Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 173733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 869(@200wpm)___ 695(@250wpm)___ 579(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 173733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 869(@200wpm)___ 695(@250wpm)___ 579(@300wpm)
“You know what your problem is?”
“Like I said, tell me.”
“You prepare brilliant opening statements. You. Alone. I don’t even help you beyond listening to the final product and offering a tweak here or there.”
“Well in advance, and I don’t have that luxury now.”
“You don’t have the luxury of doing it any other way. Nothing I just read was you. Unless you need to work on additional prep, I think you should send them home and do this your way.” She glances at the clock on the stove. “It’s only six, Reese. You could spend the next four hours, working on this, and still get a good night’s sleep to be fresh tomorrow.”
I thrum my fingers on the counter. She’s right. I push off the island and walk into the living room. “You two, go home or somewhere else. I need to do the opening statement on my own.”
A few minutes later, they’re gone and my wife points up the stairs. “Bedroom. That’s where you pace, while I write, and magic is made.”
I grab her and pull her to me. “You’re the magic.”
“You were magic in the courtroom when I met you, Reese. I watched you work your magic on a jury while you worked it on me right along with them.” She takes my hand. “Come on. You start to work and I’ll order dinner.”
Three hours later, we’ve both changed into sweats and we’re now sitting in our favorite spot, the couch in front of the window in our bedroom, eating pizza, and I’m feeling so much relief. Thanks to Cat centering me, I have one hell of an opening statement all but a few tweaks from ready for tomorrow’s trial. “When can I hear it?” Cat asks for the third time.
“Soon,” I say, taking a bite of my pizza.
“I can’t wait,” she says, picking a green olive off her pizza and setting it aside. “I love reading your openings. I love watching you deliver them even more.”
I frown. “You aren’t eating the olives? You love olives.”
“They taste funny.” She motions to the pizza. “Taste one.”
I laugh. “They taste funny so you want me to eat it?”
She crinkles her nose. “Probably not a good idea the night before your trial.”
I shut the pizza box and set it on the floor, pulling her leg across my lap. “This is where I proposed to you.”
“Yes. It was. I remember being naked when you set the ring on my stomach. I love that part of the story even though I can’t exactly tell it.”
I caress her cheek. “Two years, Cat.”
“Going on three.”
“And in those years, we’ve been inseparable.”
“I like that about us.” She frowns. “You like that about us, too, right?”
“How can you even ask that? You know I do.”
“Then why do I feel this is leading somewhere?”
“Because it is. I know you, Cat. What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing bad,” she says. “In fact, something good now. I have a secret project that I’m working on and it wasn’t going well. I had a breakthrough.”
“What secret project that I don’t know about?”
“It’s a surprise and something I want us to finish together. I don’t want you distracted right now. The minute your trial is over, I’m going to hand it to you to read.”
“I can read it now.”
“No,” she says. “Not with the hell you have going on.”
“Cat—”
She presses her lips to mine. “It’s not a big deal. I was just in between projects and needing a purpose. The trial and this new project I’m working on will do that. You need to work on your opening statement.”
I roll her to her back and settle on top of her. “I can’t imagine a trial without you in the audience, writing about the case.”
“Me either.” She slides her hand to my face. “You know what would turn me on right now? And I mean like really turn me on?”
“Tell me,” I say, sliding my hand under her perfect backside.
“For you to read me your opening.”
I groan and press my forehead to hers. “You’re a slave driver.”
“Yep. Up. Read. Work.”
I kiss her and sit up, but I’m more than a little curious about the secret project that my wife won’t share with me. Something still doesn’t feel right.
It’s a feeling that doesn’t go away. It’s near midnight when I’m holding Cat next to me, inhaling the sweet scent of her body lotion that she favors at bedtime, and I make a decision: Tomorrow night I’m reading her special project.
Cat
I wake to my husband’s hand on my belly, and I smile sleepily for a moment. Then my eyes pop open and I wonder if my belly feels bigger. It’s not a thought that lasts though. How can it? His hands are now all over my body, his mouth on my nipple, and his fingers pressing into my sex. I moan and then he drags me to my back, and the next thing I know, he’s between my legs, licking my clit. I have another of those strange moments when I actually wonder if I taste differently now that I’m pregnant. It’s a silly thought that fades into his tongue on my clit, his fingers pressing inside me again, and my orgasm that is perhaps world record fast. I can’t help it. There is just something so sexy about the fact that I’m having this perfect man’s baby.