Proving Paul's Promise (16 page)

“What do you mean?” I stand up and start to actually soap myself now that most of the paint is gone.

“He’s working really hard to make it easy for me, but I wish he’d just leave and go to work and let me try to do some of it. He holds her. He gets up for every feeding and sits with us. He changes all the diapers.”

I stick my head out of the curtain. “Not necessarily a bad thing.”

“It’s like he thinks I can’t do it. I’m capable. I’m strong. I’m not going to break.” A tear tracks down her face. “Dammit.” She swipes it away. “I can’t stop crying lately.”

“Pass me a towel,” I say. I wrap it around myself and step out. “I think you have a really good thing going on,” I tell her. “But you’re tired and your hormones are going crazy and your tits are huge.” I look at her boobs and shake my head, and she laughs. At least I can do that much for her; I can make her laugh. “It’s going to get easier.”

“I miss our intimacy,” she admits. “It’s like he’s afraid to wrap around me because he doesn’t want to wake me up when I do finally get to sleep.”

“Did you tell him?”

“I don’t want to complain. He’s trying so hard.”

“I’ll take care of it,” I say. I pat her shoulder and put a robe on. “Come with me while I get dressed, and then I’ll give him a few pointers.”

“No,” she protests. But she gets up and follows me. “Let’s talk about sex for a minute.” She points to me. “Yours. Not mine.”

I grin. “Okay.” She follows me into the bedroom, and I shut the door behind us.

Paul

Logan is such a little fucker. He looks at the pillow shoved in my lap and grins. “When are you going home?” I grouse.

He pops a nut in his mouth and talks around it. “Never.” He smiles even bigger.

I throw the extra pillow at him. “Fuck you, asshole,” I say. I jerk my thumb toward the bathroom. “Is Em okay? She looks stressed.”

His head jerks around to look in that direction. “She does? I’ll go get her.” He gets up, so I flip the light to get his attention.

“Come back,” I tell him. “Sit.”

He flops down. I set my pillow to the side because Logan has effectively killed my hard-on. I have a feeling Friday can get it back, though. Just by looking at me, probably. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

His chest fills with air as he sighs. “I try to help her. I try to do everything for her. But she doesn’t seem to like it. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

I wait for him to continue.

“And her boobs are like—” he makes a grasping motion in the air “—like huge. And I want to touch them, but she says they hurt, so I try to sleep on the other side of the bed when we do sleep. I miss her. I want to toss my leg over her naked ass and sleep wrapped around her.”

“Her boobs probably do hurt.” If I remember correctly from Kelly when she had Hayley, she said the same thing. But we didn’t live together, so I didn’t get immersed in it the way Logan is. “Rub her feet or something nice. Hell, pick anything else to rub.”

His face lights up.

“Not that,” I say with a laugh.

He waves a hand in the air like he’s dismissing me. “That’s not even the part I miss. I can do without that.”

I snort.

“Don’t get me wrong. I like that as much as the next guy, but I don’t have to have it. It’s her I have to have.” He looks toward the bathroom, and we see Friday come out wearing a robe. I want to go with her. But Emily follows her into her room and they close the door. Damn. Cock blocked by the best friend and my brother. “You suck,” I grouse at him.

He laughs. He nods toward Friday’s room. “How’s that going? Do I need to restock the condom drawer?”

“What do you think I’m going to do, get her more pregnant?”

He laughs, but it’s a serious thing.

“We haven’t done…that…yet,” I say quietly. I can’t believe I’m discussing this with my little brother.

“What the fuck are you waiting for?” he asks. He leans forward. I have all of his attention.

“I’m waiting for her to commit,” I admit.

He sits back. “Oh,” he says.

“I’m just not sure she’s going to be here forever.” I shrug. “That’s all.”

“I think you’re right.”

My gaze jerks up. I didn’t expect him to agree with me. I expected him to reassure me. “What do you mean?”

“What are your intentions?” he asks.

“I want my fucking ring on her finger and my baby growing inside her.” Damn, I just shocked myself. And I might have to pick Logan up off the floor. He chokes on a cashew.

He clears his throat and says, “Then you need to buy a fucking ring and get on one fucking knee.”

“It’s too soon.” I look toward the bedroom to be sure the door is closed.

“If it’s too soon for a ring, it’s too soon to fuck her.”

“Says the guy who got his girlfriend pregnant.”

“But we didn’t get married because we were lazy. It wasn’t because we didn’t want to be married. If Friday doesn’t want to get married, then you need to reevaluate.”

Logan is so succinct with his thoughts. I’m glad he dropped by, actually, because I was going to fuck Friday all night long. And let her fuck me. And then do it all over again.

“Bet you wish I’d stayed at home,” he says.

I shake my head. “I’m actually glad you’re here. Oh!” I interrupt myself. I pull my phone from my pocket. “If I show you a picture, can you look at the art of it and not at her body?”

A vee forms between his brows. “Whose body is it?”

“Friday’s.”

“Eww… Like I could look at her with lustful intentions.” He pretends to gag and shivers dramatically.

“I want a tattoo that looks like this butterfly.” I show him the picture, and he grins.

“Damn, she’s good,” he says. He keeps smiling. “Where do you want it?”

“That spot on my chest.” I rub the place over my heart, which I know is bare.

He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “The one you’ve been saving?”

“Yeah.” I scratch my head and wish he’d stop prying.

“Sure. I’ll draw it up tonight.” He sends the picture to himself.

“Can you ink it tomorrow?”

He nods. “You’re sure, aren’t you?” He grins.

A smile tips the corners of my lips. “Yes.”

The door opens, and Friday comes out of her room. She’s wearing a pair of baby-blue sleep shorts and a matching pajama top, and she looks so damn cute that I want to pull her into my lap. And then I want to take that outfit off her and suck on her titties until she squirms and begs me to fuck her.

Friday looks at Logan and signs something to him while Emily puts Kit into her car seat. I can’t catch every word, but I think she just said something about cuddling. He shakes his head, and she argues with him in sign language. Suddenly, he grins and signs,
Thank you.

You’re welcome
, she replies.

He hugs her and reaches for the car seat. “Thanks for letting us hang out,” he says.

“Come back anytime,” I reply. My voice is deadpan, but Logan can’t hear the inflection, so I make sure to put on a sad face.

He laughs, and Emily hugs Friday.

The door closes behind them. “What did you tell him?” I ask Friday.

“I told him to strip her naked and throw his leg across her butt and sleep cuddled up with her like he used to because she misses it.”

“Shut the fuck up,” I breathe. “He just said the same thing to me.”

She shrugs. “They’re so busy, they’re not talking to one another.” She walks up to me and stands up on tiptoe to put her arms around my neck. “You ready for bed?”

I kiss her, and I rethink my decision to wait. It’s hard with her pressed up against me. I set her back from me. “I…um…need to actually go to bed.” I scratch my head.

She steps back, her face falling. “Oh. Okay.”

“I’ll…uh…I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She doesn’t say anything and goes to her room. She slams the door behind her. I stand outside her door for much longer than I should. I want to go in. I want to open the door. Just as I start to walk away, I hear a noise from her room. It’s a low vibration, and I press my ear to the door.

Suddenly, it hits me. She’s getting off with a fucking vibrator. I pace back and forth up the hallway, smacking myself in the head with the heel of my hand. Stupid, stupid, stupid fucker.

It goes on for about two minutes, and I can’t stand it anymore.

I open her door and go to the side of her bed. “Move over,” I say.

The vibrator turns off. “Fuck,” she breathes.

“Move over now,” I say again.

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you. Now
move over
.”

She doesn’t move, so pick her up and shift her over. I get in beside her and reach for her hand, where I find a warm vibrator. It’s hot because she was using it. And it was touching her. I raise it to my lips and lick across it, and she tastes as good as I thought she would. Like spice and heat and Friday.

I push my body between her thighs and slide down. She protests and grabs my hair, trying to pull me back up.

“Stop it,” I say. I take her hands and pin them together in one of mine and rest them on her belly. She could easily pull free. But she doesn’t.

I touch the vibrator to her pussy and keep pressing and searching until I find her slick hole. I slide it inside to get it wet and then move up, looking for her clit. She stops moving, and a noise escapes her throat when I find it. “Right there,” she breathes. I turn it on, and she moans.

“Be still,” I say, but her hips arch and press against my touch. She rocks against the vibrator, and her legs shake ever so slightly.

“You didn’t want me,” she says. “Why are you doing this?”

“I want you. I just can’t have you yet. I need to fucking marry you first. So you can’t run away from me.”

She lifts her head to look down at me. I can see her face from the light in the window. “No fucking way.”

“Yes fucking way.” I press the vibrator against her and find a rhythm with it, and she starts to tremble. “I fucking love you, Friday. Let me fucking love you.”

I don’t give her time to think. I don’t want her to think. Not about this. She cries out when she comes, and her body trembles and shakes. I let her hands go free, and she sinks one into my hair, gently tugging as the orgasm quakes through her body. Again and again, she jerks until she stills and pushes the vibrator away.

“That was the worst proposal ever,” she says when she can finally breathe.

“I know. I’ll do it again tomorrow.” I toss the covers over both of us and reach for her.

She shoves me away. “Get the fuck out of my bed, Paul,” she says.

“No fucking way. I make you come, I get to sleep in your bed.”

“Get out, Paul,” she says. But there’s no heat in her voice. None at all.

“I’m staying.” I pull her against me. She’s wearing that pajama top and nothing on the bottom, so I pull the top over her head. She’s naked in my arms, and she feels so fucking good. I snuggle closer so that my thighs cradle her bottom. I cup her breast in my hand, just because I can’t get close enough to her, and she lays her head on my arm. I brush her hair down between us. “Let me sleep with you.”

“Okay,” she says quietly. She yawns, and I feel her warm breath on the inside of my elbow. Within seconds, the woman I love is asleep in my arms. And my dick is so hard it’ll probably never go soft again.

Friday

I wake up sweating, stuck against a man. I haven’t been stuck like this to a member of the opposite sex in years, and it feels kind of foreign. Then the thoughts of yesterday seep back into my brain.

He painted my naked body.

He got all intimate with my nipples.

He supported my art project with lustful eyes.

He let me jump into his arms and pretty much promised me he was going to do amazing things to me last night.

He didn’t kiss me back when I threw my arms around his neck.

He told me he didn’t want to sleep with me.

He went to bed.

But he didn’t go to bed.

He listened outside my door and heard my vibrator.

Then he took it from me and fucking made me come.

He told me he loved me.

Then he went to sleep.

In my bed.

With me in it.

Wrapped around me like he wanted to be with me for the rest of his life.

Did he mention marriage?

Oh, holy hell. He did mention marriage.

I roll over slowly, trying not to wake him. He’s sleeping on his side, facing me, but his blond eyelashes flutter. I freeze, my nose a mere inch from his, and try to will him back to sleep. I want to look at him. I want to study his crooked nose up close. I think he got that hump when he broke it fighting with someone in the shop. They said something crude to Pete and Paul went after them. Not
him
.
Them
. He didn’t think twice. He protects his family with everything he has.

He has blond beard stubble on his cheeks. I wonder if he shaves every day. He’s always so fresh faced. His lip is pierced and so is his eyebrow. I look down and study the barbells that are in his nipples. Each one has a bulky bead on the end of it. One is an
R
and one is an
H
. Probably for
Reed
and
Hayley
? I’m not sure, and I don’t know him well enough to ask.

Yes, I’ve known him for four years, but I had to set myself apart from them a little because no matter how much I wanted to be, I wasn’t part of their family. I was just an employee. I couldn’t get too comfortable because when I get comfortable, people leave. They let me down, every single time.

I lift my knee and brush against Paul’s erection. Whoa. He was hard when I went to sleep last night. I know he was because I could feel it. He’s wearing only boxers right now. He must have gotten up during the night to take his jeans and shirt off because I distinctly remember the feel of his clothing against my inner thighs when he was
down there
.

Still trying not to wake him, I pull the elastic of his boxers away from his stomach and look down.

Damn.

That man is way bigger than I would have even imagined. At the head, he has a piercing with a jewel in the center. It’s a Prince Albert piercing. It makes me wonder who did it for him because I know I didn’t. I don’t like the idea of anyone else getting intimate with his dick. Hopefully, it was a guy who pierced him. But I highly doubt it.