Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
I punch my cock in deep one last time, grab her lower lip with my teeth, and growl out the world’s best fucking orgasm while I shoot what feels like gallons of cum into her.
“Jesus,” I groan against her mouth before rolling to my side. She has no choice but to come with me since my arms encircle her. I lift her leg over my hip and keep myself planted inside of her while I let my heart rate come back down to a normal level.
Rachel is silent, but she seems content to lie like this. Her arm is draped lazily across my ribs, her face pressing into my neck. I’m content to stay this way as well, because I’ve never been averse to cuddling.
Something about the fact that my stomach is pressed against the stomach of the woman who is carrying my kid makes it special. If I weren’t so comfortable right now, I’d want to stick my hand in between us and touch her belly. That would probably freak her out, though, so I abstain.
“Is this weird?” she asks, and the sudden sound of her voice startles me.
Leaning back so I can look her in the eye, I ask, “Is what weird?”
“What we just did?”
“Sex?”
“Well, yeah,” she says almost hesitantly, as if she’s now doubting that what she thought might be weird actually isn’t at all. “I mean… we’re coworkers. We’ve known each other for a few years. Now we’re fucking. It’s just weird, right?”
“I’m pretty sure the weirdness comes from the fact we’re pregnant,” I say with a chuckle. “The fact we’re fucking is just a bonus.”
She gives a reluctant smile along with a chastising look. She wants me to be serious, but I’m feeling too replete and high on amazing sex to be.
I decide to change the subject. “Did you fill Kynan in on everything we learned at Dr. Anchors?”
Turns out, between our meeting with him and whatever Rachel discussed with him privately, there just wasn’t a whole lot. We were loaded down with literature on what to expect throughout the pregnancy, and had a good idea of what would happen on the subsequent follow-up visits. Dr. Anchors said there weren’t many limitations on Rachel this first trimester—at least physically for her job. She told me she’d described to him what all she did. Technically, she was as fit and physically sound to perform her job now as she was before she got pregnant. Of course, this might not hold true two months from now when she starts to show, and the baby could be more susceptible to injury as it grows.
“I filled him in,” Rachel says. By the tone of her voice, I’m thinking it wasn’t an enjoyable conversation.
“What’s he have a problem with?” I ask.
She gives a tiny shrug. “I guess he’s just worried about the general risk of sending a pregnant woman on the more dangerous ops.”
“Is he going to sideline you?”
Rachel doesn’t answer me directly. Instead, she asks. “Do you think I should be sidelined? I mean, this is your kid. What are your worries?”
I’m totally surprised by her graciousness toward my feelings on the matter, but I’m also careful in my answer. “Rachel… you know your body better than I ever could. I understand the risks, but pregnancy isn’t a disability. I guess right now at this stage, I don’t believe there’s much you can’t do. So, unless you’re worried about something…”
I let myself trail off, leaving it up to her to complete that sentence.
Chewing on her lower lip, Rachel considers this for a moment. “There are risks in everything.”
“You could be hit by a bus tomorrow crossing the street.”
She tries to pull away from me, but I hold her tight in place. “I’m a higher risk because of my age.”
“Because of the age of your egg, not because of what you do for a living,” I point out. I’d read all the literature they sent home with us and some additional stuff online. “I don’t think you need to stop living your life because you’re pregnant. I think you need to look at each mission, where it will be, and what the actual risk is. You can make decisions as opportunities are put in front of you.”
Her lips tilt up in an attempted smile, but the light of it doesn’t reach her eyes. She’s conflicted about something, and I’m wondering if this has to do with what she wanted to talk to Dr. Anchors about. She said it was about personal female stuff, and I took her at face value. But now…
“Do you know how Kynan and I met?” Rachel asks softly, and the change of subject and fondness in her voice throws me completely off.
“Um… no. I don’t believe so.”
Rachel wiggles slightly, not to pull completely away, but to put enough distance between us so she can look at me without craning her neck backward.