Текст книги "Lost and Found"

Автор книги: Kelly Jamieson

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Chapter Twenty-One

Krissa led the way, wet and dripping, through the dark house and into the bedroom, all three of them naked. “I might fall sleep,” she warned the two men as she handed out towels. Her body felt weak and lethargic; her mind fuzzy.

To her surprise, Nate accepted the towel from her, shook it out and started drying her off. He rubbed her hair between two towel-covered hands, dried her shoulders and throat, then her chest, lingering on her breasts. Derek took a cue from him, and stepped behind her to dry her back.

Having two men attending to her pleasure was so exquisite she couldn’t believe this was happening. Four male hands gently toweled her body dry, then lifted her onto the bed. She was thankful for that because she wasn’t sure if she was able to move. The heat of the hot tub and the shattering orgasm had left her limp and lazy.

When Derek and Nate had dried off, they climbed into bed with her, into what was becoming a usual pattern of Derek on her right and Nate on her left. She knew she needed to look after them, but at that moment she couldn’t move. Maybe if they just let her sleep for a few minutes…

But they had no intention of letting her sleep, apparently. They did, however, seem to understand her languor and once again, two mouths and four hands stroked and kissed and licked her everywhere. She floated on a cloud of sensual bliss. At first she reveled in the carnal sensation, aware of nothing but her sense of touch as hands petted her, mouths brushed her and tongues slid over her. But when two mouths sucked on her nipples at the same time, her body tightened and arched. Mouths tugged, teeth nipped, and sharp little sensations flashed from nipples to quivering clit. Thick, hot liquid arousal pooled between her legs, fever heated her skin. Need built inside her, coiling, to a tight, sharp point.

Her clit pulsed in time with her heartbeat and she parted her legs as hands slid there. She heard a distant moan and then realized it was hers. The panting breaths and ragged moans belonged to the men.

She wanted to open her eyes and look at them, but her lids were too heavy. She licked her lips, turned her head from side to side on the pillow as her entire body became one hot glow of arousal.

Sliding caresses between her legs, fingertips and then, oh God, a tongue licking, lapping at her swollen flesh. She parted her legs wider as fingers probed, slid into her and out, glided wetly around, back inside. Then wet fingers skimmed lower, to the puckered rim of her anus. She gasped and jerked a little at that unfamiliar touch. She struggled to open her eyes, but kisses brushed her lids closed.

“It’s okay, honey.” Derek. He kissed her again, little feathery kisses all over her face. Were those his fingers there? “I know we’ve never done this…but tonight…we both want to fuck you at the same time.”

Desire clamped down hard on her womb at his words. Fingers gently stroked and probed. She moaned. “I don’t know…”

“We’ll take it slow,” Derek assured her in a whisper in her ear. Hands cupped her breasts, tugged her nipples. She writhed as sensation surged through her bloodstream. “Right, Nate?”

“Right.” His word was a whisper against her pussy and she clenched inside. He kissed her clit, a gentle, suckling kiss and she pulsed against his mouth.

The fingers—whose were they?—trailed back up to her pussy, drew up moisture and slid back down, and this time one finger penetrated her ass. She cried out, but it wasn’t unpleasant—just unfamiliar. The finger stilled, clamped by the ring of muscle there, pulsing, holding it and she gasped. Her pussy throbbed with need and excitement.

The finger moved, sliding in just a little deeper, withdrawing. In. Out. Krissa moaned, the sensation adding to the sensual overload. Dear God, were they going to fuck her there? She reached out, found a big, male body, searched around until she found an arm and squeezed. Dragging her eyes open, she realized she clutched Nate’s forearm. It was the fingers of his other hand there in that most intimate of places, where no man had ever touched her.

“Okay?” he whispered.

She blinked, not even able to answer, not sure what to say. She wanted to ask them to stop, but she wanted to feel more…to see what it was like, to know…Nate’s finger continued to fuck her ass gently, in and out. Derek played with the tight tips of her breasts, pinching them into sharp aching points.

She needed more. More.

“Gonna need that bottle of lube,” Nate murmured to Derek, who released her nipples and reached into the drawer of the night stand.

Her pussy clenched hard, her sensitized nerve endings aware of every brush of their bodies against her, acutely aware of Nate’s gently thrusting finger, the brush of his mouth across her stomach.

“Think you can do this?” he asked her, his finger sliding slowly out. To her own shock, she wanted it back there. She needed to be filled up, ached with an empty pang.

“I don’t know.” She met his eyes, hers still heavy. Her body burned, tension coiled inside her hard and tight. “I want to. I want to do it.”

She didn’t know how this would work or who would do what to her, but it didn’t matter. At that moment all that mattered was slaking the need bubbling inside her, hot and violent.

Derek lay his back beside her, Nate moved aside and they helped her roll on top of Derek. She tucked her face into his neck, breathed in the scent of him. She adjusted herself over him. “Sit up, honey,” he whispered and with difficulty she levered herself up, hands on his chest, and straddled him. His cock rose in front of her, hard and dark. Taking him in her hand she lifted over him and with a small cry of relief she lowered herself onto him. Down, down, until their bodies met and he was all the way in. She felt his cock twitch and lengthen inside her and she tightened around him. “Oh, yeah,” he groaned. He tugged her hands, so she lay down stretched out over him, and thrust up into her once.

She felt Nate move on the bed, behind her. His hands slid over her hips and her ass, gentle, reassuring, as he nudged his way up to her. His cock flexed against her and she sucked in a breath.

She heard the pop of the bottle of lube as he opened the lid, waited as he poured some out, the snap of it shutting, then the thud of the bottle hitting the carpet. Slick wet sounds reached her ears as Nate oiled his cock and every little muscle inside her quivered in anticipation. Nerve endings jumped as he separated the cheeks of her ass, probed at her entrance with the head of his cock, hot and slippery.

She couldn’t breathe, gave a choked gasp, her heart thudding against her ribs. She pressed her face into the curve where Derek’s neck met his shoulder, sank her teeth into her bottom lip. When Nate pushed into her, sensation surged through her body, a delicious pain, a burning pleasure.

A low sound tore from her throat. Derek’s hands swept up and down her back. He lay still beneath her, waiting until Nate was ready. “Relax,” Nate murmured, his hands on her bottom, gentle and warm. He pushed in a little further, and the burning intensified.

“Oh! Oh, God.”

They both continued to stroke her, pausing, and she throbbed around both of them. Her mind spun away from her, her world limited to the sensations shimmering over her, radiating from the core of her to her toes, her fingers, her scalp.

“Don’t tighten around me,” Nate whispered, one gentle hand on her back. “Bear down…a little. Like you’re pushing me out.”

She tried to focus, tried to control the out-of-control muscles of her body. “That’s it,” he crooned and she felt him slide in deeper. “Perfect…ah Krissa, your ass is sweet. So tight and hot…”

Pleasure spiked in her again. This was unbelievable. Hot wicked tingles flashed over every nerve ending, making her gasp, making her tremble. She was full…so full, two cocks inside her touching her so deep, stretching her, burning her. It was exquisite, it was mind-shattering, it was darkly, deliciously erotic.

They moved in her, moving in unison, and the pull and drag of their flesh on her sent her spinning to the stars. When Nate reached around between her and Derek’s body and found her clit, she exploded.

She wasn’t sure but she thought she might have screamed as the orgasm ripped through her. She saw sparkling lights, her mind disintegrated, a sweet pleasure she’d never known sliding over her in a deluge of sublime delight. She vaguely heard Nate’s hoarse shout, felt him grasp her hips tighter as he held her ass against him. She felt him spasm inside her, flood her ass with hot semen and thinking of that undid her again, and shockingly she came again in a smaller, tighter orgasm. The thought flitted through her spinning mind that she wished she could see Nate, that she hoped this felt special for him, too. With guttural gasps, he gradually relaxed his grip on her, and then Derek thrust into her harder, faster, too.

“Oh, Krissa, I’m coming, too,” he groaned, He grabbed her hair, turned her head so he could kiss her and their mouths met and held as he exploded inside her in hot hard bursts.

They both stayed inside her for long moments, Nate behind her, filling her behind, Derek below her filling her pussy, the exquisite fullness so incredibly satisfying. Their heavy breathing was audible in the dark bedroom. Derek’s arms stayed tight around her, Nate’s hand stroked slickly over her back, damp with perspiration. She tried to fill her lungs with oxygen, not sure if she would ever be the same again.

Two men had just fucked her at the same time. And she’d loved it. Her heart squeezed so hard she gasped.

The next morning, when Nate was in the shower, Derek rolled toward Krissa and leaned over her. “When I go to work early, you and Nate stay in bed together.”

“Yes.” She gazed up at him, put her hands on his warm chest.

“Do you have sex when I’m not here?”

She moved her head side to side on the pillow, holding his gaze. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because…I don’t know. We haven’t talked about it.”

“You want to.”

She kept her face expressionless, not knowing what had prompted this conversation. “Derek…we won’t have sex without you. This is your baby, too.”

“Krissa. Last night wasn’t about making a baby.”

She blinked slowly. “No. I guess not.”

He stared at her for a long moment, then nodded. “You can do anything else—but no fucking. Unless I’m here.”

She rebelled at him telling her what to do. She and Nate had never done it without Derek around, and had no intention of ever doing it. Despite the heat and desire that often flared between them, they’d never acted on it when Derek wasn’t around. It was as if they both understood it, didn’t want to push it past what it was into something else. But for Derek to tell her not to, made her want to argue with him.

But she nodded her agreement. “Of course,” she whispered.

After that, the three of them slept together every night. They didn’t have sex every night—although Krissa felt so sensitized and aroused, she could have—but they did have sex, even when it wasn’t for the purpose of conception. Sometimes all three of them made love; other times they took turns, the watching almost as hot as the doing.

“We did a bad thing the other night.”

Both men looked up at Krissa across the dinner table, looked at each other, then back at her. It had been a week since their first night together.

“Uh…what’s that, babe?” Derek asked.

“We went in the hot tub.” She bit her lip. “The heat can lower sperm count temporarily.”

“But that was just after…” Nate stopped.

“I know. So not a big deal for you. But it can also increase the risk of miscarriage. If I’m pregnant, I shouldn’t have gone in there. I wasn’t thinking!” When she’d seen this piece of information on the internet earlier, her insides had twisted into tight knots. She’d known that! Why hadn’t she thought about that? Apparently, they’d gotten her so aroused, she hadn’t been thinking.

“It’ll be okay, bunny.” Nate’s reassuring words didn’t make her feel much better.

“There are tests that can tell you if you’re pregnant six to eight days after conception,” she continued.

“You want to know already?” Nate asked the question, then laughed. “Of course you do, little Miss Impatient.”

“I do want to know, of course I do. I’m worried, now. But…I’m afraid, too. I almost feel like it’s better to just wait…and see.” She poked at the rice on her plate.

“And that would be when…?” Once again, Nate seemed endearingly uncomfortable talking about Krissa’s female schedule.

“Another week.”

“You can wait that long, Krissa,” Derek said. He cut a piece of chicken.

“Yes. I can.” She lowered her gaze to her plate. Had she been hoping they’d talk her into trying the test, as anxious as she was to find out if she was pregnant?

“We really need to have a talk,” Nate said, setting his cutlery on his plate. “I know the clinic doesn’t exactly have guidelines for this type of thing, but it’s basically the same as a directed donation—we need to have some legal agreements in place.”

Krissa nibbled her bottom lip. “I hate to think that we need to do that…but yeah, you’re right.”

“We’re friends and we trust each other, and we all know why we’re doing this,” Nate continued. “But things can happen…”

“Like what?” Derek frowned.

“Like what if one day I decided I wanted to claim the child as my own?”

“Why would you do that?”

Nate shrugged, picked up his water glass. “I don’t know why I would. That was just an example. Something like that could really screw things up. I know we all agree right now on how this is going to work, but things change…I just think to protect us all and to protect our friendship, we should maybe have a lawyer draw up an agreement.”

Krissa felt heavy. “I hate that.”

“I know.” Nate’s eyes met hers. “But you agree, don’t you?”

She nodded. “Sure. How about we do that once we know I’m pregnant? If I’m not, it’s moot. Right?”

She had to be pregnant! God. The number of times they’d had sex—more than once in a night, three nights in a row and at the exact right time of the month—it had to happen. Her hands curled into fists in her lap.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The next morning, Krissa vaguely heard Derek leave for work, and buried her face into her pillow to get her extra hour of sleep. But she didn’t go back to sleep. As she gradually became more and more awake, she grew acutely aware of Nate’s big body next to her, radiating heat, all sleek tanned skin and muscle.

She wanted to touch him.

She touched herself instead.

She slid her hands over her breasts, over soft nipples, brushed her palms over them and felt them harden. An ache between her legs grew stronger and she parted her thighs, trailed her hand down over her tummy. Her fingers played in the curls there briefly, then she slipped her fingers into her throbbing folds. She closed her eyes, bit her lip, pushed a finger into the wetness. Oh, God. She held in a moan.

The thing about sex was, the more you had it, the more you wanted it. She and Derek had planned their sex for so long, timed it carefully around cycles and testing, wanting to preserve sperm, wanting to ensure conception. She’d had more sex in the last week than she and Derek had had alone in the last six months. Well, that might be exaggerating—but not much.

Now she wanted it all the time. Thoughts of sex intruded on her work. Made her warm and wet while she was walking through the grocery store. Made her want to masturbate when Nate was lying right beside her and could wake up at any moment.

She rubbed her finger over her clit, found the spot, moved her hips in the rhythm that always worked for her—and came, in an explosive, tight orgasm that she had to hold inside her. When the spasms subsided she slowly drew her hand away and stretched her legs out, trying not to gasp for breath.

The she turned her head to glance at Nate and found him lying there—watching her.

Heat crawled up her face. “Uh…”

“Krissa.” His voice was thick and strained.

“What?”

“I…”

She saw the erection lifting the duvet. Oh, God. She’d wanted to touch him before, now she couldn’t stop herself. She reached for him under the bed clothes and he rolled toward her, eyes closed, mouth a grim line of near-pain. She stroked his hard cock, measured the length of it, tested the weight of his testicles, drawn up tight against the base of his shaft. She loved his balls, the firmness and fullness of them. She gave a gentle squeeze and he let out a long groan.

She ran her hand over the head of his penis, down again, wishing for lube.

“We can’t…”

“It’s okay.” She moved closer, adjusted her position, pushed back the duvet so she could see him. His smooth bronze chest gleamed in the faint early morning light. Dark stubble shadowed his lean cheeks. He pressed his lips together. She bent over him, kissed between his nipples, tasted him, inhaled the warm male scent of him, the body wash he used, his natural scent filling her nostrils. She wanted to eat him up.

“Krissa…”

She kissed his stomach, felt the muscles quiver. Her tongue lapped at him, dipped into his navel and he sucked in a sharp breath.

“It’s okay,” she said again. “Derek knows.”

“Fuck. Knows what?”

“He knows…” her voice drifted off as her mouth feathered over the wiry curls between his thighs. She lifted her head. “He asked if we had sex when he’s not here. I told him no.” She stroked his cock again, ran her thumb over the wet tip. “He said we could do anything except actually fuck when he’s not here. So this…” She dipped her head and laid a kiss on the head of his cock. “Is okay. And this…” She opened her mouth and took him in. His hands went to her hair, tangled and tugged, just how she loved, and she melted and sank down onto him, swallowed him deep, sucked and licked. He tasted good, salty and tangy. He felt good—thick and hard, veins pulsing. He was huge and powerful and…potent. Intensely masculine and virile.

She moaned as she sucked on him.

“Christ, Krissa. That feels so damn good.”

She hummed her agreement and he groaned, dug his fingers deeper against her scalp. Pleasure edged on pain. She curled her fingers around his balls, traced a finger back behind them, making him jerk beneath her.

“Your mouth is hot,” he groaned, head turning on the bed. She drew her tongue up, swirled around the crown, lifted her head to study him. Beautiful. His cock was beautiful. Throbbing crimson and gleaming wet. But not wet enough. She opened her mouth and let saliva drop out, falling in a slow, lush trail to trickle down over him. “Fuck.” He yanked so hard on her hair she whimpered. “Sorry, sorry.”

“I like it,” she confessed and lifted her head to meet his eyes. A connection zinged between them. He tugged again and her eyelids drifted shut. She lowered her head, again dribbled saliva onto his cock, then spread it around with her hands in firm, long pulls.

“God, that’s good.”

She took him in her mouth again, hot and delicious and silky against her tongue. When her teeth grazed the rim, he twitched and moaned. “Oh, yeah.” She realized then that he liked that. Some guys were afraid of teeth…others liked that harder touch. Experimentally, she let her teeth scrape his flesh again. “Yesss.” His hands held her head, pulled her toward him and she slid up and down, then stopped, closed her teeth around his shaft and gently…ever so gently…bit.

His body tightened, almost lifted off the bed. “Jesus, Krissa…I’m coming. Lift up…” He yanked on her hair, almost savagely, trying to pull her off his cock, but she wasn’t going to let go of him. She loved the feel of a man coming in her mouth, the intimacy of it, the connection. He spurted down her throat, so far down she couldn’t taste him, and she pulled back, opened her mouth and held his cock so he came onto her tongue. She sucked on him, then licked him tenderly when he’d finished jerking into her mouth, holding his balls.

She crawled up his body then, lay down on top of him, tucked her head into the curve where his neck met his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, stroked her back and her butt while his heavy breathing slowed.

The door bell woke them.

Vaguely, Nate was aware it had already rung a couple of times but he’d tried to block it out. As he gradually rose toward consciousness, he realized where and when and who…Krissa and him, in bed, at ten o’clock in the morning. Jesus Christ.

Who was at the door?

“Krissa.” He gave her a little shake, her body wrapped around him, and mumbled. “Someone’s at the door.”

“Mmmm?” She stirred against him and the soft fullness of her breasts against his chest made him harden again. Then her eyes flew open. “The door? Who…”

“I don’t know.”

She rolled off him and out of bed, grabbing a robe as she staggered across the bedroom to the door. She shoved her arms into it and wrapped it around her. The thin silk of the robe did little to hide her body, and Nate followed behind, not wanting her to open the door to a stranger while clad so scantily. He scooped up his boxers as he went, hopping into them one leg at a time as he tried to keep up.

But Krissa was already at the door, had peeked through the sidelight. “Oh, God. Mom.” She flipped the deadbolt, and yanked open the door.

“Krissa. You’re not even dressed.”

“Oh, God, Mom, I forgot we were supposed to go out this morning.”

Krissa’s mother stepped into the foyer, the bright morning sunlight illuminating the entrance so that all Nate could see was a slim silhouette, short dark hair. He stopped abruptly.

Krissa’s mother looked up and saw him.

Her mouth dropped open. Snapped shut. Her gaze swiveled back to Krissa. She blinked.

Krissa turned and saw Nate, standing there in his boxers. He froze under the scrutiny of the two women. Shit.

“Uh…” Krissa tightened the belt of her robe. The excruciating silence dragged out. “Mom, do you remember Nate? Derek’s friend?”

Lizbeth Elston seemed to pale, and the impeccable blusher she’d applied to her cheeks stood out starkly pink. Her lips pressed together and her gaze went back and forth between Krissa and Nate while she apparently leaped to some conclusions. Then her cheeks flushed.

And goddammit, her conclusions were right. Jesus. Nate thrust a hand into his hair. The light from the open door was searing his eyeballs and he dragged his hand over them, shielding them. “Uh, sorry,” he muttered. “The light…” And he turned and went back upstairs, cringing, feeling the watchful eyes of Krissa and her mother.

His glasses were in Krissa and Derek’s room. He wanted to stay there. Maybe he could shower in their bathroom, hide there forever. Or at least until Mrs. Elston had left.

He stood there, glasses in his hand, blinking at the moisture the sun had brought to the corners of his eyes, hearing their murmured voices. What were they saying?

Well. This was awkward.

Krissa’d been very open to this whole weird situation, but having to explain it to her mother was a whole other issue. His lips twitched and dammit if laughter didn’t bubble up inside him. It was like high school, getting caught making out with your girlfriend when your parents came home early. For God’s sake, they were adults. Their sex lives and um…partners were their own business. Right?

But there was always that feeling of being a child, the parental oversight that could make you cringe with guilt and anxiety, no matter how old you were.

He did shower in their bathroom, found the clothes he’d discarded last night and dressed. He had to face them some time. When he emerged from the bedroom, he found the two women in the kitchen, Krissa pouring coffee for them both. She must have returned to the bedroom while he showered, because she was dressed in a pair of jeans that ended just above the ankle and a floaty green top that matched her eyes. Her long dark hair curled around her shoulders, shiny as usual, just brushed. Her eyes met his and they shared a faint smile.

“Coffee?” She held up a mug.

“Thanks.”

“Mom and I are going shopping and then out for lunch,” she told him. “I completely forgot.”

He nodded. “That’s nice.”

Another awkward silence, and then Krissa said, “Well we should go then.” And she and her mother left.

A week later, Krissa woke up to an ache in her low back. She’d become so attuned to every nuance of her body’s reproductive cycle, she knew immediately what that meant. She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Derek had left for work and Nate slept beside her.

She pressed a hand to her abdomen. Was she feeling the first twinges of cramps? Maybe she was imagining it?

She climbed carefully out of bed so as not to disturb Nate, and went into the bathroom. When she wiped between her legs with toilet paper it came away streaked with red.

She stared at the evidence that she was not pregnant. Again. With an aching throat and stinging eyes, she pulled the package of tampons out of the cupboard.

She showered quickly, left her wet hair hanging around her shoulders, returned to the dim bedroom to find some clothes. When she was dressed in a pair of knee-length shorts and a long-sleeved T, she went to the kitchen to make coffee.

She stared sightlessly out the kitchen window as the coffee brewed. Her chest ached and she pressed a hand between her breasts. How could this be? It had been perfect timing, and they’d done it so many times. She’d been positive that this time she was going to be pregnant.

She poured coffee into a stainless steel travel mug, popped the lid on it, and went outside. Feeling heavy and tired, her tummy now definitely cramping, she descended to the beach and walked along the shore.

The ocean air teased her hair, cooled the tears running down her cheeks. Seagulls squawked their human-sounding cry, like a crying baby, swooping through the clear blue sky, wings stretched out, pure white illuminated by the sun against brilliant blue.

She found her rock, her favorite place to sit and think. She sat cross-legged, mug cupped in two hands, sipped the steaming brew, and let the tears come. Every rolling breaker brought more misery, more sobs, until she ran out of tears and felt exhausted. She swiped at her nose with a tissue she found in her shorts pocket, let the tears dry on her face, as salty and stiff as sea water.

Eventually the rhythmic rolling of waves onto shore calmed her and lulled her back to steadiness.

She turned her head and spotted someone else walking on the beach toward her. He was still far away, but she easily recognized Nate from the way he moved, his long athletic strides. There wasn’t going to be any way to hide her misery, as her nose must be scarlet and she could feel her eyes were puffy. She blew out a long breath, stared back out at the vast expanse of blue ocean and waited ’til he got there.

“Hey.” He stepped over and around the rocks strewn around her and stood before her. “You’re sitting on my rock.”

She lifted her face to him and pasted on a smile. “Your rock? This is my rock.”

He immediately frowned as he took in her face. “What’s wrong?” He dropped to a squat before her, his eyes intent and questioning.

She sighed. “I got my period.”

He blinked. “Oh.” Then, “Well, shit.”

“Yeah.” Afraid tears were going to start again, she blinked rapidly. “This is where I always come when I need to think about stuff.”

“Ah. I’m sorry, Krissa.”

She nodded, shifted over. “There’s probably room for you, too.”

“Do you want to be alone?”

“No, it’s okay.” He sat beside her, his big body pressed to her side as they shared the rock, gazing out to sea.

“It’s so huge,” she commented. “It’s like it goes on forever—boundless.”

“Mmm. Infinity.”

He slid his arm around her waist and she snuggled closer into him. The warmth and strength of his embrace comforted her like nothing else.

“I feel responsible,” he said.

She tipped her head to look up at him. “For what?”

“For not getting you pregnant.” He rubbed his face.

“Don’t,” she said, putting a hand on his chest. “We’ve been through this so many times. Sometimes there are no reasons for why it doesn’t happen.”

“Yeah.”

“Sometimes I think if conception is so difficult, it truly is a miracle every time a life is created.”

“People take it for granted.”

“Oh, yeah! Do they ever.” She shrugged. “This time, I think it hurt even more because I was so sure…every other time, at least for the last year, I was getting to the point where I almost would have been more surprised if I was pregnant. The hope was definitely wearing out. But this time…” She couldn’t help the little sniffle. “I was positive it was going to work.”

“Maybe there’s something wrong with me, too.”

She huffed out a little laugh. “I guess since you’ve never tried to get someone pregnant before, you wouldn’t know, but it’s not likely.”

He shifted beside her and his body tensed. He said nothing.

“Really, Nate, don’t worry. We’ll just try again next month.”

He again remained silent, staring out at the ocean.

“What?”

“I don’t know how long I’ll stay here,” he said, voice so low she almost couldn’t hear him.

“But…” She wanted to insist he stay, but then remembered he was only there to recuperate from his own illness. She couldn’t make him stay for her own selfish reasons. She fought to breath air into her constricted lungs.

“I can stay another few weeks,” he said, as if knowing her thoughts. “My eyes don’t seem to be getting better, but I can’t mooch off you guys forever. At some point I’ll have to make some decisions…what to do with my life.”

“Oh, Nate.” Her heart squeezed and she turned into him. His other arm came around her and the coffee mug thunked to the sand. She pressed her face against his chest, loving the feel of him, the smell of him. “Your eyes will still get better, I know it.”

But if they did, he would leave.