Always The Hero (Plot Twist, I'm Pregnant 2)

Her eyes swam with tears, and they broke free from her waterline, sending rivers down her face. “Why? Why me?”

“I knew the moment I saw you.” I pressed my hand against my stomach like she did earlier. “I feel it. Right here, like you do about your past. I never go against my instincts and going against what I feel for you; that’s what I would be doing. Letting you go, it isn’t an option, Abigail. If you want to leave, tell me now.” Before I fell even more in love with her, which would happen. I already had strong feelings for her, and it had only been a few days. The feeling was consuming, mind-numbing, soul-aching, but it felt right.

Everything with her felt right, like how it was supposed to feel with someone. Never once did it feel like that with Maria.

Her dark lashes were wet, and when she closed her eyes, I saw the stress leave her face, the relief. “Kiss me, Logan. Please.”

I slowly dragged my lips across the bridge of her nose, kissing the cute pointed tip. I didn’t lay us down; I kept us sitting up because I was afraid if I laid her horizontal, I’d rip that shirt off her body and worship her.

“Logan.” My name panted against my lips, and I knee-walked closer to her until our bodies were just mere inches apart.

I smoothed my hand up her neck until I had a firm grip of her jaw as I inched forward. I shouldn’t kiss her. She needed time, but as soon as her palm landed on my chest, right above my heart, those thoughts went out the window. “Don’t move,” I said, afraid that if she met me, I’d ravage her.

She moved.

“Don’t,” I whispered, only a centimeter away from her mouth. The curve of her top lip looked like a cupid’s bow. It made sense, considering Abigail had shot me with an arrow only capable of love.

“Please,” her voice shook, and the last of my apprehension disintegrated.

I swallowed, coating my dry throat before I pressed my lips softly against hers.

A weight that I have had my entire life lifted off my chest once my lips locked with the person that was meant to be mine. She whimpered into my mouth, and her fingers dug into my chest. She barely kissed me back, and I knew right then and there that I was her first kiss. I opened my mouth, parting my lips slightly, and turned my head to the left. She followed my lead, and I melted against her. The soft clouds of her lips sank into mine, smooth and eager.

I fell in love right then.

I fell in love with how I felt with her.

I fell in love with her lips.

With her mind.

With her.

I was a goner.

I was the kind of guy that fell hard and fast, it was why I never dated because I always ended up hurt, so I never gave myself the chance to love.

Until now.

Taking a chance, I slid my tongue between her lips, swirling it around her own. She gasped, trepidatious at the new experience. Our lips closed, and I moved my head to the right, opening my mouth again. Her tongue flicked against mine, and the simple touch made my cock leak precome. I groaned into her mouth, wanting nothing more than to lay her down and kiss every inch of her body.

My mind started to haze; lust clouded me with desire, my cock pulsed. God, I needed her so fucking much. “Abigail,” I whispered, breaking our kiss and laying my forehead against hers. We struggled to breathe, trying to calm ourselves.

This might not have been my first kiss, but it was the only kiss that mattered.

“We should slow down,” I said just as the doorbell rang. The food had arrived.

Thank fuck.

I was too close to inching my hand up her shirt and copping a feel like a teenage boy experiencing his first make-out session in the back of a car, seeing if he could get to second base. That was how she made me feel.

Young. Inexperienced.

But alive, oh, so fucking alive.

My body shook, tremored, my muscles shaking from how tense I kept my body because of how much I held myself back.

“I want to keep kissing you,” she said just as her stomach growled, and she covered her face with her hands, embarrassed.