Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
“Maybe he’s right.” I jerk my gaze over toward Danielle in shock. “You need to get out of LA. Get on the chopper. Take the flight to New York and disappear for a minute. That’s what you’ve wanted anyway,” she reminds me. I want to be left alone.
“I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow.”
“I’ll handle it,” Oliver tells me as his phone goes off again. If the man can buy a building and get a chopper in a matter of seconds, I'm sure he can more than handle anything.
“This will get you out of the city without being seen,” Danielle whispers to me. “What you do once you get there is on you. Give him the slip or spend some time getting to know your baby daddy.” She is right. I do need to spend some time with Oliver.
“Chopper is here,” Oliver informs me as he once again pockets his phone.
“Are we doing this the hard way or the easy way?” His face is unreadable as he says it. My eyes go to the scar on his face that I know has a story. I want to know it. Hell, I want to know so many things about this man. I want to share everything with him.
“I’ll come with you.” I raise my chin. “But remember. I rarely do things the easy way.” I swear he mumbles something about him already knowing that before he guides me toward my future.
Chapter Eight
Oliver
The helicopter and the doc are waiting for us. I shift the sole bag of Maddie’s belongings and shake Dr. Quay’s hand. “Thanks for coming on this flight with us.”
The older woman gives us a half smile. “I didn’t know I had a choice.”
“Oh, is he kidnapping you, too?” Maddie snarks.
“Good thing I took the handcuffs off or this might be uncomfortable,” I reply in a joking tone. “Dr. Quay, after you. We don’t want the helicopter to sit too long. It could run out of fuel while we’re in the air.”
This is a lie, but it works because the two of them scramble onto the chopper. I follow and the copilot shuts the door behind me. The pilot instructs us to put our headphones on and soon we are in the air. No one speaks, not even Maddie, who could be repeating her claim of kidnapping. Maybe she thinks I’ve paid the pilots off. I haven’t but I will if I need to. The thought of losing her again makes me entertain very violent and illegal thoughts.
Maddie looks fuller. Her hips are rounder, her breasts are heavier, and her cheeks are slightly plumper. There’s a glow to her that I haven’t seen before. She’s never looked more beautiful, more desirable.
I run my tongue behind my lower teeth, remembering the flavor of her. It’s been five months, but the taste—that sweet, tart deliciousness—has never left me. Want surges through me, seizing me by my throat. A sudden urge to shove the doctor out of the helicopter and ravage Maddie’s new body seizes me. It would take less than ten seconds to pull out my cock and drag her onto my body. I’ve taken her in every position—on her back, on her knees, standing up, lying down, riding me. This could be her very own helicopter adventure. It would definitely be one I’d remember.
A discreet cough in my ear has me turning toward the doc. She gives a terse, short shake of her head and I realize that I’m already halfway out of my seat.
Fuck. Needing a distraction, I pull out my phone.
If I keep looking at Maddie, if I keep remembering what it felt like when my tongue was against her cunt, when I was sunk balls deep inside of her, when all my world had narrowed to her scent, her taste, and her touch, then I would take her.
The short flight lands at the airport where a rented private jet awaits. Mine is still in New York. Since everyone has been apprised that a pregnant woman is on board for safety precautions, a flight attendant comes down to the base of the stairs to help Maddie inside.
I watch Maddie’s delicious ass swing back and forth as she climbs up the stairs. That ass is so fine, a cast replica should be hanging in the Louvre—or, at the very least, in my office. I start up after her when I feel a hand on my arm.
Dr. Quay tugs on my jacket. “Before I check out your partner, I wanted to talk to you about prenatal care.”
“Shoot.”
“While sex with a woman who is in her second trimester is not inherently dangerous, too much activity can be problematic. Also, pregnant women may suffer from increased sensitivity and may not want to have intercourse.”
The last bit of her advice has me squinting. “I’m not going to force myself on her, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”