Lie down
, his eyes commanded.
She did, her head aligning perfectly with her pillow. He stayed on his knees for a moment, staring at her with that same watchful expression. Then he crawled over her and lowered his body to hers.
She stopped breathing. "Well, this is different."
She'd been right about things changing between them. It wasn't just physical relief they sought from each other anymore. Maybe it never had been. His throat worked as he swallowed and lifted his questioning blue gaze to hers.
"What?" he rasped in a hoarse voice.
Willow looked down at their bodies they were about to join together. "It's the old-fashioned missionary position. We haven't tried it this way yet."
She could've sworn he breathed out a sigh of relief at her superficial answer. Then he sighed again when he entered her. But this was a different kind of relief.
When he was so deep inside her she swore he was touching her soul, he whispered in her ear. "Do you hear that?"
Willow opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling over his shoulder, straining to hear something. But the only thing that touched her ears was their labored breathing like pulsing, rhythmic beats of air filling the room. Her gaze slid to his.
His eyes glittered as he continued to stroke her. "We make music together."
Tears clogged her throat. Willow had to close her eyes. Damn it, he just had to go and say that, didn't he? Holding him close, she realized she was in love with the most stubborn, conceited, sexist man she'd ever known. And she couldn't be happier.
Seventeen
Raith couldn't seem to stop caressing her. But he knew there'd come a time when all that luscious naked skin would be forbidden to him. He was determined to enjoy it to the fullest while he still had the chance.
For once, Willow was quiet and seemed to have either fallen asleep or was just peacefully enjoying his touch. Usually, she liked to pillow talk afterward. Glad she didn't feel the need tonight, Raith decided he was a little too vulnerable at the moment. He'd put his all into loving her just now.
It left him shaken and exposed. Not wanting her to see his heart in his eyes, he sat up, keeping his back to her and decided to clean himself. But when he reached down to pull off the condom, he found a slimy mess.
Filling the air with a blue streak, he could only stare. Willow jerked upright behind him.
"What's wrong?" she asked, lifting up even more to look over his shoulder. He tried to turn and shield it from her, but she'd already seen the problem. "Wha—"
"The condom broke," he said and glanced over his shoulder to peer into her wide brown eyes.
"Oh," she said dumbly.
He shook his head and continued removing what was left. It looked like a balloon that had popped. He had to pick the slimy parts off in chunks. "What a freaking mess."
Behind him, Willow mused, "Guess you should've used your own condoms, huh?"
Raith stopped trying to pull pieces off himself and lifted his head.
She spread her hands in defense. "Hey, I bought them brand new today. How was I supposed to know?"
But that did nothing to console him. He picked up the box and turned it until he found what he was looking for. "Bought 'em today, huh? Is that why they expired two years ago?"
Willow blinked. "Expired?" Ripping the box from his hand, she stared at the date on the box for a second and then turned to give him an incredulous look. "Condoms come with an expiration date?"
Raith lifted a brow. "Are you serious?"
Willow frowned and shoved the box into his chest. "Well, how the hell was I supposed to know? I've never bought condoms before. That's the man's job. I saw the brand you use and picked it up. What were they doing selling expired condoms anyway?"
"How old are you again?" he couldn't help but ask.
Showing him her rigid back, she muttered, "Shut up."
An amused grin spread across his face. He probably would've laughed except he looked down and saw the broken prophylactic. That sobered him instantly.
"Jesus," he said, and finished pulling off the last chunk of condom.
Willow finally glanced back to watch him throw the remains in the trash. "What's the name of that morning-after pill?" she asked, slipping off the bed. "Plan B?"
Raith lifted his face, which rapidly drained of color. Oh, hell. It finally dawned on him what this meant. The condom broke. His little troops were inside her right now, marching a determined path in search of a nice ripe egg.
God in heaven. He couldn't breathe very well.
"You think that'll work?" he asked.
Willow shrugged. "If I'm already pregnant, no, it won't work. But it might stop my egg from dropping so I won't become fertile until after your semen dies."
He just stared at her, so sick over the idea of possibly getting her pregnant he couldn't comment.
She took in the look on his face and scowled. "Oh, calm down, Malloy." She turned to a calendar on the wall. "Don't worry so much. My most fertile time isn't for another..."
She put her finger on the calendar and counted out the days.
Raith came up beside her. When her finger paused on the next day, her face turned a pale white.
"Another couple hours," she admitted weakly and looked up at him like a frightened child seeking help.
"You've got to be kidding me!"
Willow mutely shook her head. Her eyes were large and her face completely void of color. She opened her mouth to say something, but no sound came out.
Suddenly, a multitude of images zipped through his head like a slideshow playing in fast forward. He could see himself easing onto a couch next to her and lifting the bottom of her shirt so he could try to span the swollen expanse with his palm. Then he saw her pale and sweating in a brightly lit hospital room, cursing him as she gritted and strained through a contraction. And then there was a baby and he was holding it, looking down in awe at the new life he'd helped to create. He could see the baby take her first steps, say her first word. And then he could see himself squeezing Willow's hand as they sat together in a hot auditorium, watching their child graduate high school.
In a microsecond, all those visions flashed through him. And the hell of it was, they felt kind of nice. Damned good, actually. There was a contented peacefulness to that life.
But then he blinked and reality slammed through him. God. What was he thinking? He'd make an awful father. And what about Willow? He'd tried marriage before and sucked at that too. No way could he be the kind of husband she deserved.
"What do we do?" she whispered, looking completely horrified.
Raith snapped, "Get the damn pill. Now."
Willow swallowed. "I... I... Don't I need a prescription to buy it?"
He sputtered, "How the hell should I know?"
Her eyes were wide and frightened as she stared at him. He wanted to pull her into a tight hug and comfort both of them. Yet he also wanted to turn tail and run for the hills.
Suddenly her eyes widened. She looked down. "I need to clean this stuff off." Spinning from him, she hurried into the bathroom. He stood there a moment after the door closed behind her, wishing there was something he could do. Thinking he'd probably repulse her if she came out and found him still undressed and was reminded of what had just happened, he quickly pulled his clothes on. His stomach turned queasier by the second and he tried to swallow down the nausea, but it rose up his throat with each gulp.
She'd looked so appalled by the idea of carrying his baby. He wasn't ready for a kid either, but it stung a little to know she obviously hadn't experienced the same split-second vision he had.
Don't think about it, he commanded himself. As soon as she was out of the shower, they'd calmly talk this through. Everything would be okay.
But the moment she opened the door and saw him sitting there, fully clothed and keys in hand, she paused in drying her hair to narrow her eyes.
~ * ~
When Willow opened the bathroom door, wearing nothing but a robe and squeezing water out of her hair with a towel, Raith jerked his head up. He had dressed and was sitting on her bed, resting his elbows on his knees, as if he was deep in thought. But his knee kept jiggling as if he couldn't wait to get the hell out of there. The ass even had his shoes on.
Willow stopped dead in the doorway, unable to take her eyes off the keys in his hand.
"What? Leaving so soon?" Her bitter tone went far to hide the pain rattling around in her chest. How could he leave at a time like this?
His eyes flashed as he pushed to his feet. "Well, I'm certainly not in the mood to go another round."
Willow's back went stiff and her shoulders straightened. In her
coolest voice, she answered, "Have a nice night then."
He seethed for a moment, his jaw hard and his eyes flashing. Then he spun away from her and charged toward the exit, muttering expletives under his breath. But he only made it to the doorway before he halted. Running his hands through his hair, he whirled back.
"Just let me know one way or the other, okay?"
Instead of plopping down and bawling as she wanted to, Willow scoffed. "What? You want to play daddy if there's a kid?"
His teeth set. "I suppose you think I'd just ignore the fact I had a child out there if something happened."
She lifted her nose snootily. "I really don't know what you'd do. I haven't exactly seen you caring for a lot of babies in the past few—"
"Just stop. Don't be a smart ass for once in your life."
"Fine," Willow snapped, blinking back the tears that were going to come anyway. "I'll let you know." She folded her arms over her chest, feeling miserable and bitter and pissed he was still standing there watching her have a mini breakdown. He would probably just laugh at her if she let him see her cry.
He sighed. "Look." His voice was calm as if he was trying to restore some order to the crazy situation. "This has never happened to me before. I don't know what to think. I just... Hell, we didn't even like each other before we started fooling around. And sex isn't a real good basis on which to raise a child."
"You think I don't know that?" Willow snapped. "A baby should have—" She stopped suddenly and shook her head. "Why are we even talking about this? We don't even know if I'm pregnant or not."
"From the little schedule you've got going on," he motioned toward her wall calendar, "it sounds like we're already guaranteed you are."
She threw him a dirty look. "Schedule?" she repeated his odd terminology. "God, Malloy. You make it sound like I planned this to happen."
He snorted. "I wouldn't put it past you."
Willow's mouth fell open. "Excuse me? What the hell does that mean?"
He lifted his eyes but just as quickly looked away. "It means... Jesus, I don't know. Haven't you ever heard the saying, 'never trust something that bleeds for seven days and doesn't die?' How am I supposed to trust anything you say?"
Unable to believe he'd just said such a thing aloud, she could only gape as he continued, "Maybe you wanted more... more from us." He shrugged. "I've never taken you out anywhere. Never... done anything to, you know, move this relationship past the bedroom."
Willow's hands balled into fists. She couldn't remember ever being this angry before. A white hot steam boiled in her stomach. For once in her life, she thought she might actually be capable of murder. "If I was really concerned about you taking me out on a freaking date I would've said, 'Hey, dumb-ass, take me to dinner.' I certainly wouldn't have planned to trap you like this because I'm in no way ready to be a parent myself. What in God's name would I do with a kid?" She glared at Raith.
"I..." At a loss for words, he just stared at her.
Still boiling mad, she continued to rail. "And relationship?" she sneered the word. "What relationship? This is just sex. We're not boyfriend and girlfriend. Lord, we're not even friends."
His cold blue gaze drilled into hers as he softly answered, "No, we're not, are we?"
Though he gave no reason for her to believe so, she felt as if she'd struck a nerve, as if she'd actually hurt his feelings, which hadn't been her intent at all. She had merely been lashing out as a form of self-defense, taking a shot at him before he could take another at her.
She looked away. "Would you please just go?" Her teeth gnashed together and she hoped he hadn't heard the slight crack in her voice.
Because she couldn't look at him, she had no idea what kind of expression filled his features. And he didn't speak. All she could hear were his footsteps as he walked out the door.
Willow collapsed on the edge of her bed and wrapped her arms around her waist. Oh, God. Was there a baby in there? She'd never imagined herself as a mother. Could she be a good mother? She didn't think she could handle messing up some poor kid's life.
Why had Malloy left her to deal with this by herself?
Hair still wet, body wrapped in her fuzzy green robe, Willow lay down on the mattress and stared at the wall, wondering how she'd let this all happen. Malloy had struck like a tornado, suddenly exploding into her life, twisting everything around and then boom, he was gone, and her world was a mess.