Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
I push that out of my head, though. That’s two days away and I don’t want that dragging me down from my high of seeing my kid in Kiera’s belly.
CHAPTER 26
Kiera
I hum to myself as I pour the eggs into the pan, swirling it to evenly coat the bottom and lower edges. I precut all the things that Bain likes in his omelet and add them in large clumps. I’m using his largest pan and six eggs, so it can handle a lot.
Crisp bacon, diced ham, cheddar cheese, onions, red peppers.
I want to add mushrooms, but we’re going to share the omelet and he’ll gag if he gets one in his mouth.
Smiling, I consider what the omelet says about our relationship. I enjoy cooking for him. We love to share food. I know the things he likes and doesn’t. In fact, I got up early this morning and grabbed a quick shower just so I could do this for him and we could share a meal.
It’s game day and he’ll be heading to the arena around noon. He spends a lot of time getting into his headspace and derives energy hanging with his teammates. They might play video games in the players’ lounge or they might kick a hacky sack around in the parking garage. They’ll eat together and do warm-up preparations.
But then Bain also takes alone time. He’ll put on his game-day playlist filled with, oddly enough, Viking war music. It’s guttural lyrics with a heavy metal flair, and it gets his adrenaline going. He has a ritual when lacing his skates that he recites the various skills he uses on the ice.
We’re creating our own rituals and I like this morning game-day habit. Me slipping out of bed and making him breakfast.
My stomach grumbles as the smells intertwine and I have a brief curiosity as to how much weight I’ll gain. Dr. Segal gave advice to eat healthily and continue exercising, so I imagine I’ll be fine, but damn if I don’t feel like I can eat this entire omelet myself. That I know is psychological because the little “bean” isn’t big enough yet to pull on my resources.
I move to flip the edges of the omelet but jerk as I feel Bain’s big body step into mine. His chest is bare and warm, and I can smell the lingering scent of toothpaste as he kisses my neck.
“I don’t know what smells better… you or that omelet,” he murmurs as he buries his nose in my hair. He loves my coconut-scented shampoo. I was touched to see he bought some and put it in his shower.
His hands move from my hips so that his arms circle around my stomach. His teeth graze my ear and I shiver.
Bain chuckles over my reaction and then takes the spatula from my hand.
“You going to cook now?” I ask, leaning my head back against his chest.
Tossing the spatula on the counter, he turns off the stove. “Not hungry for an omelet.”
There’s a tinge of disappointment that I misjudged what he might want to eat for his game-day breakfast, but then he has me in his arms and whirls me toward the kitchen island.
Bain deposits me on the granite and nudges his way between my legs. He’s wearing a pair of low-hanging sweatpants and my mouth waters at his muscular perfection.
His palms lightly rest on my thighs and he leans in to kiss me… a mere whisper of his lips over mine.
“I only have eggs for breakfast. I can run out and get something else for you.”
“I’m craving something different,” he says.
“It’s game day, so whatever you want. I can run to the grocery store.” I place my hands on his shoulders and then immediately move one up to brush the hair threatening to fall into his eyes.
Bain leans into my palm, eyes closed like a cat getting rubbed just right.
When they open, they’re burning with something I’ve come to recognize as gluttony of a different kind.
“You shouldn’t have slipped out of bed so early,” he says, placing a hand on my chest and pushing me back onto the counter.
I wiggle my body as his hands pull at my leggings, my panties sliding down my legs along with them. Bain’s hands press against the insides of my knees, a command to spread my legs wider.
I don’t fight him on it but instead rise onto my elbows so I can watch.
Bain is fascinated with my pussy and has spent countless hours touching me in all ways imaginable. My body tenses as his fingers glide along the outer lips of my sex and then bucks when he glides a finger inside me.
I groan as he curls it, then a harsh breath wheezes out of me when he pulls his finger free and licks it, his eyes holding me captive.