Skylar stroked my hair gently, allowing me to bury my face in her chest. Clothed though it was, the gentle slope of her breast tucked against my face brought a sort of comfort that I would not have given up for all the money in the world. Perhaps it was some sort of Freudian impulse, but the position made my breaths slow until they were no longer ripping themselves in and out of my chest as though they were builders smashing through drywall.
"Sorry," I muttered, feeling thoroughly embarrassed. She was the one who was up the duff. Who was I to be the one having the freak out about the girls' possibly impending pregnancies? Since it had been my traitorous d**k that had wrought all this havoc, I should have been the one talking to Jack or the chieftain and asking them about our options. Aft
