Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 61286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
She collapsed against him in a boneless heap. It was still early in the evening, but between their emotional discussion out on the balcony and their vigorous fucking now, Skye was utterly drained and exhausted.
“I can’t move,” she muttered, her face buried against his neck.
He chuckled and held her closer, tighter, against him. “Lucky for you, I’ve got great stamina. Keep your arms locked around my neck.”
She did as she was told as he stood up, shocking her with his ability to do so with her draped against him, and she instinctively secured her legs around his waist, keeping their bodies still joined. “What are you doing?” she gasped.
He cupped her ass in his hands, effortlessly hanging on to her as he strode toward the main suite. “I’m taking you to bed and making sure nothing leaks out on the way. Every sperm counts.”
She laughed, loving that he could be so light-hearted about the baby making process. Everything about it felt so normal and easy with him. But despite having bared her soul, she still held onto the remnants of the pain and her fortitude to be independent and not beholden to any man ever again. Tripp would be an amazing dad to their child, and for the first time she had the thought that she was truly glad that he would be a part of her life, so she had someone to share all the milestones with.
When they reached the mattress, he laid her down and immediately shoved a pillow beneath her hips, which according to her What to Expect Before You’re Expecting book, allowed the sperm a better chance to swim toward the cervix and into the uterus.
She glanced up at him, trying to ignore how hot he looked after their tryst in the living room. “How do you know about the pillow trick?”
“I did some reading up on the best ways to achieve conception,” he said, then waggled his brows playfully. “Wait until you see the way I plan to fuck you tomorrow for the deepest penetration possible. I want to give my swimmers every fighting chance they’ve got.”
She groaned at the thought, but she was smiling. The man was committed, she had to give him that. He left her on the bed and headed to the bathroom to clean himself up, then went to the small kitchenette where he grabbed a chilled bottle of water and returned. He made her take a few sips, and after about twenty minutes he removed the pillow then crawled into bed beside her.
She rolled to her side and he spooned her from behind, his arm tucked securely around her waist and her back aligned to his chest. She was tired, but more content than she could ever remember feeling, and it didn’t take her long to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Chapter Eleven
The following day, after spending a lazy morning in bed with Tripp, followed by hot shower sex, then a leisurely breakfast, Skye was delighted when he presented her with an afternoon at the hotel spa. Much to her surprise, he’d purchased their most luxurious package, which included a manicure and pedicure, a facial, a massage, and a decadent body scrub and polish.
By the time she’d returned to the suite after a good five hours of pure indulgence, she felt relaxed, pampered, and rejuvenated. Her skin glowed and was smooth and soft to the touch, she smelled like honey and apricots and any lingering tension in her muscles had vanished. And just because she’d felt a bit daring, she’d had the nail technician paint her toes and fingers a vibrant shade of red.
When Tripp greeted her after her lavish spa day, her stomach grumbled hungrily. It was late afternoon, and he insisted they get out of the suite instead of ordering in again, so they decided to head down to the lounge for happy hour appetizers and a drink.
He changed into a pair of casual black slacks and an olive green linen shirt, and she opted for a classic little black dress that was subtly sexy, showing just a hint of cleavage and leaving her legs bare. But the hot, hungry, appreciative way that Tripp looked at her when she walked out of the bedroom set her body on fire.
They arrived at the lounge early enough that they were able to grab a small booth off to the side near the bar. They sat side by side instead of across from one another, and after ordering a few appetizers and their drinks were delivered—a refreshing ginger-orange mocktail for her and a Macallan neat for Tripp—he moved closer to her.
“God, you smell good,” he said, his tone husky as he nuzzled her neck, inhaling the scent of honey and apricots still lingering on her skin from the final spa treatment. “I just want to eat you up.”