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That’s an understatement. I touched Nia and utterly lost my head. I stopped thinking about anything except how fucking good she made me feel. And Becca was on the pill for years before she decided she wanted a baby. Neither one of us ever had another sexual partner, so I’ve never used a condom in my life. I didn’t pause long enough to realize how different everything would be with another woman.
Of course, when I think about it, that fact is so obvious I feel like a fool. But I try to keep calm and collected and hide my death grip on the towel as I wipe myself dry. After losing Becca and our baby in an instant, I can’t think about the possibility of another pregnancy.
I haven’t recovered from losing the last one.
Finally, I tuck my cock back in my pants and rearrange my shirt. Nia doesn’t move, just lies sprawled across the futon, breasts moving softly with each breath, still naked as she studies my expression.
“I should have said something sooner.”
Her face is so full of apology I can’t possibly think she allowed me to have sex with her unprotected on purpose. But it’s not okay. “I’m equally to blame. I should have asked.”
“I’m early in my cycle. It should be okay.”
But there’s no guarantee. That’s utterly fucking terrifying.
I swallow back my tension. “If you’re ready to go, I’ll walk you to your car.”
“Are you sure I can’t persuade you to come home with me? French toast in the morning…”
Her offer is tempting, and she tries to give me a flirty smile. But I see the uncertainty on her face. I’m probably a complete bastard for leaving her now, but my head is bubbling like a volcano. I’ve always been even-tempered, not prone to being swayed by any particular mood. The disquiet unsettling me now makes me wonder if somehow Nia has changed me.
“I can’t.” I also stifle a promise to take her up on the offer another time. I don’t know if or how Nia and I will make us work.
If you can’t deal and you break it off with her, then she becomes angry, disillusioned, and bitter, what then?
Nothing good.
“All right.” Now her voice sounds clipped, a little hurt, as she wraps her robe around her body and covers herself from nearly head to toe again.
“Nia, what happened tonight can’t change anything at work. No one can know.”
She looks away and crosses her arms over her chest. “Sure.”
I’ve hurt her. Son of a bitch. Whatever this is between us is barely ten minutes old, and I’ve already screwed up. Maybe I’m not wired for meaningful human interaction. Maybe the only woman who could ever understand me is cold and buried and gone forever.
“I’m sorry, but keeping what happened a secret makes sense—for both of us,” I murmur, then realize if I keep talking, I’ll only say more things that only upset her. “We’ll talk more on Monday, all right? I’ll see you then.”
“See you.”
As soon as Nia nods, I tell myself to turn around and leave. I shouldn’t linger or give her false hope that I might stay the night after all or give her any reason to think I’m romantically inclined. But I can’t make myself leave when she’s distressed, especially when everything that’s wrong is my fault.
Before I can tell myself not to, I take her by the shoulders, tug her to her feet, and pull her against me. Just like before, the minute I touch her, I don’t care whether being with her is right or wrong. I simply need. The yearning on her face says it’s the same for her.
She meets me halfway as I dip my head and kiss her slowly, tenderly, so unlike the way I assailed her mouth when I entered the room. It feels different to take my time, to savor her scent and flavor, to be kissing her not in passion but affection. But it doesn’t take long before my head swims, my heart thuds, and my cock goes stone hard.
Fuck, she’s potent, and I have a feeling that if I’m not careful, she could become a distraction. A weakness. An addiction.
Somehow, I manage to dredge up the will to stop enjoying her mouth, press a kiss to her forehead, and step back. “Bye.”
Chapter Four
Monday, November 6
* * *
“Morning. I brought donuts.” Sebastian tosses a box of a dozen on the conference table in my office and parks himself in a chair. “Dig in, and let’s roll through these numbers.”
It’s just after seven a.m. I came in early. I often do because there’s always plenty of work. But today was a no-brainer. Why stay home when sleep is elusive and productivity is nonexistent?
