It Starts with Us by Colleen Hoover

Every part of my body feels like it’s on fire when he slips two more
fingers into my underwear. Then, when his entire hand makes the move, I’m
a goner. I release a trembling breath and grip the sheet at my sides, arching
my back and my hips up and against his hand.
He brings his mouth to mine, but he doesn’t kiss me. He remains close to
my lips, using the movement of my hips and the sounds of my moans to
guide him toward the finish.
He’s extremely intuitive. It doesn’t take me long at all before I’m tensing
around his hand, pulling his neck down so that I can kiss him through the end
of it.
When it’s over, he slides his hand out of my panties but then cups me
there, leaving his hand over me while I recover. My chest is heaving as I try
to catch my breath.
Atlas is breathing heavily, too, but I need a minute to recover before I can
do anything about it.
“Lily.” Atlas kisses me gently on the cheek. “I think you…” He pauses, so
I open my eyes and look at him. He shifts his eyes to my breasts, and then
back at my face.
Then he pulls at his white shirt and looks down at it and I see there’s some
kind of stain on it.
Oh, shit.
I look down at my bra and it’s soaking wet. Oh my God. Breast milk.
Everywhere. I am such an idiot.
Atlas doesn’t seem at all fazed by it. He rolls off the bed and says, “I’ll
give you some privacy.”
I’m a little mortified that my bra is covered in breast milk, so I grab the
sheet and cover my chest with it before meeting Atlas at the foot of my bed.
It kind of killed the mood. “Are you leaving?”
“Of course not.” He kisses me and then leaves the room as if it’s
completely normal for a man to make out with a woman who is breastfeeding
a baby that isn’t even his. It has to be at least a little awkward for him, but he
covers it well.
I spend the next several minutes in the bathroom pumping, and then I take
a quick ten-second shower. I throw on an oversized T-shirt and some pajama
shorts before heading back into my living room.
Atlas is sitting on my couch, waiting patiently with his phone in his hand.
When he hears me enter the living room, he glances up at me and looks me