” I hedge. I know he keeps telling me over and over again how he’s never letting me go, but I want to know where this is going. How I’m a part of his plans.
“A family,” he whispers in my ear, and his hand goes back to rubbing my stomach again.
My whole body freezes and air leaves my lungs in a gasp. Not once have we talked about protection, or even used it. Jesus. It never even crossed my mind, which is crazy and ridiculous. Or maybe subconsciously I let myself forget about it.
A little voice in the back of my head seems to agree with that. Did I think if he knocked me up I’d always have him? Wow. That sounds pathetic. Am I that girl? Am l trying to trap a man? Oh, my God. What is wrong with me? I can’t—
“I did it on purpose,” he whispers, cutting off my train of thought “I couldn’t control myself, little fox. When I had my cock in you, and I thought about you swollen with my kid, I couldn’t have stopped myself from cumming even if I tried.” He takes my earlobe between his teeth, pulling a little and making a chill run down my spine. “Not that I tried.”
He did this, too?
“We’re crazy,” I blurt out. Because we are. This relationship seems to be moving at warp speed and shows no signs of slowing.
“Went way past crazy the moment I saw you. No turning back now.” I can hear the smile in his voice.
No, it seems we’ve made sure we can’t. We’re both trying to bind ourselves to each other.
“You’ve always wanted a family? I’ve been dreaming about one for as long as I can remember,” I admit. It was just my grandma and me growing up. I loved her, and I know she did the best for us, but I want more. I want a home filled with family. It’s something I hope to have some day. To be married and have children filling the house.
“Never really had one myself. I always thought ‘one day,’ but I never put much thought into it. I think I was waiting for you, because when I saw you the idea started to come to life, and it’s all I’ve been able to see since.”
“We both kind of missed out on that growing up. We can have it together.” I turn a little to look at him. He’d told me all about growing up on the streets. That he’s always been kind of a loner, never getting too attached to anything.
At first I was worried that he could move on from me like he seems to do to most things. Even his apartment shows that in him. He doesn’t look planted. He could leave at the drop of a hat.
“Not can, will,” he confirms, before molding his lips to mine.
“I gotta take you home. Some stuff I need to take care of tonight and first thing tomorrow.”
I take deep breath, letting my shoulders drop.
“Okay.” I know I’m pouting, but I can’t seem to stop myself. He lets his arms drop from around me, and I pull myself from the bed, hating to have to leave it.
I wonder if the stuff he has to take care of is the same stuff he had to take care of in the middle of the night last night. I woke up around two in the morning in need of the bathroom and found the bed empty. After a search of the place, I knew he was gone. When I woke again this morning with his mouth between my legs, I’d forgotten about it. And by the time I did remember, I didn’t want to ask.
I didn’t know if it was out of place to ask him where he’d been or what he’d been up to, so I just let it go. But it’s been sitting in the back of my mind ever since.
I slowly get my stuff together, trying to put off leaving, but all too soon I’m all packed and we’re at the front door of my apartment.
“You want to come in for a little bit?” I bite my lip and look up at him. The look on his face is one I can’t make out.