Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74256 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74256 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
“Take me. Take what you need. I’m already close, just feeling your skin against mine.”
“It’s going to be quick, but I promise you, I’ll make love to you all night long.”
“Then you better fuck me first.”
“Hold on, wife.” My hands move to her ass as I grip them tight. She squeals when I lift her up and bring her back down on my cock. “I fucking missed you.”
“This—and you,” she pants.
I grin as I plant my feet and slam her back down on my cock. Her head rolls to the side, her hair falling down her back. I want to bury my fist in it, but right now, all I can do is grip her fine ass and pull her down on me over and over again.
This is heaven.
This is my future.
“Chad— Oh!” she moans. The sound comes from somewhere deep in her chest.
“Tell me what you need, baby. I’m close.” Tingles race down my spine, and my balls tighten. I’m barely hanging on. I can’t come before her or without her.
I. Just. Can’t.
“There. Right—there. Yes. Yes. Yes!” She screams the last one, and her pussy clamps down on my cock. The pressure is the most perfect fucking feeling, and I can’t hold on. I release into her as she holds onto me, and we both ride out wave after wave of pleasure.
“Welcome home, husband.”
“I love coming home to you, wife.”
“Forever.”
“Forever, baby.”
EPILOGUE FAITH
Faith
March
This weekend has been absolutely amazing.
Shayne is the most beautiful bride, and I’m certain I’ll never forget the way my brother looked at her when he first spotted her walking down the aisle. It was the type of scene you read about in romance novels. They were pronounced husband and wife, had a million photos taken, enjoyed a delicious meal, and are now wrapped up in each other’s arms as they sway to another slow song.
And me?
I’m gently moving to the beat with my own arms wrapped around the man I love.
My husband.
There’s no place else I’d rather be, except for maybe naked in bed with him, but we can get to that later.
Smiling, I keep watching my brother and sister-in-law. Part of that is because they’re so stinking cute and lovey-dovey, but there’s another reason. Every time I look at my husband, I want to blurt out the secret I’ve been keeping since right before we left to fly home for the wedding. As much as I want to tell him, I don’t want to ruin anything for anyone else, so I’ll keep my mouth shut until we get home.
“What’s wrong?” he murmurs, his warm breath tickling my ear.
“Nothing,” I insist, letting him pull me closer against his hard body.
He gently places his fingers below my chin and lifts so our eyes connect. The moment they do, a wave of guilt sweeps through me, and I almost blurt it out.
Suddenly, we stop dancing, and he takes my hand in his. He escorts me off the dance floor and out the door of the reception venue. The cool March air hits us, and a chill slides through my body. We walk to the side, away from the door, and stop. He spins around, taking his suit jacket off and hanging it over my shoulders. The warmth feels good, and I instantly give him a grateful grin.
“Thanks,” I tell him, breathing in the scent of his cologne clinging to the jacket.
“Always, love.” He levels me with a stern look. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”
I open my mouth and shake my head. “Nothing’s wrong. I promise.”
“But there’s something. I can tell.”
“How?”
He flashes me a cocky grin. “I know my wife. I can tell when something’s bothering her or causing her concern. You worry your bottom lip, which you’ve been doing all weekend. So, what gives?” Chad pulls me into his arms and places a kiss on my forehead.
I sigh, relaxing into his embrace. “I wasn’t going to tell you until we’re back home Monday,” I mutter, resting my cheek against his chest.
“Tell me now.”
I meet his concerned gaze. There’s no way he’s going to let this slide. Straightening my spine, I speak the words I’ve been holding on to since I peed on the stick Thursday morning. “I’m pregnant.”
His face remains completely impassive for what feels like a thousand years, but in reality is probably two seconds. It’s as if realization hits him when he whoops and hollers in excitement and throws his arms up in the air. He smiles widely, picks me up around the waist, and spins me around twice. In the excitement, his suit jacket falls from my shoulders.
“You’re pregnant? Really?” he asks the moment he sets me down on the ground.
“Yes,” I tell him, laughing.
Chad slams his lips against mine, kissing me soundly. “I can’t believe it,” he murmurs, reaching down and placing both hands against my still-flat stomach. “My baby. My baby and my wife.” He’s smiling so big, it might border on painful.