Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
“That’s fair.” Her voice turns into that anxious, withdrawn, low tone that makes me feel so distant from her. Like an ass for treating her like anything other than a queen. “Are you sure you still want to do this?”
“Yes,” I say immediately. I’m as sure as I was on the balcony, in the car, and whenever I’m with her. “I’m sending the car now. Where do you want it to park?”
“At the end of the street would be better. Is that okay?”
Her voice is still quiet. It’s like she’s worried I’m going to snap at her. I need to cool the hell off. “Of course, it is, Emma. Anywhere you want.”
“Okay. See you soon.”
After hanging up, I send the text. Then I go to the window, looking out onto the hilly landscape. Arid. Not like just a couple of nights ago, staring out a window back home at the cold incoming winter. I quickly shower, my thoughts turning to Emma, her curvy body and those hips. There’s no risk of anybody catching us this time.
Maybe it’s selfish, but by the time I’ve toweled myself off, I can think about my woman instead of the game. At least I’m able to push the game into the background. What would my daughter think? What would my son think, abandoning my team? Am I supposed to abandon my woman instead?
My cell phone rings. It’s Emma. My body goes tight when I remember almost telling her everything last night. The need to claim I feel for her, but I wonder if I even have to say it aloud. Surely, coming here shows her how committed I am to the family. “Hey, I’m outside,” she says when I answer.
“I’ll come down now.”
I swallow, my body turning savage again. Every muscle in me twitches as I ride the elevator down, my cock pushing against the shorts I’ve hastily thrown on. Luckily, the elevator is empty, but it still would’ve been better to put something else on. My tip presses right against the material.
My shaft shifts when the doors open, and I see Emma standing at the end of the corridor. My chest clamps when she hurries forward. She walks into the elevator before it closes.
I press the button, balls aching when I look down at her. Her hair is loose against her shoulders. She’s got subtle makeup around her eyes with fine black lines. Her cheeks are red. Maybe makeup, maybe just that sweet pregnancy shine. She’s wearing a large coat that has me wondering what’s underneath.
“Hey,” she says with an awkward half-smile.
I smirk. I can’t dwell on the game for too long. Not when my woman is so clearly doubting when she never has a reason to. Leaning down, I kiss her passionately. She makes that adorable, almost shocked, whimpering noise. It’s like the pleasure always catches her off guard.
Moving my hands down her body, I sink my fingers into her hips through the coat. I feel her curviness, addicted to it, always. Hungry, forever. She moans again when I push her against the wall, driving with my hips so she can feel my member against her.
When the doors open, I step away, relieved nobody is waiting for the elevator. Nobody can see her when she’s all flushed and horny. I keep forgetting that.
I take her hand as we walk down the corridor. “It’s so good to see you,” she says softly. “It doesn’t feel like it’s been, what, less than twenty-four hours? Not even a day.”
I squeeze her hand. “Time does strange things with us. Honestly, it doesn’t feel like I met you just six weeks ago.”
As I unlock the door, she pulls herself close and kisses my arm. I feel the warm imprint through my shirt. It’s so intimate. It feels like something a girlfriend would do. I almost laugh thinking of that. Girlfriend? She’s so much more.
“What’s funny?” Emma asks as I lead her into the suite.
“When you kissed me, I thought, damn, it feels like having a girlfriend, but we’re more than that.”
Once I’ve shut the door, she turns and presses herself against me. Her fingernails dig into my skin as she clings to my neck. I can feel her lust bursting through her. She looks at me with those wide, pretty eyes, subtly ringed with makeup. “Are we?” she whispers.
“You’re going to give birth to my baby,” I growl. “That means we’re connected. That means, as a man, I must do the right thing. I want to do the right thing.”
She kisses me on the cheek, then rests her face against my chest. We stay like that, my hand on her shoulder. It’s another hard shot of intimacy. It feels new and exciting, like a teenager experiencing my first foray into love. “Were you close with your dad?”
“You want to talk about this now?” I say, massaging her thick hips. “When I know you’re hiding a beautiful outfit underneath that coat?”