Total pages in book: 235
Estimated words: 227851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1139(@200wpm)___ 911(@250wpm)___ 760(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 227851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1139(@200wpm)___ 911(@250wpm)___ 760(@300wpm)
I kiss her, because I just have to. Kiss her endlessly. “I sat there all night and watched you sleeping, and all I thought about was every reason for you not to want me.” It was one of the longest nights of my life. “I knew it was wrong to take them, but I saw it as collateral. That’s how desperate I was.”
She’s smiling. I have no clue why, but I’m grateful. “So you don’t want a baby?” she asks. “You just want to keep me?”
Why is she asking such stupid questions? I look at her. Like really look at her. She’s pure bliss. My dark-haired, dark-eyed, olive-skinned piece of heaven, wrapped up in a banging body with a side of sass and a huge heart. A heart, thank God, that’s kind and a mind that’s understanding. Her perfect nose wrinkles, her eyes willing me on, her lip curving at the corner. Go on, baby. Smile for me. And it breaks, her eyes bursting with happiness that I could never measure. She loves that I love her so hard.
“I want everything in the world with you, baby,” I whisper, returning her smile. A smile only Ava can draw from me. “And I want it all yesterday.”
She nods, albeit mildly. “Thank you for my watch,” she says quietly. I know she’s not only thanking me for that. And for me, the watch is not just a symbol of how much I love her. How much I want to give her, share with her. It’s a symbol of time. And what I have left is all hers. And our peanut’s.
“You’re more than welcome.” I press gently into Ava’s lips, before I move in and kiss them like I adore her. Because I do. And now that we’ve talked, we’ll talk.
I moan and roll us, getting Ava beneath me, and nudge her legs apart with my knees so she’s wide open to me, my mouth still adoring her, her hands all over my back. “Going to ask me to wear a condom?” I mumble around her lips, moving across her cheek to her ear, feeling her hips lifting invitingly.
“Ha . . . ha,” she practically moans, her hands slipping down to my arse and applying pressure.
“Do you want me inside you?”
“Don’t ask stupid fucking questions.”
“Mouth.” I swivel, entering her slowly on a gush of air, instantly dizzy with pleasure, and Ava mumbles some incoherent words, probably curses, her short fingernails sinking into my flesh. “Fuck,” I hiss, pulling back and looking down at her. “Give me those eyes.”
She blinks them open, and the level of lust, need, want, and love staring back at me would put me on my arse if I was standing. “We’re going to be okay,” I whisper, starting a slow, steady pump of my hips, half expecting her to encourage something harder and faster. She doesn’t. Because in this moment, soft, slow, and steady wins the race.
But Ava gets there first, coming on a shallow gasp, stiffening all over, pulling my throbbing dick deep with the contractions of her muscles.
Am I’m gone, gasping, my head hanging, coming with her.
I remain on my forearms, suspended over her, pulsing, until my shoulders ache from holding myself up. Her stroking hands have slowed on my arse. Her breathing has changed. She’s fallen asleep. And this is how it should be for the rest of this pregnancy. No drama, no stress, no work pressure, just serenity. She looks so serene. Is it unreasonable to only want her to focus on this pregnancy and us? I wrinkle my nose and dip, gently kissing her cheek. Her eyes open. “Go back to sleep,” I order, pulling out of her and smiling when she snuggles down. How I want to stay with her and cuddle. But somehow, even after such a deep conversation—a deep connection and sexual release—I’m not tired. I’m energized. Second chances do that. So I leave Ava to nap—I expect there will be plenty of those in the coming months—pull on some boxers, and head downstairs, collecting some peanut butter on my way to the couch and checking my phone, seeing endless notifications. And a missed call from her brother. I laugh under my breath as I dip and lick. Fuck, I forgot about him. This will be interesting in light of the news we’ve got to share. And that’s exactly why I don’t call him back. I can’t promise I won’t blurt out that Ava’s pregnant, and I’m reasonable enough to know that that will get me a one-way ticket to the doghouse. So first I call the clinic and cancel my Friday appointment, grinning the whole time—I’m not broken—then I call John back, but before my thumb can dial, my phone rings and Dan’s name flashes up on my screen. Don’t answer.