Page 42 of Married to the SEAL
Hero complex. Screw her.
That’s the problem, remember?
He ran a hand through his hair. There had to be another way to help her, though the visual of his first idea was forever burned in his brain. He pulled out his phone and went to his browser. You could find anything on the Internet.
A quick search turned up a video, and he watched it with the sound turned off. A woman was using her hand to get milk out of her breast.
This was not helping his erection go down. “I found a video on YouTube that might help.”
“Let me see it.”
He handed her the phone. She watched for a few minutes, then went back to the bathroom.
It seemed like she was gone forever. Finally, he knocked on the door. “Any luck?”
“Go away.”
“Is it working?”
“Leave me alone.”
He walked back to his bed, but instead of lying down, he began to pace. After a few minutes, the bathroom door opened.
She handed him his phone.
“Did it work?”
“No.”
“Are you sure you’re doing it right? ’Cause it looked like you have to squeeze—”
“Shut up, Matteo.”
He closed his mouth and spread out on his bed. For half an hour he considered how far he was willing to go to help her, always returning to his inability to stop anything sexual with her once they started.
“It’s not like a faucet you can just turn on,” she said. “There’s an emotional component. When I’m pumping, I try to think of my son and usually that’s enough. But I’m so frustrated right now I can’t relax. I’m worried about him, and I’m embarrassed about earlier, and I’m stressed about people wanting to kill us, and I’m worried my boobs might explode before we get the hell out of here tomorrow.”
“You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about.”
“Right. I threw myself at you and you pushed me away.”
“Because I want you, not because I don’t.”
“God, please don’t lie to me, Matteo.”
“I’m not lying.”
“Of course you are. I’m fat from the pregnancy and my boobs are swollen and leaky and sore and disgusting. I’m covered in stretch marks. I’m not exactly pinup material, so let’s not pretend.”
“You’re beautiful.”
“Right.”
He moved to her bed, sitting on the edge beside her. “You’re curvy in all the right places, just like a woman should be. And those swollen, leaky breasts of yours are pretty amazing. They take care of your son, and I, for one, can’t stop staring at them.”
“You watch me in the mirror.”
“Yes. I can’t stop.”
