Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
I was still ready to claw his fucking skin off.
But slow could be good too.
Good enough to give me an orgasm so fucking intense I literally passed out within seconds of having it. I didn’t think that happened in real life.
Then again, these days I got exhausted working a half shift at the bakery, so three rounds of pretty acrobatic sex were more than enough to wear me out, especially when I’d been sleeping like shit and had pretty recently been in a car accident. I barely even thought about my cast, and I’d been worried that Kip would treat me like I was breakable because of it. He did not. Sure, he made some adjustments on account of the cast and the belly, but he didn’t go easy on me. Hence me passing out with his dick still inside me.
And I’d slept all through the night. I hadn’t needed to get up to pee or readjust or anything.
I vaguely recalled using Kip’s muscled chest as a pillow, with his arms tight around me. I also vaguely recalled feeling safe and secure and utterly fucking content.
If I recalled those things, I was somewhat aware enough to understand I was falling asleep in Kip’s bed. I was just too tired to get up. It wasn’t because I liked sleeping with him again.
When I woke, though, I was not sprawled on an impressive chest. I was… surrounded by pillows. One at my front, one at my back, caging me in.
It took me a while to get my bearings and fight my way out of the pillow cage.
In that time, Kip walked back into his bedroom, wearing plaid pajama pants, low-slung and showing off his Adonis belt, impressive abs, and muscles that moved like fluid in the morning light.
He was holding two coffee mugs with a plate balanced on one of them.
I quickly struggled against the blankets to sit up, reaching out for the plate and the mug with impatient fingers.
Kip knew me well enough to know I needed coffee as soon as I woke, but also that I couldn’t have it on an empty stomach without vomiting, even though my morning sickness had mostly gone. So, he had toast with orange marmalade on the plate.
He’d never made toast for me during the deep freeze—that was one thing I managed myself—yet he knew I needed it, nonetheless. He’d been watching me a lot closer than I’d thought.
“Thank you,” I said, already grabbing for the toast so I could shove it down my throat and get to the coffee quicker.
Kip didn’t say anything. He also knew I didn’t like speaking first thing in the morning.
He took his coffee into the bathroom, where I heard the shower turn on. I commenced my slow wake-up routine, with the eating and then the drinking of the coffee.
By the time Kip came out with the towel slung around his hips, hair still dripping wet, I was somewhat human.
“Why is it that men can never seem to adequately dry themselves after a shower?” I muttered.
He didn’t move toward his dresser and begin to get dressed, which was a disappointment. I kind of wanted to watch the towel drop. Instead, he came to sit on my side of the bed.
“Because this man knew he had a sexy, naked woman in his bed who he couldn't guarantee would be there when he got back,” he said, eyes shamelessly checking me out.
My skin tingled. I would admit, as much as I was in awe of my changing body, I was self-conscious too. I’d relied on my sex appeal for most of my adult life. I didn’t know if that still remained with the stomach. According to Kip, it did.
“Well, I couldn’t get out of here since you surrounded me in pillows,” I informed him. “What’s with that?”
“You’re not supposed to sleep on your back now that you’re twenty weeks, and I just wanted to make sure.”
I raised my brows. “That’s a debated stance,” I replied. “And how in the fuck do you even know that?”
Kip nodded beside me.
I blinked at his bedside table, or more accurately the stack of books on his bedside table.
The stack of baby books.
I reached over and grabbed the closest, squinting at the cover.
“What to Expect When You’re Expecting,” Kip said. “Cliché, maybe, but a classic for a reason.”
I looked from him to the book. “You know they turned this into a movie, right?” I waved the book at him.
He chuckled. “Yeah, I’m aware. I’ll be sure to check that out. After I finish the book, of course. The book is always better than the movie.” He winked.
My body felt warm.
The safe feeling came back.
“Okay,” I said, propping myself up further in order to get out of bed. Kip hurried to help me.
I waved him off. “I’m capable of getting myself out of bed,” I snapped. Though I didn’t punctate my point well with a slight struggle. I had yet to get used to my cast and my newfound center mass.