Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 53521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
I puff out my chest slightly. “I’ll protect her,” I say, feeling this insane need to watch after Felicity take root deep inside me.
“I believe you.”
“Ten more minutes,” I tell Felicity as she sits on the couch in her living room.
I’m busily chopping fresh vegetables to add to the salad, and making sure the pasta is cooked.
When I arrived at Felicity’s house this evening, she didn’t appear too happy to see me, but once I told her what I was making her for dinner, she opened the door wide and let me in.
Chicken parmigiana just happens to be one of her favorite meals.
“Are you going to cook for me every night?” Felicity asks, walking into the kitchen.
I grab the chopped tomatoes and add them to the salad bowl. “If you want me to, yes.”
“But once the baby comes, you won’t need to keep me healthy anymore, right?”
I set the knife down, and step closer to her. “You’ll be the mother of my child. Of course, I’ll need to keep you healthy.”
“Shep?” She breathes out.
“What?” I inch closer.
“What are you doing? I’m nearly ready to crack here. I’m tired. My breasts are itchy. I’m horny all the time, and I don’t know what I’m doing. And to top it off you’re making matters more complicated.”
I zero in on one word.
Horny.
“You’re horny all the time?”
Her eyes flick to mine. “Figures that would be the one thing you’d pick up on.”
I smile. “I can always help you out in that department.”
Felicity’s eyes widen. “What? No.” She steps away from me, getting some much needed distance between us.
Because since the moment she mentioned she was horny, I’ve been ready to go.
“I’m here to help you. Any way I can. If you’re horny, let me scratch that itch for you. I mean, you’re already carrying my baby, and it wouldn't have to mean anything.” Why am I grasping at straws here?
I want her. Badly. However, I can see that she doesn’t feel the same way as me. For whatever reason.
At the Christmas party, I felt like we were getting along great. That we were building a solid foundation and all that shit. However now, she acts like she doesn’t want me around.
And if she’s horny and going to look around for sex, it’s going to be with me dammit. Not some stranger.
Not that ex of hers.
“Shep, we can’t do that.” Her eyes are fixed right on me, and there’s something trying to swim to the surface. Like the thought is taking root.
“Why not?”
“Because we’re not a couple.”
Ouch.
“So?”
“So? I can’t have sex with you with no meaning.”
I should feel better about her saying this. That she’s not the type to sleep around. That sex with her has to mean something, and well, it brings me back to the night of the Christmas party. Did it mean something then?
I know it did for me.
“We’ve had sex before without it meaning anything,” I say, trying to plead my case, wanting her to tell me that that night did mean something to her.
She stares at me for ten full seconds. She runs her full bottom lip between her teeth, and gazes up at me. “I guess you’re right.”
This pisses me off. To the point I’m boiling and not sure what I want to do about it. I’m half-tempted to let her eat by herself, and leave. The other half of me wants to push her up against the fridge and kiss the fuck out of her.
“I’m always right,” I tell her, my voice a little angrier than I intend for it. “Let’s eat. Did you want to set the table?” I ask her, glancing at the small dining room table she has nestled in the corner of her kitchen nook.
She doesn’t say anything, just starts setting the table for the both of us. I try to envision what her place will look like once the baby arrives. Will she have a high chair next to the table? Will the baby look like her?
I sure hope so.
She’s breathtaking.
I stall my movements to watch her as she busies herself with getting the cutlery out of the drawer, and I picture this life with her. Married. A few kids running around the house while I cook in the kitchen.
Sure, I’m not a great chef like Griffin, but I do enjoy cooking.
The vision is so clear in my head, and I find myself smiling as I finish preparing the meal.
Before long, Felicity and I sit at her table, eating in silence, until she glances over at me.
“Were you serious?”
“About what?”
“The sex?” she asks, her voice so timid.
“I’m always serious about sex. If you’re horny all the time, I can help you out with that.”
She takes a bite of her salad, and I’m happy she’s eating well. I want to make sure that baby inside her is getting everything it needs.