Once Upon A Half-Time: A Sports Romance - Sosie Frost Page 0,168

needed pampering unless that’s what I wanted to give. We had fucked against the poison ivy spanned tree, and I learned she could take a pounding.

And that she loved it.

I didn’t bother drying off. The heat surging through me should have turned the droplets to steam. I picked her up, and I tossed her onto the blankets.

She giggled.

I didn’t.

I wasn’t in the mood for fun or flirty or anything that wasn’t taking this woman hard, until she understood how much I needed her.

And she was ready. She opened her legs for me, holding me as I steadied over her waiting slit.

I didn’t warn her. She clutched at me and whispered her desire in hushed, desperate whispers.

I sunk into her—all the way, to the hilt, and I nearly lost it.

Her softness, that tight and wonderful milking, cascaded pleasure along my spine.

Mandy cried my name with such a breath of perfection and completeness I vowed I’d never stop fucking her. We’d stay together, locked in place, writhing in the absolute pleasure of the other.

Except she wanted more.

And so did I.

I withdrew to the head, watching as her beautiful expression crumbled in panic and loss. She begged me in unspoken words and choked gasps to stay inside her. I couldn’t leave a lady in misery. I thrust within her, driving into her core. She came, clutching at me and the bed and anything that could keep her hold on the world.

She could hold onto me from now on.

I wouldn’t let that ecstasy fade from her.

I gripped her hips, plunging inside her again and again to feed that clenching, unrelenting tightness from her constant orgasm. Mandy thrashed with a quaking wave of pleasure. She clawed me, her quiet mews transforming into a melody of grateful and beautiful moans. She surrendered, fell limp in my arms, and offered her body for any delight I could incite.

And I gave her everything.

Every thrust was meant to slam her breasts between us. Every fierce movement designed to earn her squeal. Every frantic breath I grunted fueled our shared passion. I stretched her. I took her. I fucked her.

I made love to her.

And her constant, unrelenting orgasm built my own. Harder. More intense. More meaningful than any other moment with any other woman in my life.

I gripped her close, fell over her to shield her with my body, and plunged as deeply as I could into that welcoming, sensual heat.

And I came. Again and again. I jetted inside her, filled her, and gave her everything that was me.

My whisper rasped, too harsh and desperate for how peacefully she rested in my arms. I didn’t know what to say. Hadn’t I proved everything I felt? “Christ…I love—”

“Wait.” Mandy’s fingers pressed against my lips. “Just…wait. Before you say it again. Before you even think it. I have to tell you something.”

She could silence me all she wanted, but nothing changed how my heart beat for her. I gave her a smile, pressing deeper inside of her. She shuddered, but her eyes welled with tears.

“Nate…I never wanted to hurt you. I wanted to tell you, but the timing…I couldn’t.”

“What are you talking about?”

Mandy pushed against my chest. I hated leaving her, but she shifted away, curling her legs under her and avoiding my touch.

“I have to tell you the truth.”

That didn’t sound good. “The truth?”

“I wished I hadn’t kept it from you.”

I tensed. Mandy brushed tears away neither of us wanted her to shed. She couldn’t look at me.

It didn’t matter. No matter what she said, what she thought, or what she feared, this woman was too good and innocent for secrets. Whatever it was, I could handle it.

I braced for anything.

“Nate, I’m pregnant.”

But I wasn’t ready for that.

19

Nate

Why was I still sitting in silence?

I should have said something.

Anything.

Mandy dressed in the quiet. I didn’t remember putting my jeans on. I hadn’t zipped them. I just sat on her couch.

I could have talked, but I didn’t know what I’d hear over my pounding heart.

Pregnant.

I didn’t expect it. I never thought of myself as a father. The possibility never crossed my mind.

I swallowed.

Pregnant.

A baby.

My baby.

With Mandy.

I rubbed my chin. “…How long?”

The question sounded too harsh. I probably should have asked it while holding her. These were the moments men held their women. When we kissed them. When we got excited and celebrated.

When we planned for something like this.

The shock numbed everything. Facts helped. Piecing together the puzzle calmed me down. I had to think as rationally as I could. No matter what, I