Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26681 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26681 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
“It won’t only be us.” Theo’s body stills at my confession. He knows what I’m talking about. We’ve never used protection and I was wondering when I was going to get pregnant again. Our doctor told us not to worry about it because I was breastfeeding. Some women have trouble conceiving while still doing that. Athena turned one a few weeks ago and I stopped breastfeeding altogether. That hadn't taken long at all. I guess the doctor was right.
Theo’s hand drifts to my stomach. “What will you give me this time, little muse?”
“A son,” I laugh. As if I can pick what we have. Still, it feels like a son this time.
“I love you.” He drops his forehead to mine. He closes his eyes for a moment, savoring the news.
“I love you too,” I respond instantly. Theo’s hand on my stomach slips lower. His hand brushes my clit through my outfit. My breathing picks up. I know where this is going. This is the first time we’ve been alone all day. I wiggle, wanting more. I don’t know if we have the time. We might have to wait.
“We head down in five,” a woman's voice calls from the other side of our door. Crap.
“I can get you off in two,” Theo growls, making my heart flutter with excitement. I nod yes. Yes because I want him to and because I know he can.
Theo knows my body better than I do. Not only does he make me come in under two minutes, but he does it again minutes after our performance. He’s always worked up after I sing. This time, though, I also get to make him come.
He says I’m his muse, but he’s mine, too.
Epilogue
Theo
Five years later…
I lie in bed with my hands behind my head as I listen to my wife hum from the bathroom as she gets ready for bed. God, I love calling her that. I didn't let her keep the fiancée title long. She barely got used to the word before I had my last name tagged to her first. I know I can be over the top at times with my jealousy and possessiveness, but it got me my wife and it kept her, so I don't give a shit. It’s a good thing she doesn't seem to be bothered by those traits in me because they still rear their head more often than not.
Tonight has been an example of that. My daughter’s new soccer coach let his eyes linger far too often on my wife—a woman he knows is not only married but pregnant. Very pregnant. There’s no missing her round belly that carries our second daughter. I can’t blame the man. My little muse is beautiful, but she glows when she’s pregnant. I thought people were exaggerating when they said pregnant women glow but she’s utterly luminous.
She comes strolling out of the bathroom a moment later in her silky white robe. Her hair is loose around her shoulders. She pauses when she sees me sitting on the bed. I got the kids to bed quick. I might have promised the twins ice cream for breakfast, but I’ll deal with that aftermath in the morning. Right now I need my wife. It’s the only thing that will cool this jealousy I shouldn't be feeling in the first place. It’s not her fault she’s so goddamn beautiful, but she is. Men look at her and want her. Hell, I pulled her into my home, locking her in the moment I laid eyes on her to make sure she was mine. Maybe that’s the problem. I’m always worried some fuck is trying to snatch my wife from me. Nothing would have stopped me from having her. I reason other men will do about anything to get her from me.
She raises an eyebrow at me. “You got them down already?” She places a hand on her hip, knowing I must have given the twins something to get me out of reading four books to them. Normally, I love reading to them, but tonight I needed her.
“You have your ways and I have mine.” Her way is singing. It gets our little ones down fast. I motion for her to come to me. She does without question, moving between my legs.
“I’ll take ice cream for breakfast, too.” She smirks at me. What the hell?
“Baby monitor.” She shows me the small device in her hand. I forgot about the damn thing. Why she still has it, I don’t know. The boys are almost four. I don’t remind her they aren’t babies anymore. I know that will end with her in tears. I don’t blame her. They grow so damn fast. We said this was going to be our last, but I’m not sure how true that will hold.
I take the baby monitor from her and toss it aside. “Lose the robe.” I can’t the growl that escapes.