Shatter (True Believers #4)(26)
Author: Erin McCarthy

“It definitely will.”

I wondered what options he was contemplating. I knew that I was debating whether it was even possible for me to stay in Cincinnati or if I would have to go back to my parents temporarily. I didn’t want to have to do that, but financially it probably made more sense, plus I would have free babysitters I could trust. “So when are you supposed to finish up your masters degree?”

“May.”

“Oh, that’s good. Congrats. That’s a huge accomplishment. Are you going on for a PhD?”

“That’s the debate. I don’t think so. I was already on the fence about it, and now I think it would make more sense for me to get a job, and see how that goes for a few years. It will be easy to get a job because there is such a strong plastics and chemical industry here. I could make good money, which would then help you. I could probably give you at least a thousand a month. Would that be helpful?”

My mouth fell open. Like down into the cle**age. “That much? I wasn’t even expecting half that. I was actually thinking maybe I would have to go live with my parents to make it work. They live in Troy.”

“That’s over an hour away.” He didn’t look happy. “It would be hard for me to see the baby.”

“But if you can give me that much support, then I don’t have to move back. I can stay here. I might even move in here so that Rory and Tyler can help me out if I absolutely need it. Like the whole watch-the-sick-baby-while-I-run-to-the-store-and-get-baby-Tylenol kind of thing. And then you can see her whenever you want.”

I wasn’t sure why I always referred to the baby as “her.” But it just felt natural.

He nodded. “That would make me a lot happier. Okay, so I’ll start looking for a job. I’m confident I can get a lab job as a chemist. Done.”

I smiled, giddy with how rational we were with each other. We both wanted the same thing—what was best for the baby, and what was best for the baby was to have both parents in her life. “You feel marketable?”

“I feel in demand,” he said, giving me a teasing shrug. “Because, you know, who wouldn’t want me?”

I did. But I couldn’t say that. Or could I? My expression must have revealed something of what I was thinking because his smile fell off his face and his eyes darkened behind his glasses. I shifted, moving my legs back to the floor so that my body was closer to his. I dropped my gaze to his lips. Would he bolt if I kissed him? I willed him to kiss me so that I didn’t have to make that first move and risk rejection.

Fortunately, he did. Jonathon shifted on the couch and put his hand on the back of my head. “Do you want me?” he asked, lips very close to mine. “I want you, Kylie. I know it’s a bad idea, but I can’t help it. I want you so goddamn bad, I can already taste you.”

“I want you, too.” I put my hands on his chest and locked my fingers onto the fabric of his plaid shirt to draw him closer to me. “I think it’s okay, you know. I can’t get pregnant a second time.”

He was kissing my neck, his touch feathery and arousing. For the first time in three weeks I didn’t feel nauseous. “We don’t have to have sex,” he said. “I know you don’t feel good. I just want to touch you, hold you.”

What could possibly be hotter than that?

Jonathon kissed me softly, his lips lingering over mine in a kiss that was as sweet as it was passionate, before urging me onto my back. His hands slid under my sweatshirt and he cupped my br**sts, which were straining against the fabric. “You already feel different. Your br**sts are fuller.”

They were also more sensitive. I bit my lip when he brushed his thumb across my nipple.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

I nodded. More than good. It felt amazing. “Oh, God, Jonathon, do that again.”

“I feel so bad that you’ve been sick. I want you to feel good.”

“You make me feel good. Really good.” He did. His touch was gentle, skilled, and he was aware of every sound, every goose bump, every reaction I made.

I wanted to reach down, undo his pants, explore his naked body, but while I didn’t feel in danger of losing my paltry dinner on him, I had no strength to even unzip. I just lay there and let him do what he wanted, all of which made me feel warm and delicious, and happy with my body for the first time since early December. He had slipped my oversized pajama pants down and he was using his tongue on me, the rhythm steady and dedicated. He seemed determined to compensate me for the weeks of morning sickness. I wasn’t going to argue. I had been through hell, right? I was entitled to a little o**l s*x.

My eyes were closed and I dug my fingers into the softness of his hair, the shaggy top a good length to grip. It wasn’t even two minutes before I was having a lazy, expansive orgasm, crying out loudly.

He gave me a smug grin, his head still down south. “How was that?”

“I think I needed that, thank you.” My body felt more relaxed, languid.

Jonathon shifted to move up and he paused over my belly to skim his lips over the bare skin. It wasn’t sexual, but sweet. “Hi, Baby,” he said.

Yeah, that was my heart melting. When he moved up alongside me, giving me a soft kiss, I felt more than could possibly be wise. Like serious emotion. Beyond crush and deep into like territory.

But then I remembered something and I stopped him from kissing me again. I had a horrible and stinky rotten thought. “Aren’t you dating someone?”

Oh, God, it couldn’t be that Jonathon would cheat. It just couldn’t be. I would literally die and become a celibate man-hater if I had just become a party to hurting some other girl.

“No. She dumped me yesterday.”

“Oh.” That was good. That was a relief. Yet I wasn’t sure how I felt about it exactly. I mean, thank God, he wasn’t a cheater. But then what did that mean? Was he upset? Was I just a substitute for this magically delicious chick I could never compete with?

The doorbell downstairs rang. I wondered if I should pull my pants up. I heard Tyler open the door and oh, shit, that was Nathan’s voice. Yes, I needed to pull my pants up. I scrambled to get them on, shoving Jonathon out of the way. “That is my ex-boyfriend downstairs,” I said urgently. “Oh, shit, f**k, damn, I do not want to see him.”

“Do you want me to tell him to go away?” Jonathon asked, looking neutral. He sat up, but he made no move to either push up his glasses or take his hand off my leg.