Chapter Ninety
Raleigh
“Oh, fuck, Lincoln, baby!” I cry as my orgasm grows closer. Since becoming pregnant, I feel like I’m always horny and the one time that we had sex, it was like I came so quick and easy. Not that Lincoln has ever had an issue with getting me off, but it was even easier than ever before. “Oh, God! I’m close, Lincoln.”
Lifting his head and watching me as he pulls his fingers almost all the way out before inserting three back in and pushing in as deep as he can, he curls them inside of me, hitting my g-spot as he demands, “Cum for be Baby girl. Cum all over my fingers.”
“No,” the word comes out as a moan as my orgasm draws nearer. “Please, I want to feel you inside of me when I cum. I want to cum on your cock.”
I want him desperately and I’m not above begging. Especially when I don’t know what direction that this talk that he wants to have is going to go.
*Last time in the car can’t be the last time that we get to be together if he’s going to end things between us,* tears blur my vision at the thought and I turn my face away from him, not wanting him to see me cry.
Without thinking I sniffle and immediately freeze, knowing that he will have caught the sound.
“Babe?” Lincoln asks, his voice gentle as fingers grasp hold of my chin and turn my head to where I’m staring up into his heated but confused blue orbs.
Pulling his hand from between my thighs, Lincoln reaches up and swipes away a stray tear that I hadn’t even noticed escape with the pad of his thumb while lifting me from the bed and pulling me onto his lap.
“Talk to me,” he murmurs, cradling my cheek with one hand, the other hand resting gently against my lower back but tight enough for our bodies to be pressed against one another. “What’s wrong? Where did you go in that beautiful head of yours that made you upset?”
Unable to keep looking at him, I break eye contact just as more tears begin to fall. Quickly, I try to wipe them away but it’s no use because more just replace them. I’m not really looking at anything, just keeping my eyes trained toward the bed as I murmur, “I just wanted you to make love to me one last time before you broke up with me.”
“Before I—,” instead of finishing what he was going to say, he once more uses gentle fingers at my chin to guide my head up, so that I will look at him. The look on his face is one of understanding, his eyes full of regret and determination. Threading our fingers together, he lifts my hand to his lips and kisses the back of my hand before looking me in the eyes and saying, “I didn’t come here to break up with you, baby.”
“Y‒you didn’t?” I ask, stumbling over my words, unable to believe the words he just said.
Shaking his head back and forth, he says, “I should have done things differently‒better‒I admit and I’m sorry for that. I shouldn’t have left you hanging for the last month while I figured things out.”
“But that’s what I told you to do—” he cuts me off with a shake of his head.
“I don’t care; I still should have handled the whole situation better. Yes, I needed to figure my shit out, to take the time to make sure that I could be the man and father that you and the babies need me to be, but I shouldn’t have ghosted you, leaving you in the dark like I did. That’s kind of the whole reason that I came over here today.” As he says this, he pushes some hair behind my ear before cupping my cheek once more.
“It’s not because your brother talked to you?” I ask, putting my foot in my mouth.
*Shit*, I think to myself, wincing slightly when his eyes heat slightly and not in a good way at the mention of Jackson. *Well, if he didn’t know about my confession to his brother, I guess he’s about to. When will I learn to keep my mouth shut?*
“Jax did talk to me earlier…” he starts but stops and breaks eye contact for a moment. And my stomach sinks. When he starts speaking again, he sounds broken as he asks, “Do you want him?”
I begin tearing up once more at the question because even though I knew the conversation was coming, I wasn’t prepared for him to outright ask me if I wanted his brother, and the answer isn’t as simple or as cut and dry as that.
“I don’t know…” I whisper as more tears make their way down my cheeks, falling and landing on Lincoln’s light blue shirt. “I don’t really know what I feel. I *know* that I want you, that’s never changed or wavered but with Jackson, it’s confusing…because the person that I’ve been spending time with isn’t really *him*. He’s playing a part and it’s like I’m drawn to the character that he’s playing-which is supposed to be you-does that even make sense?”
I don’t even give him a chance to respond before I jump away from him, grab the throw blanket that I must have thrown on the floor this morning and run over to the corner of my room, curling into a ball as tears and regret assault me.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so, so fucking sorry,” I cry, repeating the words on a loop as I rock back and forth, burying my face in my hands as the reality of everything that I’ve put this man through over the last three months hits me all at once.
I’m too lost in my own turmoil to realize that he’s followed me until he’s crouched beside me, slipping one arm beneath my legs and the other around my back. Without any trouble at all, Lincoln stands back up and makes his way back over to my bed, sits me down at the head of the bed, pulls his shirt over his head before pulling it over my head and then, as if numb and unable to do anything myself, he helps me work my arms through the arm holes.
Crawling into the bed next to me, he pulls my comforter up over us, pulls me into his body where my head is resting against his chest with his arms wrapped tightly around my body.
My breaths are still unsteady, a hiccup escaping every once in a while, but Lincoln just holds me tightly, telling me how much he loves me and how, some way he isn’t ever going to leave me again. He says this repeatedly until eventually I fall asleep.
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