Home > Sweet Little Thing (Sweet Thing #1.5)(14)

Sweet Little Thing (Sweet Thing #1.5)(14)
Author: Renee Carlino

With her legs spread, I could feel the heat radiating from her body. It was as though my hand had a mind of its own. I reached down and touched her, gently at first and in just the right spot. She sucked in a quick breath and then closed her eyes and moaned quietly. I placed my other hand on her hip and then slid it up her smooth sides, touching her breast, circling her nipple and then up farther until I was holding her neck and kissing her mouth. My other hand stayed at work on Mia as she made approving sounds against my lips. I could feel her pressing herself against me, harder, wanting more.

“I’m ready,” she said in a breathy voice.

I wondered in that moment if it would be shallow of me to like that part of Mia the best, the part of her that liked to plan secret stripteases and let me touch her all over. I’m a guy, after all. When we were together, kissing and touching, it was like playing music. She always knew what move to make, like she was subconsciously counting beats from a sheet of music. We were always so in sync that it felt like we’d been together for centuries, but in a good way. I was convinced we had lived twenty thousand lives, and in each one, we had found each other, like two tiny magnets in a drawer the size of the universe. She and I fit and moved together with such ease, I couldn’t imagine ever being with anyone else.

By the time I pulled away from her mouth, we were both naked. When I picked her up, she straddled me. Her perfect little legs were tightened around my waist like a vise, leaving little work for my arms. I moved to the wall and pressed her against the soundproofing material. Who knew those puffy little foam spikes could make wall screwing ten times better? I moved inside her as she settled on me until we were flush. I didn’t hesitate to press her hard against the wall. Our bodies melded together so effortlessly, moving with the rhythm of our mouths kissing and sucking.

She broke away from the kiss and pressed her head against the wall. Looking up and arching her back, she closed her eyes and called out a song of sounds: whimpers and moans, loud breaths and blissful cries so sweet and uninhibited that I couldn’t stop the waves crashing over me as I slammed into her. Against the wall, shivering like it was our first time, we both cried out.

I knelt down, still holding her against me, still inside her. She rested her head on my shoulder as we sat there embracing each other for several moments, trying to catch our breaths.

“Will?” she said in her melodic voice.

“Yes, baby.”

“I’m pregnant.”

Well if those two words didn’t throw this boy for a loop…

I leaned back so that I could look her in the eye.

“I don’t think it works that way, kitten. It usually takes a few weeks before one even has symptoms.” First stage: denial.

She took a deep breath through her nose and smiled piteously at me. “I don’t mean I got pregnant just now. I was already pregnant. I found out last week.”

“And you let me do that to you? What I just did… to you… against the wall?” I pointed frantically behind her. Second stage: anger.

“It’s okay to have sex when you’re pregnant.” She cupped my face. She was smiling, and then I saw a hint of sadness wash over her.

“I thought you were getting on the pill. I thought you were on the pill. Aren’t you on the pill?” Stage three: bargaining. In those moments after she told me, I had no clear stream of consciousness. I was simply spewing out every word that popped into my head.

“I never got a chance to start the pills.” Her eyes filled with tears.

“Are we going to be able to handle a baby and the expenses and… oh my God… everything will have to change because of this.” I gestured with my hand toward her stomach as I held her out, away from my body. Stage four: depression.

Tears were now streaming steadily down her face. Her eyes were scrunched up with such an expression of pain dragging them down that it made my heart ache. She sniffled and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry, Will. I thought you wanted this with me.” She looked down at her stomach the same way I had. “I’m sorry.” She put her face in her hands and began to sob. I was officially the biggest ass**le in the world. She was curled up in my arms, naked, sobbing, heartbroken, and pregnant with my child.

I watched her cry for several moments. She let me pull her closer so I could soothe her even though I was the cause of her pain. There was something so beautiful about her raw vulnerability, but it hurt to know I had caused her to feel that way.

“I love you,” I said.

“I’m sorry,” she replied.

At first the news of her pregnancy seemed life changing in a scary way, but those thoughts were fleeting. Sitting there with her crying in my arms, I realized our baby, which we had made together, was growing inside her. Once it became tangible in my mind, her being pregnant became the most life-affirming news I had ever received.

“No, I’m sorry.” I started kissing her all over. “I love this baby. This is our baby,” I said as I kissed her belly and br**sts and neck. “I’m so happy, Mia. I realize this is all I’ve ever wanted, to be with you and to make a family.” Stage five: acceptance.

I’m not sure why I had to weather the stages of grief after hearing the news that night. Maybe it was the death of my singledom or the death of my own childhood that scared me. For some reason, when you’re faced with the realization that you’re going to become a parent, it immediately changes how you view yourself. You no longer think of yourself as someone else’s child because you can’t be a parent and a child. It’s an official good-bye, and good-byes always scared the hell out of me.

   
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