Working for the same damn hospital.
What are the odds?
The universe has pushed us back into a forbidden relationship.
Right in the middle of a crisis.
A lawsuit.
Well, it’s a good thing I’m an attorney.
I can make it go away in a second.
But what about the crisis that I have no control over?
Nick got me pregnant.
The last thing I wanted was an accidental pregnancy.
But could it be the only thing we both need?
Prologue
Mia
The last time I had sex with Nick Foster was four years ago. It was slow, sweet … perfect. I’d been hopelessly in love with him. So much so, I’d been seriously considering abandoning my dream of taking a job at a prestigious law firm in big city to live Nick’s dream of returning to our small hometown together. No one at home knew we were in a relationship beyond friendship, but Nick was sure our families would be supportive of it. Just after I had a delicious orgasm, we learned he was wrong when my brother, Nick’s best friend showed up by surprise. He wasn’t supportive, he was pissed, feeling betrayed by Nick. That altercation caused the initial crack in our relationship. It didn’t take long for it to grow and tear us apart. The love that I thought would last forever was gone within forty-eight hours. Well, maybe not the love, but the relationship was over.
Now here I was, letting him touch me again. We weren’t in love now. Sure, the attraction was still strong, but that wasn’t love. He was in pain and wanted to get lost in someone. Would any woman have done? If that was true, I should have stopped. While I knew this wasn’t the beginning of a relationship, I didn’t want to be just a convenient fuck. And yet as he pulled my blouse off and dragged his tongue over the swells of my breasts, I knew I wouldn’t stop him. The truth was, I wanted this too.
Four years ago, Nick was vocal during sex, but tonight he was quiet. His hands kneaded my breasts, his tongue taking turns lapping at one nipple and then the other. Soon we were both naked on his couch. The room was dark, but I could see him clearly. I could see the guilt and pain on his face even though that was what this encounter was supposed to help him escape.
I wondered again at the wisdom of this encounter. Nick’s heart and mind needed soothing, but sex probably wasn’t the right balm.
“Fuck me, Mia.” His words came out soft, almost like it was a thought, and not something he meant to say out loud. Once again, I found myself powerless to stop. I’d tried to move on from Nick when we broke up four years ago. I was sure I was over him. But I couldn’t deny that I’d never met anyone who made me yearn for them the way he did. It was like my entire body remembered him and had come alive in anticipation of his touch.
I straddled his thighs, rubbing my pussy over his sheathed dick. I looked at him, but his head was down, resting against my breasts. His hands were on my hips, as I lowered down over him.
He was thick and hot, and I realized my memory of him was lacking. He filled every bit inside me and it was spectacular. I gripped his shoulders, and began to move,
up and down, in a slow long ride.
He groaned, his fingers kneading my hips. It seemed impossible but he thickened inside me, the friction increasing with each delicious slide until I was bouncing on him, driving towards my orgasm. I teetered on the edge, release just a thrust away. I was sure he was close too.
Then his hands squeezed, and held me as I dropped over him, his dick filling me. He kept me from moving, his breathing was harsh as he dropped his head between my breasts again.
I started to say something, but his grip loosened. I rocked and he groaned. Then I started to ride again. Quickly I was back up, riding him hard. My pussy throbbed as each slide of him pushed me closer to the edge again.
“Oh God, Nick.” My fingers dug into his shoulders as my climax rushed toward me. I sank down, knowing next time, pleasure would fill my body. His hands squeezed again, holding me in place, preventing me from taking that one last ride. I groaned in frustration. “Nick.”
His thumb slid between my thighs and rubbed over my clit. I tried to rise, but he held me there, so all I could do was rock over him.
My breath was harsh as I sought my pleasure. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” I chanted, worried he’d tease me again. Fortunately, he didn’t stop. I tilted my pelvis, his dick hitting that one exquisite spot, just as his thumb stroked over my clit. My orgasm roared through me reminding me how much better they were when they were given from someone else instead of alone by myself.
He growled against my chest, as my pussy convulsed in pleasure. Finally, I was done. I looked down on him, as I gulped in a breath. Why was he denying himself pleasure?
“What’s going on?” I asked. He wanted sex to help him forget someone under his care had died, and yet he wouldn’t let himself enjoy it.
He ignored my question as he also took in a couple of deep breaths, and then encouraged me to move over him again. He was hard as a rock and thicker and longer than I remembered. I rode him again, watching him as brought him up and up, only to have him stop me again when he was on the brink. His expression was pained. Was that what he was doing? Torturing himself? He was letting himself get to the edge of pleasure but not taking that final leap.