Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
So, I give her a wink and a grin. “Well, I got your special right here, baby. Spread those legs and I’ll show you.”
♦
Much, much later…
“How do you feel?” I ask as I cocoon my body around her. There’s something to be said for going slow and taking my time. I never knew gentleness could be so sexy, especially when Rachel became lost to pleasure and begged me to go harder.
“I feel wrecked in a good way,” she murmurs in return, her voice sounding replete, happy, and drowsy all at once.
I tighten my arm slightly around her stomach, bringing her closer to my body. Sliding my hand up, I palm a breast; not for arousal but only for possessiveness. Rachel squirms to get deeper into my embrace.
“My parents are flying in Sunday for a visit,” I tell her, completely expecting the total jerking of her body in surprise. “They always try to come in once a year, do a little gambling. Plus, the Fourth of July is always a good time to visit Vegas.”
“Really?” she asks, her voice a little high pitched.
“They want to meet you,” I continue.
Rachel squirms like a greased pig against my hold, and flips her body to face me. I rest a reassuring hand on her hip and try not to be amused by the panic on her face.
“Why do they want to meet me?” she asks fearfully.
“Relax there, Hart,” I tease, dropping my hand to squeeze her ass. “They want to meet you because you’re carrying their grandbaby. Because they know you’re giving up a part of your life… doing something selfless to give me something, when you could have taken the easy way out. Why wouldn’t they want to meet you?”
Rachel shakes her head in disbelief. “Why do you do that? Why do you make me sound like a hero when I’m not? I’m a woman who is abandoning her child. Do you know how fucked up it is to have you hold me up as a saint?”
“I don’t see it like that, Rachel,” I say solemnly. “You could have terminated the pregnancy and never even told me about it. You could have terminated the pregnancy after you told me about it. No, you’re not a saint, and I personally like the sinful side of you, but you are a good, decent human being. I find no fault with you if you don’t want to be a mom. Plenty of women out there don’t want to be—plenty of women who selflessly give their child up to a loving family—and anyone who thinks that’s wrong is just living in the dark ages.”
She doesn’t respond, just lets her gaze drop to my chest while she nibbles on her lower lip.
“But Rachel,” I say softly, and she looks slowly back up to me. “I don’t believe for a second you don’t want anything to do with the baby.”
She doesn’t agree with me, but she doesn’t deny it either. Instead, she presses her hand to my chest. It touches me deeper than just her skin on mine. It’s a hesitant plea almost. “What did you tell them about me?”
“Just the basics. That this wasn’t a good time in your life. That you’re at the height of your career, and you’re amazing at what you do.”
“Do they know that you and I are…”
“Fucking?” I ask with a grin.
“In a monogamous, sexual relationship,” she counters with a glare.
“Ahh, you admit this is a relationship then?” I tease, my hand now going to her lower back to pull her in closer to me. “Yes… I told them that you and I were… well, together. For now.”
“Until after the baby is born,” she says. I hate that it makes me feel good, but I do like how she sounds glum about the notion.
I need to lighten the mood a little, because Rachel doesn’t need to be stuck too deep into her thoughts. She’s on the right path to figuring this out for herself. I’m confident she’ll get there.
So I say, “They did have a concern.”
“What’s that?” she asks, her body stiffening in my arms.
“They’re a little worried about the age difference,” I say as seriously as I can. “My dad in particular… worried that a woman nine years older can’t keep up with me.”
Rachel just stares at me, uncomprehending such a thing.
“They figure at your age, your stamina probably isn’t what it used to—”
Her fingers give a hard, twisting pinch to my nipple, which causes me to yelp like a girl.
“You’re an asshole,” she mutters, and I laugh that she’s so easily goaded. But then I’m not laughing when her mouth goes to my chest and her tongue eases the sting. My cock awakens and stirs restlessly against my leg.
“If you don’t stop,” I warn gruffly as my hand now moves up to cup the back of her head, holding her in place. “I’m going to fuck you again.”