Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 34702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 139(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 139(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
The sweatshirt was one of mine. She’d pulled it on before we left the apartment, muttering something about comfort. I didn’t say a word. I just stood there and admired how fucking good she looked in my clothes. And the caveman inside me beat his chest in smug satisfaction because it branded her as mine.
“Stop staring,” she murmured, not looking up from the magazine.
“It’s what I do,” I said matter-of-factly. I was only half joking since staring at her was one of my favorite pastimes.
Her lips curved into a smile she tried to hide as she flipped a page without reading a damn thing on it. “I look like a blob.”
“You look like you’re mine,” I disagreed. “And glowing.”
“I’m pregnant,” she shot back. “That’s just morning sickness.”
I leaned closer and dropped my voice. “Still the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
She gave a breathy laugh and rolled her eyes, but her cheeks flushed a little darker and her thighs squeezed together. That told me everything I needed to know, and damn if that didn’t tempt me to pull her into the nearest room and fuck her brains out.
Watching her ride me was hot as fuck because she had a slight swell to her stomach now. Not obvious to anyone else, but I could see it. A soft curve just beneath her navel. Proof. Physical evidence that I’d buried myself so deep in her body, I’d left a part of me behind.
I didn’t know how to say it in a way that wouldn’t sound over the top, but I loved this. The shift. The evolution. The fact that her body had already started changing because of me. Because we’d done this together.
I’d loved her before, even if I hadn’t said it out loud. But I was even more obsessed now.
They finally called her name, and I stood before she did, offering my hand. Her fingers slid into mine automatically, and my lips curved into a smile.
The nurse led us into a private exam room, and we did the usual routine. Weight check. Blood pressure. Questions about how she was feeling. I stayed close, not wanting to hover, but still being a steady presence. A fixed point she could reach for if she needed it.
When we were finally alone again, she hopped up on the exam table, her feet dangling in the air. I sat on the chair beside her, stretching my legs out and resting one boot on the floor, the other ankle crossed over my knee.
Her eyes darted around the room.
“Nervous?”
“No,” she lied.
I grinned and shook my head. “You’re a terrible liar, baby.”
She huffed. “Fine. A little.”
I reached out and wrapped my hand around hers, lacing our fingers together. Her skin was warm and soft beneath my palm.
“Everything is going to be fine,” I reassured. “And if there’s something wrong, we’ll deal with it. Together.”
She looked down at me, her eyes filled with uncertainty. “I know, but I can’t help it.”
I could see the fear simmering under the surface. It had been there all morning. She’d been unusually quiet and fidgety, as if she couldn’t quite settle down. Her hands kept drifting to her stomach like she was checking to make sure the baby was still there.
Fucking hell, now I was nervous too.
There was a knock on the door before I could say anything else. Then the doctor stepped in with a nurse trailing her. We’d met her once before, at the initial appointment. An older woman with a soothing voice. She seemed like the kind of doctor who’d seen enough nervous parents-to-be that nothing shook her anymore.
She greeted Marissa, then gave me a nod. “Raiden, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Good to see you again.” She glanced at her chart and smiled. “Twelve weeks already?”
Marissa nodded, swallowing hard.
“Well, let’s take a look.”
Marissa leaned back, lifted the hoodie, and the nurse helped her adjust the waistband of her leggings. The doctor squirted the gel onto her lower belly and pressed the wand against her skin, moving slowly.
The screen next to us flickered, but it was turned away, so I could only see vague black-and-white shapes.
“Hang on,” the doctor murmured, bending to look closer at the screen.
Marissa froze, and her terrified eyes were glued to the monitor as if she could see right through to the front of it. “What? Is it okay?”
I could make out the baby, but something looked different. My heart dropped into my stomach.
The doctor chuckled and turned the screen, angling it toward us so we could see it fully. “Not sure how we missed it in the other ultrasounds, but sometimes they’re tricky and like to hide.”
I blinked, confused and annoyed at the doctor’s cryptic comment, especially because Marissa’s hand had gradually tightened until she was holding mine in a death grip.
“What…” Marissa gulped and tried again. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong,” she replied in a gentle voice. Then she pointed to the shape that was clearly becoming a tiny baby. “There’s one.” She moved her hand and touched the screen where there was another blob. “And two.”