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And since my accident and Kip’s rapid change in behavior, he’d been determined to dive into the devoted-husband role. Then there was all the sex we were having… all over the house, at all hours of the day. It was clear he loved his mother, but he also knew her well enough that she would take up a lot of time and attention—time and attention that would be better served for sex.
And then there was also the underlying tension of family drama left unsaid that I was infinitely curious about but refused to ask about because learning more about Kip would only tangle me up in the man further.
I was already plenty tangled.
“Okay, yes, so you didn’tplanyour mother’s visit,” I conceded, staring at my glass of organic sparkling juice, wishing it was a Paloma. “But all ofyourbrainpower isn’t going toward growing another brain, bones, and limbs, so you likely deduced that converting the guest room into a nursery would leave you with nowhere to sleep,” I snapped.
A flash of guilt went across his face.
I pointed at him. “You totally did realize that!”
He sighed in defeat. “I might’ve realized that.”
“So, you took advantage of my baby brain in order to make sure the nursery was too far gone once I realized, and then you’d have to sleep with me,” I hissed. “Well, forget that. You’re sleeping on the fucking couch.” I stood up, intending on storming out to my bedroom. Then I looked at the pan, the smell of meat cooking actually appetizing for once. I plonked back down in my seat. “You’re going to keep cooking my burrito, but you’re not going to speak to me.”
Kip nodded once, miming the zipping of his lips.
But the fuckergrinned.
* * *
I was tossing and turning in bed.
It was late.
I couldn’t be sure of the time.
I couldn’t be sure of anything except that my sheets were too heavy, my skin was too sensitive, and my thighs needed friction. My pussy needed friction.
My pussy needed Kip.
Or, more accurately, Kip’s dick.
At first, I thought I could power through it. I mean, I’d gone through the majority of my life without Kip’s dick. I could surely survive one more night.
Then the minutes ticked on. The fuckinglifetimesticked on.
I tried to take matters into my own hands, literally speaking, but my climax eluded me. My attempts only served to make me more frustrated.
“Ugggh!” I groaned, kicking away my pregnancy pillow and wrenching myself out of bed.
I stomped all the way to the living room, where Kip was lying awake, reading yet another baby book in the lamplight.
He pretended to look surprised to see me.
“Are you okay?” he asked, sitting up.
“No,” I grumbled.
His expression turned to worry, his features pinching as he surged up from the sofa, rounding it in an impressive handful of seconds.
His hands went to my stomach protectively. “What is it?” he demanded. “Do we need to go to the hospital? I’ll get my keys.”
“Jesus Christ,” I exclaimed, grabbing hold of his wrist so he couldn’t rush off to find his keys and bundle us both into his truck in our underwear. “I thought you were meant to be some serious badass former Marine or whatever. Shouldn’t you stay a little more calm under pressure?”
He glared at me. “If there were a handful of insurgents openly firing on this cottage trying to penetrate it, then I’d be calm as fuck,” he responded.
“Okay, what if Iwantpenetration?” I purred, holding his wrist tighter so I could attempt to pull him close to me.
