Enjoy Your Stay (19 page)

As he looks over at me, I know he’s thinking the same thing. How explosive that early-morning sex was, and how it was one of the last times we’d been that carefree and in love. He smiles, but it’s tinged with sadness, and then he shakes his head and goes about setting out the food for us to eat. He’s remembered all my favourite cheeses, only I can’t eat them now on account of the baby potentially getting some kind of mad-cow disease if things are unpasteurized, so I munch on some of the crackers he lays out. He pulls out a bottle of my favourite moscato, and then visibly baulks. “Shit, I’m so sorry, I forgot.”

“That I was a pregnant, raging alco?”

“I brought water. It’s not fancy, but it won’t kill our baby. So that’s a plus, right?”

I take the bottle from him, ignoring the weird little thrill I get when he says, “our baby”.
Fucking hormones.

“Oh, here, I brought this for you,” I say, and fish the tiny square from my handbag.

He takes it and looks it over, and then his eyes go wide as I’m guessing the image and the big arrow pointing to the jelly-bean-shaped thing in the centre that reads baby becomes clearer. His eyes cloud over, then his arms engulf me. It’s uncomfortable, but also familiar.

I settle into the embrace, take a deep breath, and—holy Jesus and cheese on a fucking cracker. Why do guys smell so good these days? I swear to God, just this morning I was seconds away from rubbing myself up against Bob just to smell his cologne.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I’m just about to bury my nose into Coop’s armpit when he pulls me back, and places his hands on my belly.

“I kinda forgot babies had that effect on people,” I mutter, feeling awkward again.

“It’s hard to believe it’s so tiny,”

“Was so tiny. He’s actually a lot bigger than that now. They tend not to print photos at this stage, though, they kinda just burn them to disc.”

“And you have those?”

“Of course.”

He glances down at the picture again. His blue-grey eyes blaze with all the things he doesn’t say. “So you haven’t told me how you’re doing with the mummy stuff?”

“Well, it’s a little weird,”

“Really? How so?”

“I have a life growing inside me, Coop, how is that not weird?”

He shrugs. “You tell me.”

“Well, first of all, he kicks like a motherfucker.”

“Ha ha, goddamn I missed that mouth of yours, Hols.”

I smile, though he doesn’t mean that in the kinky way it sounds. Or maybe he does? He is kinda looking like he wants to throw me down, and show me the true meaning of god. “And two, I’m hungry all the time. Like, all the time. It never stops. I spent the first six months throwing up my insides, and now I can’t get enough. In fact, I can feel my arse widening when I just stare at a cracker.”

“Nah, you look as fucking hot as ever.”

“Ha! You haven’t seen the stretch marks over my once-beautiful flat stomach.”

“Then show me.” He challenges.

“I’m not showing you my torn-up skin, it’s gross.”

“Lift up your shirt.” Coop demands.

“No,” I say, and hold the hem down over the waistband of my skirt.

He leans over, and I fall back onto the soft blanket in an attempt to get away. The next thing I know, the little containers of cheese and the packet of crackers are going everywhere. He leans in like he’s going to kiss me, and then I feel his hands slip up under the edge of my shirt, and over my distended stomach. My natural instinct when anyone tries to touch my belly is to pull away, so I jump. Coop’s gaze trails up from my abdomen to meet my eyes.

“Hold still,” he whispers in a low, melodic voice. For a second, I’m transported back to a time when he sang me to sleep while I lay naked in his arms.

He pushes my T-shirt up to expose my belly and the soft loose waistband of my skirt down until my whole tummy is exposed. He places his hands on either side of my stomach, and sweeps his hand around and over my flesh. I swear this has to be the single most erotic encounter in my life, and he hasn’t even touched my lady parts, but something about being worshipped for what you are, flaws and all, is kinda nice—especially for a woman who feels like her sexuality is going to vanish the minute this kid pops its head out of her vagina. I sigh, close my eyes, and let the smattering of warm sunshine filtering through the trees set fire to my skin, the same way Coop’s touch is. I throw my hands up above my head and breathe deeply, melting into his touch.

“You’re still fucking amazing, Holly,” he whispers, and my eyes spring open as my gaze meets his heated one. He’s on his knees between my legs, and I can see his hard cock pressing against the front of his jeans. “Don’t let anyone tell you differently.”

I pull my shirt down, and sit upright. Coop shifts, too. His warm breath skates over my face, and then he moves closer until his lips meet mine, and he kisses me as fiercely and abruptly as Jack did on our veranda. His mouth on mine is so familiar that I get completely caught up in remembering the way that our bodies once fit together. My hands fly to his hair, and I tug at his too-long strands as he pushes my knees apart with his hand, and slides beneath my skirt. I gasp as he trails his fingertips—calloused from a lifetime of playing guitar—up the sensitive flesh of my thigh. I think of Jack’s hand trailing a similar path yesterday in our kitchen, and I feel my heart wrench. All the passion of the moment ebbs as reality slams into me.

“Coop, this isn’t a good idea.” I shift back, away from his touch so it can’t cloud my head any longer.

“Feels like a pretty good idea to me.”

“No. It doesn’t.”

“This is because of him, isn’t it?” he snaps.

“No, it has nothing to do with him. I just—things are complicated enough as it is.”

“How is this complicated if it’s not about him? You’re carrying my child, and I’m still in love with you, Hols. None of that has changed for me. I love you, and I want us to take care of our baby together. I want us to be a family.”

“I don’t love you, Cooper. I can’t just switch this shit on because you want me to. I gave you my heart, and you shoved it back in my face when you left town. You’re the father of my child, and I’ll admit there’s history between us that’s kinda hard to ignore, especially when you touch me like that, but—”

“But I’m not Jackson?”

“That’s not it at all.”

“Then what is
it
?”

“I’m about to have a baby. Forgive me for wanting to put this kid first before rock star ex-boyfriends and flatmates that are … well … Jackson. This kid has to be the most important thing in my life. I don’t really have time for anything else.”

“But you have time for your roommate to fuck you on the kitchen counter?”

I shrink back like he’d just slapped me. “How did you …?”

“Debbie saw the mess on your kitchen floor when she was at your house yesterday.”

“It’s not what you think it is. I mean, it is, but it was a stupid mistake that I have no intention of repeating again.”

“Good, because I’m not giving up that easily. I hate that he’s had his hands on you. I hate that he thinks he has some sort of claim on you, but I’m not giving up, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“Cooper—”

“I mean it, Holly. I’m not leaving, and I’m sure as hell not making you choose between me, and the people you love. But I am going to be there every step of the way. And you’re not going to get a say in it. I’m not walking away this time.”

Well, that’s just great. Awesome, even
, I think, as I stuff a cracker in my mouth to prevent myself from saying all the stupid shit I want to blurt out.

Shortly after that, Coop drops me off at home, and I run to my room to drop off my things and grab a change of clothes, before heading to the bathroom. It’s then that I run smack into Jack coming out of the shower, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, showing his beautiful cock at half-mast. He puts his arms on my shoulders to stop my baby-belly bulldozing him, and then he absentmindedly runs his thumbs over my skin, and I swear I come undone. I glance up at him, trying my best not to give him
come fuck me
eyes, but it’s obvious by his expression that I’m failing miserably.

F
UCK
.

The way she’s looking at me right now just makes me want to bend her over and impale her on my huge cock. I lean in, and smell sex. Not sex, exactly, it’s just Holly’s sweet, sweet scent, but she’s definitely aroused, or has been.
Fuck.
If I get my hands on that little cock-sucking, emo shit again, I’m gonna throttle him for messing with my woman. And yes, I’m aware I just called Holly-fucking-pain-in-my-arse-Harris my woman.

Jesus Christ. How the hell did I dig the hole so deep?

I lower my lips to her cheek, and whisper, “He get you off like old times, Hols?”

She pulls back, and glares at me. “Fuck you, Jack.”

“My room, or yours?”

“Very funny,” she snarls. “I need a shower.”

She stalks toward the bathroom, but I loop my arm around her shoulders and pull her back into me.

“No,” I whisper in her ear, and grind my Johnson against her arse. “You need to be fucked, sweetheart. Long, and hard, and merciless.”

She lets out a breathy moan.

“And I’m just the man to do it,” I say, and start easing her back into my room. “Here’s the thing you don’t realise, Hols. That might be Coop’s baby inside you, but he couldn’t ever satisfy you the way I can. You need a man, darlin’, a man who’s not afraid to get under your skin and piss you off, and give you a damn good fucking hiding whenever you need it—not a boy who wants to dress up and play house. The only housekeeping you need is to be on your knees, cleaning my cock,” I whisper, as I trail kisses down her neck before gently pushing her back on the bed.

“Jack—” she begins, but I press my fingers against her lips.

“You need someone, who can make you forget about everything, and just concentrate on feeling.”

She shakes her head, but when I slip my fingers up her skirt and tear off her panties she gasps like a fucking virgin in a sex shop. “You need this. You need me.”

“I don’t—” She begins, but then I cut off her speech by sliding my fingers down through her lips. A soft moan escapes her mouth. “This isn’t what—”

“What?”

“This isn’t what I want,” she mutters.

I chuckle, but it’s far from humorous. “Your perfect cunt disagrees, Hols.”

“I hate you.”

“Nah, you like me just fine.” I plunge two fingers inside, and start twisting them back and forth, pulling all the way out and then plunging back in again.

“Oh, fuck,” she pants, fisting the rumpled, dirty sheets in her hands. “More, I need more.”

“What more do you want, baby?”

“Please, Jack?”

“Say it.”

“No.”

“Fucking say it, Hols.”

“I need you, just you. I need you to show me …”

“Show you what?”

She hesitates, spearing me with her gaze. No fucking word of a lie, I feel my heart skip a beat inside my chest. She closes her eyes, and then jumps off the ledge. “I need you to show me … how you feel.”

“That so?”

She nods. “Before the crash, you said things. You said you wanted more. I need you to show me. I need to know how you really feel.”

“Fine then,” I say, and strip off my towel. She stares with hungry eyes at my cock, which is throbbing like a fucking bitch and begging for release. I stand before her on full display as I watch her writhe on the bed before me, her beautiful cunt glistening wet with need. I can’t resist stroking myself. I spit on my hand, and with a tight fist I pump my cock brutally, and watch as desire ignites within her veins, and a gorgeous pink hue flushes her skin. I slide my fingers over the head, collecting a drop of pre-cum with my thumb, and lick it off. Her mouth parts, her eyes hood over, and then they narrow in confusion as I step away from the bed, snatch up my jeans from the floor and pull them on, adjusting my cock so it doesn’t get caught in the zipper.

“What are you doing?”

“Showing you how I feel.”

“By getting me all worked up and walking away?”