Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 43540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
“You’re pregnant,” he cuts me off. He hasn’t moved a muscle, and it’s freaking me out.
“I am.” Tears rush down my cheek.
“Like, for real, pregnant. You’re not fucking with me?”
“Please don’t be mad,” I sob. I suck in a quick breath when he rips me from my chair into his arms.
“You’re fucking pregnant,” he repeats.
“Yeah.”
His eyes drop to my stomach. They linger, emotion welling in his eyes. “We’re having a baby.” He whispers. Then he screams, “We’re having a fucking baby!” He twirls me in his arms, his smile creating another wave of tears. “God, I love you. I love you so damn much. Thank you.”
“For what?”
“You. This gift. Our perfect life. I’ll never have enough time to show you how much you mean to me.” He kisses me with an intensity that sends shivers down my legs and curls my toes. “Love you, Cal.”
“Love you, too.”
He pulls away and, with a serious look, asks, “Thank fuck. Does this mean we get to go on a martini hiatus?”
He may have regretted the promise of drinking martinis with me in his speech that day.
“Not a chance. Someone has to keep up the momentum.”
If I thought Easton was protective over me before, being pregnant with his child took it to a whole new level. He was this dominant creature, wanting to slay whoever came near his woman. But put a baby inside her, and holy smokes, he became a fire-spitting dragon. A hot fire-spitting dragon. It was such a turn-on. God, we had sex on every single inch of our apartment. My cheeks flush at all the places outside, in public, at bars. The list goes on and on. Easton was a powerhouse, and I was most definitely there for the ride.
Until now.
When he tells me no.
“So, you’re gonna let me drive or what? If not, I can always find someone else who’ll let me. That cute guy working at the general store, maybe.” His palm presses to the middle of my back. It doesn’t take much for my skin to become heated. His hand lowers and massages the palm of my ass, then slaps me.
“I know what you’re doing here, babe.”
“Do you?” my voice cracks.
“Remember when you used to talk shit just to piss me off so I’d do this?” His palm makes contact again, and I grunt. “You used to get me so worked up. I’d see red imagining anyone looking at you, let alone touching you. You’d tease me, and it killed me.”
“Maybe you should just let me drive then.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t, and we take a pass on going up to the cliff and me fucking you in the snow.”
God dammit! He’s got me here. Snow sex is the best sex. “Nah, that would be dumb.”
His chest rumbles, and he lets go of my lip, kissing the tip of my nose. “That’s what I thought.”
I open my mouth to argue, but he puts his finger against my lips. “And since I know what my wife wants, I’m going to let her drive.” He raises the key to the ATV and dangles it in front of me. “And if she goes a sliver over fifteen, snow sex is off.”
I snag the keys before he changes his mind. “You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Cruz, but I accept the offer.”
He always wins. My sexy, perfect man.
My forever.