Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 25205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 126(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 126(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
“I want this every night,” he says, his lips tickling my ear. “You’re the only one I’ll ever want, Grace.”
“Yes,” I cry out as I go off again. And he follows me, growling as he sprays inside me, squeezing my breast like he never wants to let go.
Each shot of his seed amplifies my orgasm. I can’t believe I’m just letting him come in me. I’m not on the pill or any kind of birth control. But that just makes it even hotter.
I could get pregnant.
I probably will.
And how incredible will that be?
9
GRACE
I wake again in Nash’s apartment. This time it’s to the smell of bacon.
I smile and open my eyes to soft morning light filtering in through white curtains. My head feels like it’s filled with cotton, and it takes me a few blinks and several deep breaths to pull myself from the warm embrace of sleep. As I prop myself up in bed, I inhale his scent, and my smile expands, filling my face.
Nash.
My body’s aching again in a delicious way. Stretched, sore, satisfied. And as I remember what we did last night, my skin already starts to heat up.
He made me come twice–no, three times.
What an absolute god.
I sit up and feel something down there–something warm and wet. It takes me a second to realize that it’s Nash’s seed dripping out of me, evidence of how deeply and completely he took me.
Smiling, I place my palm on my belly. Could I…already be pregnant? There could be the beginning of a little life in there. A child. Mine and Nash’s. It’s almost impossible to believe. If you’d asked me a week ago if I’d even consider the idea of getting pregnant, I would have told you that you were crazy. But now I can’t even think of the idea of having Nash’s baby without feeling excited.
The scent of bacon hits my nostrils again. Bacon and coffee and something else. My stomach growls, which surprises me. I was so lost in my thoughts of Nash and the idea that I might be pregnant that I didn’t think anything could distract me.
I step out of bed and pad across the wood floor. One of Nash’s shirts hangs over the door. I slip into it and wear it like a dress as I go downstairs. It smells just like him and is so soft. Yeah, he’s never getting it back.
When I get to the bottom of the stairs, I hear a deep voice humming, along with the sound of cooking. Such domestic bliss. It’s like we’ve been living together for years.
I come around the corner and look into the kitchen where Nash stands shirtless by the stove, his chiseled physique on full display. Only no one gets to see him like this–no one but me.
His hair is messy and damp, like he just ran a wet hand through it. He’s scrambling eggs in a pan with a spatula and another pan with bacon sits on the other burner.
He tilts his head up and sniffs the air, then turns and spots me where I’m leaning against the door frame. “There she is.” He smiles at me with a devilish look in his eyes that makes me think bad things. “Sleeping Beauty has awoken.”
“Could you really smell me from over there? With all that bacon in the air?”
“You smell a lot better than bacon, sweetie,” he replies.
“So you’re a charmer, you fix cars, and you cook?” I ask, walking over to him. “Is there anything you don’t do?”
Nash chuckles, wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me close. I fit just right, like two pieces of a two-piece puzzle. “Don’t forget that I make you come a ton,” he whispers into my ear, sending a shiver through my body.
“How could I forget that?” I ask. He smirks as I look up at him. “You know, you’re nothing like what most girls would expect when they look at you,”
“Oh, yeah?” he asks. “And what do you think they’d expect?”
I shrug. “Someone…rougher, I guess? A barbarian who only eats pizza and drinks beer in front of the TV?”
Nash laughs and kisses me. “Oh, I’m rough, baby. But only in the way you like it.”
I giggle and bury my face in his chest. His scent is like a drug to me. I can feel myself getting wet again already. How am I going to exist around this man and ever keep my clothes on?
“You look good in my shirt, by the way,” he says.
“You mean my shirt?” I tease.
He shrugs, as if surrendering. “Be my guest.” He points to the hem and my bare thighs. “Easier access for me anyway.”
“Nothing wrong with that.” I blush.
He gives the eggs a last scramble with his spatula, then flips them onto our plates. He’s dishing out the bacon when the smoke alarm goes off. He curses and rushes over to the toaster and thumbs up two pieces of toast that are absolutely burnt to a crisp.