Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
“I was thinking of inviting Livy for dinner,” I say on the spur of the moment. Maybe it will cheer her up.
She turns onto her back, staring at the ceiling.
I study her face. “Would you like that?”
“You know why I don’t want to bring Livy here.”
“We can go to a restaurant.”
She searches my eyes for a moment before saying, “Okay.”
I want her. Badly. However, she’s exhausted, and I’ve played my part in it by wearing her out with sex. The more I have her, the more I want her. It’s never enough. I still find it miraculous. I’ve never been this desperate for anyone every minute of the day without fail.
I will my hardening cock down, ignoring the hot wave of need to taste her that builds inside me.
Instead, I kiss her forehead. “What would you like to do today? We can stay at home and watch a movie.”
Her lush lips curve with a tentative smile. “I have to meet Tersia in town. We’re going baby shopping.”
“That sounds like fun.”
“Spending time with Tersia is always fun.” She reaches out as if to touch me, but pulls back her hand. “When she has an exhibition again, we should go. I’d like to see her work.”
“Just give me the date, and I’ll put it in my agenda.”
“Thanks,” she says, sitting up. “It will be good for our public image.”
I swear I heard a bite in her tone. “Is she still pushing for the four of us to have dinner?”
“Very much. I’m running out of excuses.”
“Sorry, treasure. Richard isn’t my type.”
“I know.”
She makes to get out of bed but stills halfway into the act.
“Is everything all right?” I ask, jackknifing into an upright position next to her.
Her face lights up with wonder. She cups a hand over her stomach and says in a breathless voice, “I just felt her move.”
“The baby?”
A laugh bubbles from her lips. “Oh my God. There she is again.”
I look at her stomach, unable to process that the little being inside there is doing acrobatics. “What does it feel like?”
“Butterfly wings.” She giggles. “Ticklish.”
“May I?” I ask, my hand shaking slightly when I raise it.
She’s mine in every way. I claimed her body, and I intend on claiming a lot still, but for some reason, touching her like this feels more invasive than fucking her to heaven and back.
She removes her hand and gives a shy nod.
My chest swells with a foreign sentiment as I lay a hand over the life growing inside her. I wait, counting to ten and back, but there’s nothing.
“Do you feel it?” she asks.
My disappointment is palpable. “No.”
“It’s too early,” she says with an easy smile. “You’ll probably feel it closer to five or six months.”
I can’t tear my gaze away from her stomach. “What do you think he’s doing?”
She grins. “Turning maybe or kicking.”
I’m reluctant to move my hand, but when she swings her legs over the bed, I don’t have a choice but to get out of her way.
“Have you chosen a name yet?” I ask.
She glances over her shoulder at me. “No.”
“Matthew isn’t bad for a boy.”
“Who says it’s going to be a boy?”
“Claire is pretty for a girl.”
She gives me an odd look before standing.
“Let me know when you’ve decided,” I say. “I’d like to get one of those gold baby medals engraved.”
She remains glued to the spot for a couple of beats before walking to the bathroom.
I’ve never explicitly told her about my intention of keeping her. I let her come to her own assumption as she closes the door and turns the key, literally locking me out.
Yeah, no. That doesn’t work for me.
I’m out of the bed and in front of the door before I’ve blinked, slamming a shoulder against the wood. Pain lances into my arm, but my brain merely categorizes the discomfort. I barely feel it. Another shove, and the wood splinters around the lock.
Anya utters a yelp where she stands at the basin with a toothbrush in her hand as the door swings inward.
I don’t know how I get in front of her. The one moment I’m standing on the threshold, and the next, I’m crushing her in my arms.
“What’s wrong, tesoro?” I brush the vibrant red hair from her face, the act gentle in comparison to the violence I just committed to remove the obstacle between us. “Talk to me, Anya.”
“Nothing,” she says, her pretty eyes round.
Her heart beats wildly against my chest. She’s lying. I recognize the fear in her eyes.
Splaying a hand over her face, I push back her head. The pressure of my fingers on her cheeks pouts her lips. I swoop down and claim them, tasting the minty toothpaste and the lies on her tongue.
“Tell me,” I say into the kiss.
She tries to shake her head in my grasp.
When I loosen my hold to let her speak, she says, “Nothing.”