Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 173392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 694(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 173392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 694(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)
He laughs, and I know I won.
It wasn’t really a big deal to start out. Willow and Mato’s dad is offshore working most of the time, and their mom has odd shifts at the hospital a lot, so I started having them come over here for breakfast. A few other kids started joining them. Kids need a well-rounded breakfast. Maybe if I’d tried not to starve myself so much in high school, I would’ve done better in math, too.
I reach underneath me, stroking my husband and fitting him inside of me.
“I’m getting to be an old man.” He sits up, holding me close. “I can’t have scares like that when my dick is hard.”
I place his hand on my breast. “An older man is the only one who knows what to do with this.”
And I slide his hand down my body that he’s kissed and tasted every inch of thousands of times, because he knows how to appreciate a woman properly.
We kiss, and I sink down on him, but then I stop.
Holding his face, I caress his cheek with my thumb, feeling his eyes on me.
But I can’t look, because if I look at him, I’ll chicken out. “I want a baby,” I say.
He’s silent. I keep caressing, finally forcing my gaze up.
He stares at me, his expression unreadable.
“Can I have a baby?” I ask him.
We avoided the subject for a long time. I wasn’t in any hurry. I had plenty of time, and I loved having him to myself.
But I also know he avoided the subject because he was scared.
I wait for him to argue. Or to make some excuse about why we should wait longer.
Or worse, to tell me he doesn’t want children at all.
He doesn’t say any of those things, though. Taking my hand, he puts it against his chest, over his heart. “Say that again.”
I feel the beat in his chest quicken.
I smile just a little. “Can I have a baby?”
He hardens even more inside me, and gasps, “Yes.” Then he kisses me hard and deep, moving slowly over my mouth.
I start to rock on him, but then a knock hits the bathroom door. “Macon! Krisjen!”
I startle at Trace’s voice, pulling away from the kiss.
“We’re leaving at nine!” he bellows.
I wince. Shit.
Iron. I completely forgot.
I start to move away, but Macon pulls me back down. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“There’s so much to do,” I whine.
Breakfast and backpacks, and I’ll need to log in to check that Mars handed in his assignment because he always forgets. Then there’s groceries to stock up on.
But Macon locks me in, pressing his cock up inside me. “Fuck no,” he gripes. “We pick up Iron today, and then there’s Callumfucking-Ames … This shitshow of a summer starts tonight, and I need another fucking minute alone with you before that.”
He kisses me through my laughter, and our quickie—which never turns out to be very quick at all—commences as I roll my hips and pant on top of him. Iron is finally coming home—after getting an extra four months for bad behavior, and Callum Ames is finally returning, or that’s the word.
It’s going to be a hot summer. If Macon gets through this without going to prison himself, it’ll be a miracle.
He touches my lips with his. “I love you,” he says.
I hug him. “Mine.”