Page 72 of Free

“Don’t you want to know?”

“What time is it?”

I press him into the mattress as I reach over onto the bedside table and flick the light on my phone.

“Three.”

“Then no.”

He attempts to push me away, but I drop all of my weight onto his pelvis, hard enough to make him harumph and for the bed to bounce underneath us. As one, we glance to the side to ensure Julia doesn’t stir.

She does, barely, but only to hug the body pillow tighter and angle her body away, putting even more space between her and us. She’s all curves, her newly rounded ass, and hips on display. That blasted pillow, the one that took my spot, is almost obscene in the way it dips under her belly and rests between her knees and breasts.

The pregnancy glow isn’t relegated to daylight.

“If you wake her…” he threatens from deep in his throat, and yes, please. I like that.

In a choreographed dance, somehow now as natural as water, I lift, and he shuffles, and with a wiggle here or there, I’m settled between his spread thighs before he links his ankles over my ass.

“What do you want, J?” he sighs when I lower onto my elbows and slowly thrust along his brief-covered cock.

I don’t know why he still bothers to put clothes back on before we go to sleep. It’s such a waste of time when I’m always taking them right back off him again.

“I was wondering,” I whisper, dragging my lips along his scruff. “What are you doing in four to six weeks?”

He huffs and, in his sleepy, blissed out, beggy bottom way, links his arms around me too, so he’s twisted up like a pretzel.

“Probably you,” he mumbles.

Such a good answer!! It hurts my throat when I try to suppress my snort.

He’s not yet as hard as he could be, but if the way he arches and twirls his hips is any indication, he’s certainly enjoying himself. This isn’t really what I had in mind. I honestly just wanted to give him a heads-up about the name changes. I have no doubt that Remi will be over the moon with happiness, but Remi is and always will be him, and he doesn’t take surprises well.

But in that weird, trance-like hovering newlywed state we’ve been living in, any sort of close contact inevitably ends in debauchery of some kind.

“May I make a suggestion, then? You know. For plans in four to six weeks.”

“I’m tired, J.” Yet, he tightens his grip and begins searching out my lips, whining when I keep them just out of reach. “Get to the point.”

He arches beautifully underneath me when I bend to suck on his neck.

“The point?”

At the moment, I think the point is to get him off just like this. He keeps trying to up my pace, and every time I ignore his little huffs of impatience and the rough jab of his heel in my ass, he mewls in the neediest, fucking most addictive whine ever.

“Why did you wake me up you crazy ass white boy?”

Oh. That.

“Well.”

I give him what he’s been pouting for and dip my tongue into his mouth. I love kissing him like this. I take him apart slowly, piece by fucking piece. It’s so quiet in the apartment, and the cute little puffing sounds of Julia breathing three feet from us are drowned out in the slow seduction of our mouths.

“Jules gave me a packet from the lawyer this afternoon that I have to go get notarized and dropped off at the courthouse tomorrow. I was wondering if you wanted to come with me to have our names legally changed to Lancaster-Williams, or if you had something already planned?”

His eyes snap open, and his hips jerk so hard we lift from the bed.

“What?” he breathes.