Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
“You’re the pregnant one,” I pointed out. “You’ve got a glow.”
It wasn’t a lie. Nora wore pregnancy remarkably well. There was rarely a point of the day when she wasn’t smiling, humming to herself, or looking out the windows with a dreamy look on her face.
She’d come a long way. Especially considering it wasn’t too long ago that she was engaged to an asshole who made her feel like shit. Even less time had passed since her brother, her fucking twin, had left this earth.
Yeah, it was impressive.
“I don’t have a glow,” Nora argued.
“I’m not someone to say this willingly, but you have a fucking glow,” Tina told Nora. Then she turned to me, pointing with the portafilter from the coffee machine. “You have a glow too,” she said. “Please tell me you’re not pregnant too. Tiffany would lose her shit, and I’d be on my way to the fucking sperm bank.”
“Oh my god!” Nora screeched. “Are you pregnant?” She grabbed my arms. “That would be amazing. We could be pregnant at the same time, and our kids could be best friends, or they could fall in love and get married.”
“I’m not pregnant,” I half yelled at her, as I could see she was getting far too carried away.
Her face fell. “You could be,” she said hopefully.
“I could not be,” I told her firmly.
She pouted at this. “Only a matter of time.”
My spine chilled. “It’s not only a matter of time. We are not having children.”
These past twenty-four hours had been the most I’d talked—or thought—about pregnancy in years.
“You say that now—”
“If she says she’s not having children, she’s not having children. Leave it at that,” Tina interrupted.
I gave her a thankful look. The room had started to get much smaller, and panic had unfurled from a spot inside me that I’d been ignoring for quite some time.
Nora flushed, looking at Tina, then me. “Sorry,” she said. “I guess I’m just wanting to spread the love and happiness.”
“Yeah, like the plague,” Tina muttered from the espresso machine.
I restrained a snort. Tiffany, Tina’s wife, had now decided that maybe they were going to have children. Tiffany was younger than Tina, who was in her mid-fifties, but not by a whole lot, and not young enough to likely get pregnant—even with all the scientific breakthroughs in that area. No one was brave enough to tell Tiffany that, especially not her rock-n-roll-loving, badass biker wife Tina.
“But you do look different,” Nora said as she rubbed her rounded stomach absently.
Shit. She wasn’t letting this go. I couldn’t exactly tell her it was because I’d been fucked ten ways from Sunday last night and this morning, and had more consecutive orgasms than in recorded history.
I’d been married for months. All that shit was supposed to have happened on the wedding night.
“I tried that new serum you got me,” I told her.
Her eyes lit up. “Oh really?” She clapped her hands together. “I didn’t think it was possible for a skincare product to do that.”
It wasn’t.
Kip’s dick was the reason for my youthful glow.
And it seemed I wasn’t going to stop using that any time soon.
Which I knew did not bode well in the long run.
“We have to set some boundaries,” I said.
My position didn’t really help my argument. I was naked on my kitchen floor, sprawled on top of Kip.
Good thing the floor was clean.
It wasn’t like I planned it. But when he came home from work all dirty and sexy, I hadn’t quite been able to control myself.
Granted, he hadn’t technically been able to control himself either. Hence us being on the floor.
He had made promises about eating my cunt. And he’d kept them by lifting me onto the kitchen counter, spreading my legs, and getting to work.
“Boundaries?” he parroted, finger tracing my nipple.
I shivered at the contact.
“Boundaries,” I repeated, voice firm. “I think it’s important we have them since it looks like this isn’t going to be a onetime thing.”
“No way in hell is this a onetime thing,” Kip grunted, tweaking my nipple.
I let out a moan of pain and pleasure, writhing against his naked body until I remembered what the fuck I was talking about again.
“We seem to be living under the same roof, married, and having sex for the foreseeable future,” I said, trying to sound sensible. “But that is not the same thing as married people who live together and fuck.”
Kip’s hand trailed from one breast to the other.
“Mm-hmm,” he hummed.
“Kip,” I snapped.
Blue eyes found mine.
“This could get really fucking messy if we let it. We’re best friends with two people who are going to be together forever, and I’m not planning on leaving this place once I do get my Green Card. We both know this marriage is not forever.”
Kip’s face turned slightly more serious.
“But,” I continued, “we’re both sensible people who don’t seem to be romantics. Therefore, we can be married—on paper—and live together and fuck without it turning into some fucking Hallmark movie with an unfortunate ending that they never actually show. So, we’re going to fuck because it turns out you’re pretty good at it—”