The logical thing here would be to marry Bethany, and they’d adopt Jason together. But then what? Did he drag the pair of them around the world with him? Did he leave them at home, and would Bethany be like Tayra, a woman who hated the neglect, the worry, the fear? None of
that seemed like a good idea. He sure as hell didn’t want to end up watching Bethany walk away from him.
He tightened his arms around her. Hell no. Letting her go wasn’t an option, but he wasn’t sure about anything else.
Feeling her stir in his arms, he looked down to see her watching him, her eyes glimmering in the moonlight. Slade reached up and flicked on a light. He guessed it was time to talk after all.
Chapter 13
Bethany squinted against the sudden light in the room. She glanced around at the peach walls. The bed was soft and big. They’d wrecked the sheets and coverlet. She could also almost hear the wheels turning in Slade’s head. She vacillated between feeling like this had been a mistake and wanting to insist that they do it again.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked her, stealing her question.
She traced the hard abs on his stomach. “What happens next?”
Slade brushed her hair back from her forehead. “What do you want to happen?”
Bethany propped her fist on his chest and her chin on her fist. “I don’t really know.”
“Let’s start with Jason.”
Bethany sighed. “I know he’s not my son, but I’m not letting him go.”
Picking up her free hand, he kissed her fingers. “I’m not asking that.”
“Yeah, but you live in San Diego.”
“And you’re opposed to moving? Something you don’t like about palm trees? I have a very nice and very big house on the beach. Four empty bedrooms. It doesn’t need work to fix it up. You could sell Tayra’s place and put the money into a trust for Jason.”
Bethany pushed away from him and sat up. “It sounds like you’ve got it all worked out already. Are you asking me about this, or telling me?”
He blinked, and for once, he looked a little uncertain. “What do you think?”
She shook her head. “I think we need to do what you said—get the test results and then figure it out.”
Slade watched her for a minute. He pulled her against his chest. “Okay, that works.”
He turned off the light, but Bethany lay there, awake now. It would work—for a night. Tomorrow everything might change. Why did all of this feel like she was losing control of her life?
***
Slade woke early. He dressed, went for his usual run. He came back to find Bethany in the kitchen, dressed already, with coffee in her hand. She lifted a plate of blueberry muffins. “Our cooking fairy came when I was in the shower.”
Grabbing a muffin, Slade dropped a kiss on her cheek. “I’ll clean up and we’ll head over to the hospital.”
He headed into the shower, had barely gotten the water where he liked it when Bethany slipped in, naked. “Want your back scrubbed?”
He put his arms around her. “I was thinking more of fronts.”
She grabbed the soap. “Hands on the wall, big guy.” He did as she asked, bracing his palms on the cold tile. The shower was huge, with double jets. Closing his eyes, Slade let her soap up his back. She worked her way down to his ass, soaped the crack, pushed her hand down the crease and up the other side to where his sack dangled. He gave a groan and tried to turn, but she pushed him against the wall. “We do this my way,” she said. She took the soap in her hand and rubbed it over him, coming up between his legs. He was hard now. She wrapped a wet, soapy fist around him, squeezed, and pulled hard.
“You’re killing me here,” Slade said. She kept working him. She pushed up against him, rubbed her breasts over his back. She slipped her hands around his waist, took hold of him, soaped his sack, and then jerked hard. He came in a hot rush over her fingers. Panting now, he turned, caught her around the waist. “My turn,” he said.
He took the soap from her, kissed her hard, then leaned back to soap up her breasts. He worked his way down to the springy hair between her legs. Dropping the soap, he rubbed his hand over her mound. She squirmed, so he turned her to the wall, put her palms on the tile.
Leaning over, her put his hands on her breasts, tweaked her nipples. She gave a moan. He started to harden again. He rubbed himself up against her ass, reached around and slipped a finger into her. She was wet, and not from the water. She slicked his fingers and he pushed another finger into her, rubbed her, worked her as hard as she’d worked him. She squirmed, rubbing her ass against him.
Hard now, he squatted down to push up into her, slipped in, and gave a groan. She went up on tip toe and he grabbed her waist. She had a firm ass, but with enough butt on her that there was no way you could ever mistake her for a man. He pushed up into her and she tightened on him. The orgasm took him by surprise; hit him like a freight train. He slipped out of her and put his fingers back into her, but she stilled his hand. “We’re going to be late.”