Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 50872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
She moans and beats me to it as she pulls her hips back and then slams them forward. With my hands at her hips, I thrust in and out of her. She’s untamed as she rolls her hips in circles then front to back, but I’m steady as I wait for her to find what works for her.
When her pussy starts to squeeze me and my cock feels like it’s in a vise, I press my finger to her swollen clit and strum it back and forth over and over.
Her moans get louder. Her pussy gets wetter, and her thrusts get erratic. It’s almost too much.
“Yes, yes, don’t stop. Yes,” she begs as her climax takes her over the edge. I race with her, shooting my release inside her, claiming her as mine.
We’re both breathless, but I can’t let her go. I roll to my back, pulling her across my body. We’re still joined, and I wish I could stay in this moment forever.
Shoving her damp hair from her face, I look into her eyes. I’m searching for any kind of regret, but I don’t see any. “You okay?”
She nods with a big smile on her face. “Do we get to do that again?”
I can’t help it. I wasn’t expecting that at all. I laugh out loud. “Baby, we can do that any time you want.”
She rests her head on my chest, and I lay my head back on the pillow. Only a few minutes go by, and I hear her mumble something. I’m almost positive she says “forever,” but I convince myself that I’m hearing things.
I kiss her forehead and let myself imagine a future where I have the one thing I’ve always wanted. It’s almost too good.
Chapter 21
Ally
My phone rings, and a smile forms on my face. Of course, I think it’s Austin. He had to go into the plant this morning, but he’s already called a few times. He’ll have some excuse of why he’s calling, but we’ll both know it’s just because he’s wanting to make sure I’m resting.
“Hello.”
“Ally.”
I pull the phone from my ear and look at it. That’s not Austin, and my stomach rolls knowing who’s on the other end of the line. My voice is hard. “What do you want?”
“I thought we should talk.”
I put one hand on the kitchen counter and lean on it. The happiness and joy I felt just moments ago is gone now. “We did talk, and you said plenty. Actually, I don’t think we have anything else to talk about.”
He raises his voice and says in a rush, “I want to talk about the baby. My baby. I have rights, Alison.”
Every muscle in my body reacts, and my heart springs to battle. “We talked about this, and you said you don’t want anything to do with the baby. You… you said you weren’t even sure the baby is yours.”
“So it’s not mine.”
I grit my teeth. “You are the biological father.”
“Okay, then, I’m in town. Let’s meet. Where are you at? I’ll come there.”
“No!” I say quickly. “I’ll meet you in town at the Whistler.”
We say our goodbyes, and I pace back and forth across Austin’s living room. My first thought is to call Austin. He’d want to know, and I also want to talk to him about this. But he’s barely gone into work at all since I’ve been here, and I know if I call him, he’s going to come straight home.
I grab my purse and drive into town. My mind is going a hundred miles a minute. I know nothing good is going to come of this, but I have to at least try. Since the first time I told him I was pregnant and he refused any responsibility, I’ve thought about asking him to give up his rights to my child. That’s what is pushing me to drive across town.
Because it’s the middle of the day, I’m able to park right in front of the Whiskey Whistler. Taking a deep breath, I pull open the door to my car, put a protective hand over my belly, and make my way inside. I look around and find Gregory immediately, and he’s downing a pint of beer.
When I get to the table, he looks at my belly, and his eyes widen. “Uh, you’ve put on some weight—”
I cut him off. “Yeah, being seven months pregnant will do that to you. So what do you want, Gregory?”
He tilts his head, and I shift in my seat the way he’s looking at me. He points at my belly that is protruding over the top of the table. After crossing his arms on the table, he leans forward and just stares at me.
I don’t look away even though the longer I sit here, the more I wish I hadn’t come. When he doesn’t answer my question, I continue, “Forget it, I don’t need to know what you want to talk about. I have a few things I’d like to discuss with you.”