Jake
Her fingers slip over each other and she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, gaze shifting from her lap to me and back again. “Are you going to stay here tonight or go home?”
“Do you want me to stay?” I tried to keep my expectations low this weekend. I want to respect Hanna's boundaries and try to stay within the lines of friendship that she’s determined to maintain. But it sort of feels like all of that has gone out the window considering I knocked her up.
Her bottom lip slips through her teeth again. “Is it bad if I say yes?”
“Why would it be bad?”
“I don’t know. Mixed messages and all of that.” She purses her lips and they pull to the side, as if what she wants to say next is hard to admit. “I could just use the support, I think.”
“I can stay, then.”
While she gets ready for bed, I go in search of a toothbrush in one of the spare bathrooms. It’s after one in the morning. Hanna must be exhausted.
The door to her bedroom is open a few inches. I pop my head in, planning to say goodnight and tell her I’m just down the hall. Except Hanna is propped up against the pillows on the right side of the bed. And the blankets on the other side have been turned down. She runs her hand over the empty space. Her eyes are wide and guileless.
“You want me to stay in here with you?” I’m back to asking stupid questions.
“You don’t have to, I just thought . . .” She fidgets with the edge of the comforter as if she’s expecting rejection.. “I don’t know what I thought. I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
I don’t want to tell her no, but I also don’t know if she’s just asking for company or something else. Not that it matters. Either way I’m not inclined to turn her down.
“I’ll just turn out the lights.”
“Okay.” She smiles and sinks back against the pillows. I lock the bedroom door—the last thing I need is Ryan or Queenie barging in tomorrow morning and freaking out before I’ve even had a coffee. I flip off the light in the hall and leave only the vanity light on in the bathroom so I can see where I’m going and what I’m doing. I strip down to my boxer briefs and a t-shirt in the bathroom before I return to the bedroom.
Hanna’s eyes are already closed. I stand there, taking in how beautiful she is, long dark hair fanned out across her pillow. And for a moment I have to wonder if this is some kind of messed up divine intervention. For a handful of months Hanna and I felt like a team. And I realize that beyond the sex, that’s what I’ve missed the most. Feeling like she had my back and I had hers. I could have fun with her, hang out with her, get naked and dirty with her. But with a baby on the way, it weaves us together in a new way. I don’t know how to feel about it.
I cross over to the bed and set my phone on the nightstand. Hanna blinks blearily at me when I slide under the covers beside her. I extinguish the light and murmur goodnight.
Her fingers brush mine under the covers and then disappear. “Night, Jake.
***
I don’t wake up on my side of the bed. During the night Hanna and I must have gravitated towards each other because we’re full-on spooning. My knees are tucked into the back of hers, her back against my chest, my nose in her hair, my lips touching her shoulder, arm slung over her waist and my hand resting protectively against her stomach.
My morning wood is also pressed against her lower back.
I’m both grateful that I still get morning wood, at least in the presence of female company, and inconvenienced by it. I also realize that sometime during the night I must have gotten hot, because my t-shirt has disappeared.
Which means there is a lot of skin-to-skin contact. Particularly below the waist.
Hanna is wearing a nightshirt. And underwear. I think. However, the nightshirt has ridden up and my skin sticks to hers wherever we touch. I don’t want to move. I want to stay here and enjoy the feel of her warm soft body against mine. I don’t want to admit it, but I’ve missed this. In the past I’d never really let my guard down the same way I did with Hanna. She was just . . . easy to be with. Every time we slept together, in the same bed, which was often up until the wedding, we always woke up in the exact same position.
Except then I’d been able to put my erection to good use. I’m not so sure Hanna will appreciate my nudging her in the back in the same way she used to. Especially since it’s the very reason we have to have some difficult conversations later this morning.
I expect that line of thinking will help deflate the problem, unfortunately it doesn’t do the trick. I carefully start to lift my arm, but her hand covers mine and she shifts just the tiniest bit. Her soft, round ass presses against my hard-on. I don’t know if she’s awake and it’s intentional, or if she's still mostly asleep and merging dream and reality.
“Hanna?” my voice is gravelly with sleep.
She makes a noise that sounds like a hum.
“Are you awake?”
She laces her fingers with mine. “About fifty-fifty. How about you?”
“I’m definitely awake.” And getting harder by the second.
“I can feel that.” She presses her hips back.
“Sorry, he’s got a mind of his own.” I fight the urge to grind against her. I’m figuring it’s going to take another thirty seconds before her fog clears and she realizes exactly what’s going on. “I’ll just go to the bathroom—”
“Seems like a waste of a perfectly good hard-on.” I can practically feel her biting her lip. As it is she stops moving. Breathing.
My stupid erection jerks at his mention, as if he’s in complete agreement. “Not that I’m a fan of wasting perfectly good erections, but are you sure this is a good idea?”
“I could use the connection and the stress relief,” she says softly.
I want to ask her if she’s going to regret today’s decision tomorrow, but I could use the stress relief and the escape, too. Because today is going to be difficult for a lot of reasons.
I press my lips against the top of her spine. She rolls her hips and urges my hand lower. I find the hem of her nightshirt and slip my fingers underneath. I’m right, she’s wearing panties. From the feel they’re cotton. I don’t dip under the waistband, though. I don’t know if this is an emotionally fueled one off, or not. And if it’s the last time I get to touch her like this, I’m going to make it good.
I drag my fingers along her stomach, up between her breasts, all the way to her collarbones before I reverse the circuit, skimming along the swell of her breast. I’m not sure if I’m imagining it or not, but they feel fuller than last time. A very ample handful.
I brush her nipple and she gasps. “Just gentle, they’re so sensitive.”
“Tell me if it’s too much or not enough.” I kiss along her neck to the edge of her jaw. I should have suggested brushing my teeth before I started down this path, but it’s too late now. And I have no desire to stop what I’ve started just for the sake of fresh breath.
She rolls her hips, hand sliding over mine through the fabric of her nightshirt. I brush her nipple again and she sighs. We stay like that for a while, just touching, hips rolling, until she pulls her night shirt over her head and pushes her panties over her hips.
She leans over to the nightstand and for a second I think she’s searching for a condom. Which is basically pointless now. But she grabs a pack of mints and pops one in her mouth. Flipping over, she pushes one between my lips.
“Where’d these come from?”
“My purse.” She settles her hand on my chest and pushes me onto my back. She pulls my boxers down, freeing my erection, then straddles my hips. She’s stunning first thing in the morning, hair chaotic, cheeks pink, and for a moment I’m struck with a pang of frustration that we didn’t have more time to just be together like this before it all imploded.
Her delicate fingers wrap around my erection and stroke slowly, thumb sweeping over the head, spreading wetness. She slides forward, rubbing me against her clit as she rises up, positions me at her entrance and takes me inside.
I love how uninhibited she is with me. The way she takes her pleasure, touches herself and tells me what she needs and wants to help her reach orgasm. She places her palms on my chest, hips rolling in slow circles, head thrown back, breasts swaying.
“I missed this,” I groan, holding her hips and helping her rock over me.
“Me, too. So much,” she pants.
“I missed you,” I admit as I push up on one elbow and cup her breast in my palm, flicking at her nipple with my tongue. She sucks in a breath and grips the back of my neck, moaning oh yes. I sit up and rearrange her legs so they’re behind me. With one hand on the center of her back and the other splayed out over her collarbone I drop my head and cover her nipple with my mouth. I lap at her gently and suck softly.
I stay deep inside her, letting her control the way she moves while I pull her closer and closer to the edge with every suck and nibble. I drag my hand down her stomach and reach between us, finding her swollen clit and rub firm circles until her fingernails dig into my shoulder and she moans my name. I’m right behind her, finding my own release.
I collapse back against the pillows, bringing her with me.
“I forgot about the first and second trimester libido increase.” she mumbles against my chest.
“Is that a thing?”
“It was for me, and still seems to be.”
“Just know that if you need my support in this area at all during any trimester, I’m definitely here for you.”
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