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"Princ—" His eyes widen, and he corrects himself. "King." His gaze drops to my stomach before it travels slowly upward, stopping at my boobs for longer than necessary. They've doubled in size since we've last been together—in November, not the five minutes at his townhouse. It also doesn't help that I'm wearing a work shirt running on the tighter side—Grizz was not prepared to hand out maternity clothes with the bar's logo on it.
Hearing himalmostcall me by his old nickname for me does things to my lady parts that I haven't felt in months. Until I saw him the other night, I hadn't considered being intimate with anyone since finding out about Nugget. Having Wes this close, I fight the urge to step into him, inhale the scent that's so uniquely his.
He doesn't want me, though.
The reminder forms a lump in my throat, and I blink rapidly. A groove forms between Wes's brows as he studies me. Then, he does something that shocks me to the core: he interlaces our fingers and leads me to the employee lounge. Where our hands are connected, a tingling sensation begins to spread until my entire body is aflame.
He lets go of me as he opens the door, and I pass him. Inside, I'm not sure what to do. Why did he bring me here? As a distraction, I aim for my bag sitting on one of the chairs, fish my phone out, andun-casually check my nonexistent messages. I'm acutely aware of him in the room. The soft click of the closing door is like a gunshot in my ears. I refuse to face him. I can't. My heart is pounding against my ribs, but suddenly, there is a new sensation.
"Oww!" I yelp, dropping my phone and cradling my belly.
"WHAT?" Wes is at my side before I can turn. He scans me up and down. "What's wrong? Is she okay? Do you need a doctor?" He fires his questions at me so fast it takes me a moment to comprehend.
Then, it happens again, and my eyes gloss over. Without answering him, I grab his hands and place them on the right side of my belly—just in time. He jerks back, staring at me slack-jawed.
"Is that—?" He breathes, and I nod, unable to speak. Hesitantly, he reaches out and puts a hand gently over the spot where Nugget just stretched my skin to the max—the stinging pain I experienced a moment ago.
Goose bumps spread over my back and neck, and I watch as Wes remains utterly still, waiting. Thankfully, our daughter doesn't leave us hanging. She pushes her little limbs out, and a bump forms under my shirt. Wes's gaze flies to mine, and the moisture in his eyes says it all.
"She hasn't done that before," I whisper. Speaking at a normal volume feels wrong.
"Never?" He studies me skeptically.
I shake my head. "I've felt her, and the doctor said she is perfectly healthy, but she has never stretched like this." I asked my doctor during my last visit if she was okay since I hadn't felt her kick too strongly yet. Her going to town on my organs had been the extent of it—until today.
Wes squats so he's level with my stomach. "Hey, baby girl. I, um… I'm your daddy."
Stretch.
His mouth forms anO, and I can no longer keep it together. Happy tears spill over, and I sob like a blubbery mess. "I'm sorry, I'm just—the hormones." I look at everything but the man in front of me.
"King." Wes straightens, but when I refuse to give in, he takes my chin between two fingers, forcing my head in his direction.
If I see his distaste for me, after talking to his baby and getting a reaction from her, it will break me.
"King," he repeats more sternly.
I don't want to.I roll my lips under, staring at the framed picture of an ancient truck that hangs on the wall.
He grips my jaw tighter—not painfully but showing me that no is not an option. Once he has my attention, he surprises me. Ever so slowly, he begins to lower his face to mine. He pauses less than an inch from me, giving me a chance to move away.
I wet my lips, and his gaze dips, following the movement. I'm breathless. If he thinks I will stop him, he is delusional, but at the same time, I don't dare to breach the distance. Unable to bear the anticipation, I let my eyes flutter closed. I'm trembling and have to force myself to remain still.
The first thing I feel is his warm exhale, and my breath hitches. Oh God, oh God, oh God. Wes moves his hand from Nugget to my arm and lets it glide to my shoulder with the softest of caresses. He draws me closer, and then his mouth is on mine. Fireworks explode behind my closed lids, and before I can stop myself, I moan.
He opens up, his tongue darting out. As soon as he touches his to mine, I can no longer hold back. I cup his cheeks and draw him as close as I can, deepening the kiss. A soft chuckle rumbles in his throat as our little bowling ball creates a barrier between us. Instead of pulling back, though, he walks us to the couch without breaking the connection. He sinks down and pulls me onto his lap. I straddle his hips, and Wes groans as I unconsciously grind against him. My palms land on his chest, and I feel his thudding heartbeat under my touch, mimicking my own.
Wes pulls back slightly, and our eyes lock. He holds my gaze before he places one more kiss on my lips.
We sit in silence, and I can't help myself. I stroke my thumb over his cheekbone. I don't want to get my hopes up. I won't be able to recover if he rejects me again.
"What are you doing to me, Princess?" He studies me intently, and I fight the urge to slide off his lap. Better I decide than him telling me he doesn't want me—that this was a mistake. I start moving off, but he stops me.
"Don't," he orders, and I freeze.
"I—I just…" I stammer, not sure what I'm trying to say.
"Don't." He reaches up, placing his fingers on either side of my head. "I know what I said on the phone, King. This—"
