Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 37200 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 186(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37200 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 186(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
“Hi, Mrs. Hudson,” Ezra’s assistant welcomes me as I step off the elevator on his floor. They each have their own floor, an assistant, and a team. Even Parker and Boston, though because Parker prefers to work from home, his assistant keeps everything moving like a well-oiled machine. Boston’s the same way, except he’s now in New Orleans. The guys love and hate it. They’re okay with it because he’s happy and no longer underneath his father’s scrutinous eye. The only reason they hate is because he’s not here when they feel like grabbing a drink or have an emergency meeting.
“Hi, Madeline. Is he busy?” I ask, lunch and coffee in hand, another added bonus the Books and Brews launched—pastries, muffins, and sandwiches are now added on the menu, making it easy on customers, me included, when I decide to stop in to see Ezra.
“Nope. Even if he were, you know Mr. Hudson would have me cancel whatever was going on to make time for you,” she states.
“That is true, thank you.” I walk past her desk, not knocking but using my elbow to open the door before Madeline can get up to help me. She does so much already. Plus, I’ll have to get used to multitasking once our little one is born. I use my hip to push the door open, walk a few steps inside, use the bottom of my foot to close it, and head toward my husband. Ezra is sitting behind his desk, on the phone, a look of annoyance written on his face until his eyes lock on me. I tip my head to the side as I walk, noticing his suit jacket is off, sleeves of his shirt rolled up, which shows off his muscular forearms. It has my pregnancy hormones raging with desire.
“I don’t care what it takes. Handle it. I’m not reachable for the next hour.” He hangs up the phone, not waiting for an answer on the other end of the line, or that’s what I’m assuming.
“Bad day?” I ask once I’m close to his desk, setting the reusable bag with our food and the cardboard carrier with Books and Brews to-go cups down, all of it recyclable, another change I ensured.
“Not anymore. This is a treat. Come here, sunshine.” He puts his phone down and pushes his chair back. I do as I’m told, mostly because it’s where I was heading anyway. Plus, add in that tone of voice, and I’m instantly wet and ready for him.
“I’m here. Now what are you going to do with me?” I arch an eyebrow at him. His hands wrap around my hips, lifting me up without him so much as moving until I’m sitting on his desk in front of him, thighs spread, causing the light and flowy dress to slide up.
“Oh, there’s a lot I’m going to do to you, but first, I’ve got someone to say hello to.” Ezra does this daily, first thing in the morning, if I see him in the middle of the day, and always before bedtime.
“Your child is giving me heartburn today. Do you think you could talk to him? I could really use a morning of not having to drink apple cider vinegar.” Nothing else works. Milk, which is gross, but it was worth a shot, and antacids didn’t touch it. The only thing that did was apple cider vinegar, which is gross, too, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
“I’ll see what I can do.” With that, he moves his hands away from my hips and slides them to the hem of my dress, because Ezra only talks to our boy when my stomach is bare. I lift one hip up, then the other until I’m gathering the fabric with my hands as more skin is bared to his watchful gaze. “Christ, Millicent, I’ll never get used to this. Seeing you like this, watching our child grown inside of you, it’s fucking awe inspiring.” He moves his chair, widening my thighs even further, and takes a deep breath, sure as shit smelling the desire that only he can awaken. My eyes watch as my husband dips his head and places a kiss on my stomach. “Hey, bud, you being good to your mom? Try to simmer down on the heartburn for me. Kissing her after she drinks that crazy concoction is weird as shit.” He places another peck on my stomach.
“Ezra.” He tips his head up to look into my eyes.
“I’m going to have my dessert first, sunshine.” And I’m not going to deny my husband, especially when what I crave all the time is him, any way I can.