Total pages in book: 14
Estimated words: 12901 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 65(@200wpm)___ 52(@250wpm)___ 43(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 12901 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 65(@200wpm)___ 52(@250wpm)___ 43(@300wpm)
“She went home,” he says.
I pull back to look at Thomas, really getting a good look at him now that we are in the hallway. The light shines down on both of us. I reach up to touch a small cut that’s on his eyebrow. I know it wasn’t there before he left. I know every part of this man’s body.
“You’re okay with her and Eli?”
“I want her to be happy. Just like I know she’ll want me to be happy, too,” he tells me as he swings open the door to his room and carries me in. He sits me on the bed and walks over to the chair in the corner of the room, pulling it closer.
I knew he’d be okay with Maggie and Eli. I had a feeling he knew something was going on between them from the start but didn’t say anything.
He puts the chair next to the bed, but not close enough for me to reach out and touch him. I hate the distance. I want to go back to being in his arms. The nausea grows, and I know what will come. This baby has all the control, and he seems to like his father’s smell. Why they call it morning sickness I have no freaking clue. I’m sick all day.
He sits down in the chair and leans forward with his hands on his knees. I can see him gripping them tight, the white starting to show in his knuckles. His face is hard, something I’m not used to. He’s always so sweet and soft with me. I both hate and love it. He thinks I’m breakable, and it’s true. Look at me now. It’s pathetic. I can’t go a day without crying or feeling like I might snap.
“Are you mad at me?” I half whisper, hating the idea. I don’t recall him ever being upset. Even when he’d push for us to come out as a couple, he never seemed angry, only disappointed.
His face softens a little, the lines around his eyes showing. If it weren’t for the lines and his gray hair, I don’t think people would notice much of an age difference between us. But maybe I’m wrong. Everyone always says I look younger than I am.
“No, sweet one, I’m trying to keep from touching you.” I scoot a little more toward the edge of the bed, my body moving on its own. It’s always been that way with him. My body and heart. My brain is the only one that seems to get in the way of us.
He narrows his eyes but cocks his head to the side. A small smile pulls at his lips as he watches me. “Don’t tempt me. You’re already wearing my shirt and not much else. Have mercy on an old man.”
“You’re not old,” I mumble. He’s not even forty yet. He also doesn’t act old. He has more energy than I do. That man keeps me up all night sometimes. My face heats at the reminder.
“See? No mercy. Now you’re blushing, and you know what that does to me.” I can’t stop from glancing at his cock, and I blush even more when I see he knows where I’m looking. I miss making love to him. Feeling that utter closeness, it’s addicting. “I’ve been without you almost a month.” His words are pained. “Not touching you right now is harder than those weeks in the jungle fighting to get back to you.”
I rise to go to him, but he puts his hand up. “Sit down, sweet one. I won’t be able to talk if you’re in my lap.”
I nod and reluctantly sit down. I desperately want to be close to him, but I don’t know what he’s been through these past few weeks. I’m sure it was worse than mine, and that makes me feel terrible.
“Fuck, don’t do that to me. You know I’d give you anything I can. Give me a minute. I want to get us straight. Get everything out and tell you how things are going to be from this point on.” His tone is firm, which is still not normal for him when it comes to me. A little bit of worry creeps up my spine. “But know this, no matter how this conversation goes, your little ass is here. One way or another, before the sun rises, you’ll be agreeing to marry me.”
My gaze drops down to my stomach, covered by his oversized shirt. I’ve been wearing his clothes every night since he left, oftentimes sneaking into his room at night to sleep, trying to smell him on the sheets.
I want to throw myself at him, tell him yes, I’ll marry him. I’ve wanted to say it every time he brought it up before. He’d never actually asked, just always said it was going to happen. Sooner rather than later.