Loving February – The President’s Daughters Read Online M.K. Moore, ChaShiree M

Categories Genre: Alpha Male Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 17407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 87(@200wpm)___ 70(@250wpm)___ 58(@300wpm)
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“You’re not now, but you will be, baby.” Her mouth forma an ‘O’, and I can’t miss the chance. “Yeah, that will be one of the ways I show you who is in charge.” She basically chokes on her ice cream before she looks at me.

“I cannot believe you said.”

“Really? Seriously? You are the one making the very same noises I can't wait to hear from your fucking mouth when I am balls deep in that pussy so don’t act shocked.” Her mouth opens and closes as she tries to think of something to say. Clearing my throat, I attempt to convert the conversation. “What upset you on your phone?” The tension leaves her when I change the subject.

“Just an email from one of my mom’s. They are still upset, telling me I should stop this childish expedition and come home. Apparently a grown woman shouldn’t be worried about trivial things like the other side of her DNA.” I can hear the anger in her voice, and it pisses me off for her. I try to think of something to do, so I do what I know.

“Give it a few days, baby. I promise they will be the last thing on your mind.” Yeah that got her mind on something else. Hopefully, my cock.

CHAPTER

FIVE

FEBRUARY

ONE WEEK LATER

As soon as I step on the plane, I regret all my life choices. Cupid’s Cove, Maine, is cold as hell. I pull my coat tighter around my body and walk down the stairs. Connall is behind me, close. I can feel the heat rising off of him, enveloping me.

The driver of the car he hired is waiting in the car, but he jumps out of the driver’s seat and opens the back door for us.

“Mr. Ahearn. Welcome to Maine.”

“Thank you, Foster. Here is the address we need to go to.”

“Right away,” he says, taking the Post-It I wrote the address on.

I slide into the car and Connall slides in beside me. His thigh is touching mine. It’s so hard to believe that this little touch makes me so wet. My pussy throbs like a fucking heartbeat.

We pull up in front of a small house. There are children’s toys in the yard, covered in a layer of snow that’s lightly falling. I smile when I see the Little Tyke wagon I used to have. Connall takes my hand and leads me up the icy driveway. I knock on the door, and a frazzled-looking woman with a baby on her hip opens the door.

“Hello. Can I help you?”

“Uh, is Nathan Harper here?”

“He’s not at the moment, but come in out of the weather. Nate will be home soon. He went to the store to pick up some bread and milk. We are in for some weather. I’m Nessa, Nate’s wife. How do you know my husband?” she asks, leading us to the living room. There are two older, but younger than ten, children sitting on the floor watching TV. I begin to wonder if we have the wrong person. Nessa is barely older than me.

“We don’t. I just need to ask him a question. I’m February Graham, and this is Connall Ahearn.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

“Nate texted when he left the store. It’s just ten minutes away. Can I get you something to drink? Coffee, juice, something stronger?”

“Coffee would be great,” I say.

“No problem. Here,” she says, handing me her baby.

“Uh…” I cradle the baby. My eyes fly up to meet Connall’s, and he’s looking at me weirdly.

“You’re not a serial killer, are you?”

“No, of course not.”

“I didn’t think so. I’m an excellent judge of character. She’ll be fine until I get back.”

“Okay. What’s her name?” I ask, still in shock. I’ve never once held a baby before. I babysit when I was younger, but they were always older kids.

“Sunny. Miles and Tyler are on the floor.” She leaves the room.

“That was weird.”

“Maybe not. She’s probably been stuck inside with them all day,” I whisper.

“Probably.”

“Hello, Miss Sunny. I’m February,” I babble. She’s too young to understand me, but I do it anyway. The boys notice Connall and get up and go over to him showing him their toys. It’s fucking adorable.

“I’m home,” a man’s voice calls from by the front door. “What the hell is going on here?”

“Nathan Harper?” I ask, standing.

“Yeah, who’s asking?”

“I’m February Graham.”

“Okay. Why are you holding my baby?”

“Be nice, Nate. She just needs to ask you a question,” Nessa says, bringing in a tray with coffee on it. She sets it down on the coffee table. Huh, why is it this the first time that it’s dawned on me that’s why it's called that? “Give me those bags and sit down.” He stomps the snow off of his boots and does what she asks. I hand him Sunny.

“There’s no easy way to ask this, so I’m just going to come right out with it. Did you donate… sperm,” I whisper, “in the late nineties.”



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