Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 72561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
His mouth covered mine for short moments before he withdrew and took the envelope from my hand.
“What kind of pictures?” he asked curiously.
“The ones you asked for,” I replied cryptically.
***
I was slipping on my hose when two large hands stopped me, and then pushed me gently forward.
“Loki,” I said. “We have to be at Lola’s awards ceremony in an hour.”
Lola was the girl I’d saved from the wreckage, and an absolute doll.
“We have time,” he rumbled as his stubbled jaw ran along my cheek.
“No we don’t,” I tried.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he moaned against my mouth. “You know I love you, right?”
My hand came up and cupped his jaw.
Then moved lower as I dropped my hand down his stomach, to his briefs that were doing way too good a job at holding his cock in check.
“Yeah,” I whispered huskily. “Why?”
Once my hand made contact with his cock, his restraint took a flying leap.
“Because I’m about to fuck you like I don’t. Stand up,” he commanded.
***
“I can’t believe you! We’re so freakin’ late!” I moaned.
“Lola’s last name is Vine. We’ll make it,” he assured me, as he pulled into a spot at the front of the auditorium.
Lola, the sixteen year old who’d I’d stayed with during the wreck, had become very special to me.
Her father was a doll, and the exact opposite of any senator I’d ever read about.
He was extremely down to earth, and grieved the death of his late wife.
Lola was doing well under the circumstances, and three and a half months after the accident that took her mom so suddenly, she was accepting an award for perfect attendance and honor’s society.
Loki got out and walked toward my door, but I was already hefting myself out of my wedding present from Loki.
He’d been working on my Pontiac Firebird in secret for months, and had only given it to me yesterday. He’d tried to convince me to take the truck today, but I’d been adamant that we take the Firebird. I was sure it was going to be sweet.
And it was. It was so beyond everything I ever wanted that I could literally kiss his feet.
If I could heft my fat ass down there.
“It’s convenient that you have that nifty little police badge that lets you park wherever you want to park,” I said dryly.
“Yep. Really convenient,” he agreed.
“You know, this’ll be us in sixteen years,” I said conversationally.
He turned his head to me, his pale blue eyes pinning me to his gaze. “I can’t fucking wait.”
Chapter 22
You can take your ‘breathe’ and shove it up your ass.
-Channing, hour eight of labor
Loki
Two nights later
“Give her a focal point. Something to look at,” the nurse suggested to me.
Dixie, who, God only knew why he was in the room, calmly walked forward, and then lifted up his shirt to show off his massive belly.
Honest to God, I couldn’t make this shit up.
The room was far from empty.
Nurses, a doctor, two interns, and two nursing students crowded into the small space much to Channing’s annoyance.
Every single one of them laughed, even Channing.
“Is that good?” Dixie asked Channing.
Tears were still pouring down her cheeks, but at least she was smiling.
Even all these months later, tears still killed me. Especially hers. And God help me when this kid finally made his arrival, because his would too.
“I need more ice chips,” Channing groaned.
I looked at the nearly full cup of ice she was holding in her hands. “Why? That one’s nearly full.”
The little pink cup that was holding the ice chips went sailing through the air, and smashed into the far wall directly next to where Baylee was standing.
The ice chips hit the wall with a thud, and the sound of thousands of shards of ice hit the tiled floor with a spray.
Baylee was too busy laughing her ass off to realize she’d nearly been brained with a cup of ice.
“Those ice chips suck balls. I want new ice chips. Ones that aren’t melted,” she snarled.
I backed away from her slowly, darting past the two student nurses who were standing in the corner of the room with wide eyes.
My feet crunched on the ice as I exited the room, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was getting the little she-devil some motherfuckin’ ice.
“Can I help you, sir?” The lone woman who was at the nurse’s station asked.
Today was a full moon, and apparently a very busy night.
Channing had gone into labor earlier this morning, but she’d waited it out until around seven in the evening.
When Channing had first told me she didn’t want to have any drug interventions, I’d thought she’d gone off her rocker.
But arguing with the pregnant woman was suicidal.
The nurse came back quickly and handed me a cup of ice. “Thanks,” I muttered, before hustling back to the room.
When I entered the room, you could’ve heard a pin drop.
“Well?” Channing yelled.
“Uhh,” one of the baby doc’s said.
“It feels like it’s on fire. Can you put some ice on it?” Channing groaned.
“Channing, your, ah, clitoris is not on fire. It’s only a side effect of the crowning. Now, I’ve got you all in position. Push on the next contraction, okay?” Dr. Summer said with a laugh in his voice.
I looked at Brittany, Baylee, Adeline, and Viddy, who were all standing in the corner with beat red faces, and raised my eyebrows at them.
They shook their heads, refusing to answer.
Turning, I strode up to Channing, crunching on the ice once again, and came up to her side.
“What’s wrong, baby?” I asked as I ran my hand along her sweaty forehead.
She turned her eyes to me and glared. “My clit is burning. Will you hold some of that ice on it?” she asked.
“Uhh,” I looked at Dr. Summer for support.
Dr. Summer shrugged. He was a smart man.
Thus, that’s how I found myself holding a piece of ice over my wife’s clit while she pushed our child out.
“Push from your bottom,” Dr. Summer said when the next contraction hit.
Channing curled up over her belly, and started pushing.