Trusting Again (Coming Alive Duet #2) Read Online T.O. Smith

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors: Series: Coming Alive Duet Series by T.O. Smith
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Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
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We’d agreed to fill her up together. It’d feel so much better for her.

“Fuck,” I growled, hammering in and out of her sweet ass.

“Blaze,” she whimpered.

I grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back. “Now!” I roared.

We slammed into her at the same time, both of us coming inside of her, filling her up just as we promised her we would do.

12

Montana

I sighed and tossed another pair of jeans onto the bed that didn’t fit anymore. Sixteen weeks pregnant, and I felt like a fucking whale. I was so small for so long, and it seemed like overnight, I swelled everywhere I could swell on my body.

I had a therapy appointment today, but if I didn’t find something comfortable, I was calling to schedule a virtual appointment because this was bullshit.

“It looks like the closet vomited,” John commented, leaning on the doorframe of my bedroom.

I was wearing a dress—a fucking dress—and I didn’t do dresses. But I was hoping something would fit for me to wear to my appointment, but nope. And like hell was I mentioning it to Jonah or Blaze. Jonah’s business was finally earning a steady income, and I didn’t want him spending that on me. And if Blaze even got wind, I’d suddenly have a brand-new wardrobe.

“Nothing fits anymore,” I grumbled, sitting on the edge of the bed. I didn’t bother looking down. The evidence of my pregnancy was right there in front of my face, and I still wasn’t coping well with it. It was something we were working on, but I was beginning to come to the conclusion that I was just one of those women that just weren’t fit to be a mom.

And that was okay.

Or, at least, my therapist told me it was. I was still struggling to come to terms with that because it felt wrong.

I scrubbed my hands down my face. “I need to call my therapist and schedule a virtual appointment,” I grumbled.

John sighed. “Why don’t you just go in that?”

I cut him a dark look. “I can’t hide this bump in this, John,” I retorted.

Understanding crossed his features. He took a seat beside me. “Making any headway on that?” he asked.

I just shrugged. He pressed a kiss to my temple. “I’ll leave you to it. Make sure you text Blaze and Jonah so one of them doesn’t come to pick you up.”

I nodded. He got off my bed and left the room, leaving me to schedule a virtual appointment and figure out how the fuck I was going to get clothes without either of my boyfriends finding out I needed them.

I huffed. “Where in the hell are we going?” I asked Blaze. I was tired, and I was wearing another stupid ass dress. He’d showed up out of nowhere, and I was pretty sure he had figured out I needed new clothes without saying a word.

Because I never wore fucking dresses. I hated them.

“We wanted to show you something,” Blaze said.

“We?” I asked. “If it’s we, then where’s Jonah?”

He cut me a dark look. “Keep being bratty, and I’ll bend you over my knee.”

I huffed again, crossing my arms over my chest. He reached over and squeezed my knee in a warning before turning down a long, paved drive. I kept my mouth shut, watching the trees as they slowly passed us by. I frowned at the house we pulled up in front of. Jonah’s car was parked in front of it.

“Jonah and I bought a house,” Blaze informed me as Jonah got out of his car, leaning against the side of his car, watching us.

I was quiet for a moment. “You two bought a fucking house?” I snapped. “What was wrong with your apartments?” I demanded.

Blaze sighed, but he didn’t seem surprised by my outburst. “Nothing wrong with the apartments, Montana. But we’re together, and Jonah and I are both in this for the long haul. The three of us need a space of our own.”

I felt like my mind was spinning out of control. “And you didn’t think to ask me what I wanted?” I demanded. My voice sounded high—hysterical. I was freaking the fuck out.

He arched a brow at me, ever the fucking calm one. “Tell me your fears—right now.”

I shook my head and thrust my fingers through my hair. “It’s not fear. It’s—it’s—”

The passenger door opened, and then Jonah was there, his hand sliding into my hair. “Breathe,” he ordered, his voice soft and gentle. “Just breathe, Montana. It’s okay.”

I sucked in a ragged breath. The outside of the house was gorgeous. It was white with blue shutters, and shrubs were planted around the white front porch. A porch swing blew gently in the breeze, and two rockers sat on either side of the front door.

I blinked, my heart rate calming, my lungs no longer feeling so constricted.



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