Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 85443 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85443 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
"I need to tell you something..."
"That's almost as irritating as you asking if you can ask a question, you know," he told me and I felt myself smile a little. His being a bit of a dick at times still somehow managed to comfort me in a weird way.
"Okay. Fine," I said, looking down at him. "I'm pregnant."
There was no shock on his face. There were no wide eyes. There was no slack jaw. Actually, there was no response at all for a long minute. Then a small smirk I couldn't interpret pulled at his lips. "About fucking time you told me."
"You knew?" I asked, slapping his arm.
"Babe, when you started singing that fucking Aladdin song to your stomach, I figured you were either going batshit fucking crazy... or pregnant." He paused, giving me a softer smile as his hands squeezed my knees. "Why did you wait to tell me?"
"I don't know... we've never really discussed kids..."
"There's a lot of things we've never discussed that have ended up being great. Not the least of which being: whips, belts, handcuffs, floggers," he paused, getting more serious, "your baking career. Not everything needs to be talked about to death. We don't have to plan for everything. We can take shit as it comes."
"So you want to have this baby?"
"Fuck yeah I want to have this baby. So long as it gets those eyes," he said, giving me a rare gushy compliment that made my heart do that swelling thing again.
"And doesn't get your potty-mouth," I teased.
"You love my potty-mouth," he declared, making me snort then giggle at the words 'potty-mouth' coming out of someone like him. But then his hands pressed my legs wide and yanked, making my belly plummet and my heart lodge up into my throat as I free-fell for a second before landing on Byron's lap, his arms going around my lower back.
"Yeah, I guess you have a point," I agreed with a smile. "Actually," I said, leaning down and planting kisses up his scruffy neck, "I might just love everything about you."
"Well, that's convenient," he said, his voice already getting sex-rough. "Because I might love everything about you too," he agreed, his hands roaming up my back as his lips found my ear. "But that fucking battle over the closet is so not over."