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Just like I tried and failed to live on my own last year. It turns out I have no actual skills, and it’s damn hard to get a job with no experience when you’re twenty-one.

Six years to go—or I can have a baby.

Who needs condoms?

We do. Because he’s not a sperm donor, he’s a guy who has a few short days of leave and wants to spend them having normal, not-baby-making sex.

I should probably have some experience with the latter myself before I consider bringing a child into this world.

I should just wait the six years, probably. It’s just—

“Everything okay, Abigail?”

I turn off the water and shove the curtain aside.

Justin’s gaze darkens as he takes in my clean, slippery body.

“Got a little lost in my thoughts,” I say breathlessly. “Can you pass me a towel?”

He hands one over, and I wrap it around myself, then step out of the small tub.

“Out,” he growls, looking like he wants to chase me again.

I smile, my spiral of self-pitying thoughts gone, replaced by the very here-and-now desire to push those bratty buttons and see if he might want to spank me more. “But you watched me.”

He leans in, a very effective loom over me, and grinds out, “Little girls who watch Daddy in the shower might get hauled into the tub to be used for their slippery parts.”

A wave of crude arousal courses through me. “So that’s more of a tomorrow activity, then?”

I leap out of the way as he mock-snatches for me.

“Good to know what you like, Abigail,” he calls after me as I sprint for my backpack, and the security of a fresh pair of panties.

I like the way he says my name. Like a threat and a promise at the same time.

I’m still grinning when he finds me curled up in his bed ten minutes later.

He strolls in wearing a towel low on his hips that doesn’t hide the fact he’s erect, then peels that off, giving me my first look at him fully naked.

His body is a work of art. Thicker than I expected, his core heavily muscled, and dusted in golden hair in all the expected places. And then darker hair, in a clear line just below his belly button, leading to a thick cock that looks definitely too big to fit in my body.

But it makes my mouth water in a new and startling way I would not have expected.

Have sex, yes, I want to do that. That’s the precursor to having a baby, which is on my mind constantly.

A little person who I can raise all on my own, without the rules of the trust or the annoying trustees, because I will be the trustee.

If the way to get a baby is by getting too close to that delicious-looking appendage—putting it inside me?—I’m not sure.

Do I want to suck on it? More than life itself.

Do I want it inside me? Mmm, not sold on that idea yet.

“Abigail.” I love that thread of urgency in his voice as he says my name, low and rough.

“Yes?”

“My eyes are up here.”

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