Don't Lie (Don't 2)

“Oh my God. That. Do that again,” she begged.

“Like that?” I smiled wickedly, but fuck I was struggling to steady my own breath.

She had my cock strangled and clutched. I rocked into her, but the tingling in my balls started and I was going to come.

“Fuck,” I groaned. My hips jerking faster and harder.

Kaitlyn panted and bounced until we were both lost. Our bodies colliding, lingering long enough to catch a breath, and then twisting together with primal hunger. Skin sliding against skin, hands roaming and caressing, craving each other like we were desperate for air. The moans in the back of her throat grew louder until she was screaming my name.

Every muscle in my body tensed as I emptied myself inside her. Every. Fucking. Last. Drop.

“Oh shit.” I panted and kissed the small of her back.

I tucked her to my chest and lowered her to the couch.

“Is your knee ok?” she asked.

I laughed. “After that, you’re worried about my knee?” My hand lingered on the small swell of her belly. My baby was in there.

“I am. I don’t want you to get hurt again. You only got that brace off yesterday.”

“I thought you’d be more worried about the couch.” I leaned forward to kiss her.

“I do love the couch, by the way.”

I grinned. “Good. I think I kind of love it too.”

“Oh shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.” She squirmed under me. “What’s wrong?”

“Rehearsal dinner! We are supposed to be there now.” She scooted out from underneath me.

“I told you we could be a little late.”

“But I need to take a shower. And look at my hair. I need to iron my dress. And—”

I eyed her. “Take a breath.”

She nodded. “Right. We’ve got this, don’t we?”

I smiled. “We do.”

24

Kaitlyn

I tucked a flyway strand of hair behind my ear and patted the bun I had hastily pinned in place as Cole and I dashed through the doors of the Oceanside Restaurant. I couldn’t believe we were thirty minutes late. This was bad bridesmaid behavior. The restaurant lobby was packed.

But the couch was christened. Properly.

Cole and I exchanged smiles. It looked like cocktail hour was in full swing. No one had even noticed we weren’t in the room. Every two seconds, I would glance at his leg to see if he was uncomfo

rtable without the brace, but if he was in pain, he was hiding it from me. In a strange way, I had gotten used to him having crutches. It felt like we were missing something

He ordered two drinks for us at the bar, one non-alcoholic, and we planted ourselves against a wall. I was afraid to jump into the beehive of aunts again, and Cole wasn’t really mister social at these events.

“So, what do you think about all this?” Cole motioned to the crowd in front of us.

I wasn’t sure I followed the question. “What do you mean ‘all this’?”