Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 125866 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125866 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
As much as it hurt to lose them, to know that, likely, I’d never had much with them to begin with… it healed me to know that I had a family of my own now.
I had Madelyn.
I had Sebastian.
I had a daughter on the way.
I had my teammates and their girls, with a second generation growing already.
Madelyn and I weren’t out of the woods yet. We still had many battles ahead of us — starting with Marshall and the impending court date. But one thing I knew for sure was that there wasn’t a war we wouldn’t fight together, side by side, no matter how dire the outlook.
And I believed with all my heart that we would win in the end.
Later that night, when the house was asleep, Madelyn climbed into bed and curled up to me with her teeth chattering.
“It’s snowing again,” she said, her voice filled with wonder.
Then, she pressed her ice-cold fucking feet between my calves.
“Jesus, woman!”
I tried to pull away, but she doubled down, tucking herself into my chest and wedging her feet into whatever warmth she could find. “I’m pregnant! You have to keep my feet warm.”
“You sure are quick to pull that trump card nowadays,” I teased her, but I was already wrapping her up tight and rubbing my legs together to give her feet a little friction.
She shook her shoulders and purred like a cat as I kissed her hair, smiling against it once she was settled.
“You looked pretty hot with a baby in your arms,” she said.
“Oh?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Getting wet for me as a dad already?” I teased, and I snaked a hand between her thighs like I was going to investigate.
She swatted me away on a laugh, but then she was climbing on top of me, apparently not worried about being cold any longer. “Don’t act like I haven’t always been wet for you.”
“You weren’t earlier this summer,” I argued, pinning her hips as I rolled my erection against her.
She groaned and fisted her hands in my shirt, leaning down to kiss me as she rocked her hips again.
“Just because I hated you didn’t mean I didn’t want you to rail me into next year.”
“You would have killed me if I’d have tried.”
“I guess we’ll never know, will we?”
I swatted the side of her ass, and then we were laughing and kissing and shedding clothes despite the frigid temperature outside, and the way the heat in our room struggled to keep up.
Soon enough, we made our own fire in that bed, Madelyn fitting me to her entrance and sliding down as we both groaned and held onto each other for dear life. I’d never had a time I didn’t thoroughly enjoy fucking this woman, but watching her ride in the moonlight reflecting off the snow outside with her belly swollen with my child unlocked a whole new kink for me.
I let her ride me long and slow until she found her release, and then I gently rolled her to the side so I could enter her from behind and let my hands explore her heavy breasts, her round stomach, her slender thighs and silky hair and wet, hot mouth.
I came with her name on my lips and a desperate, primal wish in my heart.
That she would be safe and healthy.
That Sebastian and our baby girl would be, too.
And that in a month’s time, we’d take her ass cactus ex-husband out by the knees and watch him burn.
Marshall would never hurt her again. He’d never get the chance to hurt my son.
Those were vows I knew I would keep.
One thing I knew for sure was that he picked the wrong motherfucker to test.
And now, Papa Bear was going to rip him to shreds.
January
Madelyn
I thought my hands would be shaking.
A million times, it seemed, I had played out what I imagined this day would be like in my mind. I had imagined everything from trembling fingers and a weak, shaky voice, to me breaking down into complete hysterics.
But instead, here I was, twenty-six weeks pregnant with a steady, calm heart and clear, focused mind.
I’d survived.
I’d survived hellish failures at mediation, and months and months of being civil with Marshall when he was nothing but nasty to me and Kyle both.
I’d survived Sebastian clinging to my legs not wanting to go to Marshall’s house, battling with the love he felt for his father, but the obvious lack of love his father felt for me.
I’d survived holding my son and soothing him after he had to endure on-camera interviews with the judge, his Guardian Ad Litem, and both our attorneys to tell his side of the story, to make his voice heard in this case.
I’d survived the presentation of evidence — everything from text messages Marshall had sent over the years, to photographic proof of him laying his hands on me. Marshall’s friends, who swore they were my friends, too, had testified against me. His colleagues had attested to his upstanding character. And though my parents had testified the opposite, I wasn’t sure how that would hold. I couldn’t read what the judge was thinking as he listened and watched and analyzed.