Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 80342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
It got, so the chef had to make two separate meals for the family—one for the three of them and one for me, the normal one. When I pointed out that she was now eating like a one-year-old that did not go over well, her eating habits were one thing, but then there was the fact that she wanted to fuck every time she blinked.
It’s a wonder my dick still has any skin left. It wasn’t the sex that was the problem. As a man, I can only guess at what goes on in the female body during pregnancy. As far as I’m concerned, she was at her most delicate then and needed to be handled with care. She didn’t see things quite that way.
Her favorite thing was getting fucked hard from behind, the harder, the better. That’s how her ass went into labor two weeks before the date the doctor had set to induce her labor; scared the living fuck outta me. Now she wants to go climb up the face of a damn cliff.
“You know what your problem is; you have too much damn money. You people with money are always getting into shit.” It’s true, my family has millions, Jenny’s dad is worth a cool fifty billion or more, and since she’s his little princess, well, you get the idea.
Our wedding was in all the society papers, and I still don’t know what any of it cost, because my mother in law has been planning her little girl’s wedding her whole life. I don’t think even Jenny had much say in the details. She didn’t care. She was battling morning sickness and just wanted the deed done so she could stick a fork in me, or drag me back to her lair by my balls. She fucking owns me. I’ve never seen a happier human being in my life than Jenny the day we got married. You’d think she’d won something.
The first night of our honeymoon, I’d come back from the shower to find her asleep and a couple of leather-bound books on my pillow. They turned out to be her journals. I spent the whole night reading her neat, precise handwriting and was blown away by how much love she has inside her for me.
I’m inclined to believe that she sees something in me that no one else can, not even myself. I never knew such raw emotion could be real, but now I know it is because the love I feel for her trumps anything I’ve ever had before. I’ve never really been into cuddling; now, I can’t sleep unless she’s in my arms.
I find myself missing her at odd times, and just wanting to see her face or bury my nose in her hair, stuff like that. And the thought of anything happening to her or one of the kids freaks me out so bad that I tend to hover, which leads her to call me a mother hen.
She might have a point, but there’s also the fact that I don’t know where Lauren went. She’d skipped bail and was now a wanted woman in our city and state and considered dangerous. If Jenny’s dad had his way, she’d be on the FBI’s most-wanted list, but for Emma and Sara’s sake, he stopped short of that.
I’m not about to leave my family’s safety up to a piece of paper, though. Lauren had tried twice to harm them, and she’s not going to get a third chance. The P.I. I hired has been searching for months, but it’s as if she fell off the face of the earth.
She’s not dead unless she’s buried somewhere in an unmarked grave, but there are no records of her dying anywhere in the country, and as far as I know, her passport is still upstairs in the safe.
After the second set of twins was born, I don’t think I slept a wink for the first few weeks, and none of them were allowed to leave the house without me. It’s only here in the last few weeks that I’ve been able to ease up on my restraints, and that’s only because I’d taken measures to make sure I knew where they were at all times when they weren’t in front of me.
They’re not chipped, but they all have some kind of tracking device on them. Hers is in her rings, which she’s not allowed to take off ever, but the kids’ are going to have to be changed out as they grow. With those things in place, I can breathe a lot easier.
I didn’t use to monitor where my wife went, and since she never really went too far, there was never a concern until this adrenaline rush shit. Now I spy on her ass every time she leaves the house because I never know what the hell she’s going to get herself into next.