Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
She squealed. “My favorite!”
“So do I just scoop the ice cream into the bowl and put the chips on the side? Or do I crush them up like sprinkles?”
“Like sprinkles,” she said, laughing. “But I can get it. I have to use the bathroom anyway.” Setting the blanket aside, she stood and stretched. She’d taken her cardigan off earlier and wore just the tank top now, and it hugged the curves of her upper body. For the first time, I noticed that it wasn’t just her belly that had grown. Her breasts were bigger too.
My mouth watered.
Turning away, I headed for the kitchen. “I’ll get it. I like when there are things I can do for you.”
“Thank you,” she said, hurrying toward the bathroom. “I’ll be right back.”
While I scooped vanilla ice cream into a bowl, I thought of other things I could do for her. With my hands and my tongue and my cock.
Then I had to hope she wouldn’t notice the bulge in my pants when she came back into the room.
When the movie was over and her ice cream bowl was empty—I’d watched her lick that spoon with envy burning in my gut—I switched off the television. “Well? What did you think?”
“Adorable. I love nostalgic movies like that.”
I smiled. “Good.”
She put her hands on her stomach. “You can watch it with Nicky someday.”
I nodded, my eyes on her belly. “That would be cool.”
“I think the sugar and salt woke him up,” she said. “He was still during the movie and now he’s moving around.”
“Can I feel?”
“Sure,” she said, scooting closer to me and taking the blanket off. “Here.” She took my hand and placed it over to one side of her belly. “This is where I feel him kicking.”
I molded my palm to her firm, warm skin but didn’t feel anything. She pulled her shirt up and pushed the panel of her jeans down like she had yesterday afternoon, but I still didn’t feel those little feet. We gave it a few minutes, Mabel moving my hand around in different spots. I started to grow warm beneath my clothes, the heat gathering between my legs.
“He’s messing with me,” I joked, trying to keep things light. “Or you are.”
“I’m not! I swear to God, he was all kickety in there just before you put your . . .” She looked up at me. Her lips were so close to mine. I stared at them, and she tucked the bottom one between her teeth for a second. “Your hand on me,” she whispered.
A few inches. That’s all it would take.
She could lift her chin. I could lower my head. Our mouths would meet. She’d taste sweet and salty, and I’d stroke her tongue with mine. I’d put my hand in her hair. She’d touch the back of my neck. We’d lay down on the couch, and I’d—
I’d what? Violate the trust she had in me to be a good guy? To treat her with respect? To honor the boundaries she’d set?
I took my hand off her. “Maybe next time.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, her expression disappointed.
“It’s okay.” Rattled by how close I’d come to kissing her, I stood up and took her ice cream bowl to the kitchen sink and rinsed it.
Mabel rose from the couch and stretched, sending a current of desire surging through me. “I guess I’ll go to bed.”
“Okay.”
“You have practice in the morning?” she asked, walking slowly toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms.
“We skate at ten. But it’s a game day.”
“Oh, that’s right.”
“What time will you leave tomorrow?” I picked up a dish towel and dried my hands just to have something to do with them that did not involve touching her.
“I’d like to get on the road by nine.”
I nodded. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Okay.” She stood there for a moment, then lifted a hand. “Good night.”
I stayed right where I was, not trusting myself to get any closer to her, let alone hug her good night. “Night.”
Her shoulders dropped a little as she disappeared into the hallway, and I exhaled, bracing my hands against the edge of the sink, head hanging down.
Turn off the lights, go to your room, and stay there, I warned myself. You are not allowed to come out. You are not allowed to knock on her door. You are not allowed to touch her.
You will ruin everything.
Summoning all my discipline, I did what I was supposed to do. And when my apartment was dark and silent, I didn’t even glance at Mabel’s bedroom door to see if it was closed or open, if the light was on or off, if she was still in the bathroom or already in bed.
Closing my own bedroom door behind me, I used the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and undressed. Naked, I got into bed and pulled the covers to my waist. Lay on my back and stared at the ceiling. Thought about her. Imagined what I’d be doing right now if the circumstances were different between us. I couldn’t bring myself to wish she wasn’t pregnant—I already loved my son—but I did wish that whatever this was I felt for her would mellow into something other than bone-crushing desire.