Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 72442 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72442 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
I could be pregnant right now.
I could’ve conceived Slate Solis’ baby at Disney World.
Though the timing hadn’t really been right in the beginning of the week, it was damn sure right now.
The possibility was high, actually.
The thought of carrying his baby sent little quivers of excitement down my spine.
“What was that look for?” He paused with his cock halfway in my pussy.
I licked my lips and started to sit up, to pull away, only to have him force me back down. Taking even more of him than he’d given me previously.
He still wasn’t all the way in, but he was in enough that I felt full and urgent, the need to start riding him a compulsion that I couldn’t quite control.
I swallowed hard and tried to think of something to say, something that wouldn’t make me sound crazy for wanting his baby, but he squeezed his hands on my thighs and said, “Tell me, baby.”
So I did.
I told him.
“I was thinking about having your baby,” I told him bluntly.
His eyes flared.
“You’re sure you want that? That you don’t think it’s too soon in our relationship?” he asked, pushing my hips down so that I could take even more of him.
I swallowed hard and tried to think of whether he was open to the idea, or if he was upset about it.
In the end, I went with honesty again.
“Yes,” I croaked, my ass finally meeting the tops of his hard, muscular thighs.
They tensed when I shimmied my hips, trying to get more comfortable.
But I knew it was futile. Having Slate in me would never be comfortable. He was a big man and I was a small woman. My thighs were spread obscenely wide, giving me no purchase whatsoever, causing me to take all of him whether I wanted to or not.
He pulled me down until my breasts were once again tickling against his chest hair.
“You want to know a secret?” he asked, sweeping his thumb over the apple of my cheek.
“What?” I whispered, my mouth hovering inches over his.
“I do, too.”
***
I shifted from side to side, trying to see over the person in front of me, and came up empty-handed.
“I can put you on my shoulders,” the man behind me suggested. “I can see great.”
“You can see great because you’re six foot four,” I snickered. “I would almost take you up on that offer, but I’m fairly sure if I put pressure on my vagina right now, I just might cry the whole time.”
The mother of two who’d forced her way in front of us when we’d arrived, running over my foot with her massive stroller, turned around and glared at me.
I wasn’t apologetic in the least.
Had she not gone to that exact spot, I would’ve been able to stand on the park bench instead of being forced to look at her ugly hair the entire time.
Bitch.
“Six foot five,” he corrected me. “And how about just on my back?”
I thought about that for a second.
That wouldn’t be too bad.
“Okay,” I said. “But when the show starts. I’m okay down here for now.”
The ‘show’ meaning the fireworks at Magic Kingdom that would be starting in about a minute and a half.
“Just get up here,” he muttered. “Your puny weight isn’t going to cause me to die if I have you up here for an extra minute.”
I felt my lips twitching. “Okay. Bend down a little bit.”
He crouched down until he was practically kneeling on the ground, and I scrambled up onto his back.
When he stood back up, my ass ended up being in the mom of two’s face.
“Hey!” she cried out.
“Sorry,” I called out. “You can move over to my spot.”
She huffed and did just that, not willing to fight when Slate looked at her over his shoulder and glared.
“You’re handy to have around,” I teased as I wrapped my arms around his neck and dropped a kiss to his bearded cheek. “And man, my foot really, really hurts. Is it possible to break something by having a stroller roll over it?”
I hadn’t realized just how much it was hurting until he’d lifted me off of my feet.
I stuck my foot out so that he could see it and winced.
I’d worn sandals thinking that I wanted to look cute for dinner. What I’d ended up doing was offering my feet no protection from the mob that was about to surround us.
“Fuck,” he said, sounding concerned. “Do you…” The lights went out everywhere, and people started to squeal in excitement all around us.
Then the most magical light and firework show that I’d ever seen in my life started.
And when Aladdin lit up the castle, Slate started to sing, and his voice literally took my breath away.
Because, surprise-surprise, he sang even better than my dad.
My dad, who sang me songs every single time I asked him to. My dad, who sounded like a better version of Josh Turner. My dad, who had always been the best singer I ever knew.