Chapter Eighteen
chapter eighteen
NATE
The second she says okay, I tighten my hold on her and stand, carrying her to her room. Sure, we have things to figure out, but right now, the only thing I want to focus on is giving Paige pleasure. I could feel it when we were kissing, how wound up she was, and I remembered, on several occasions, the way my brother would brag about how horny his wife was when she was pregnant.
At the time, I could’ve done without that info—and I told him as much—but now, I’m thankful for his overshare.
“You wore this little skirt for me?” I ask when I lay her on the bed.
She nods slowly, her eyes filled with desire.
“Did you consider the easy access when you put it on?”
I flip the skirt up, exposing her simple black cotton thong that has a tiny wet circle soaking through the material .
Spreading her legs, I pull my sticky shirt over my head, dropping it onto the floor, and then bring my face right up to her center, inhaling her scent. Fuck, how I’ve missed her. When my nose rubs along the wet spot, Paige groans, wiggling her hips in frustration.
That’s okay because I’m about to make her come so hard that she’ll be more than relaxed.
But first…
“Take your shirt off, baby,” I tell her. “I need to see those perfect tits I’ve been fantasizing about.”
Even in the dimmed light, I can see her face flush, but she does as I asked, lifting her shirt over her head and undoing her bra.
I crawl up her body, my mouth watering at the sight of her tear-dropped tits and dusty-rose-colored nipples.
I don’t waste any time, taking one hardened peak between my lips, while I cup her other tit in my hand, rolling her nipple between my thumb and forefinger.
Paige gasps. “Careful. They’re sensitive.”
I nod in understanding, then change my tactic, circling my tongue around her areola. She sighs in pleasure, so I do it to the other one, making it a point to gently suck on the tip while watching to make sure she’s enjoying it.
As I suck and lick her nipples, she squirms under me, her legs wrapping around my waist and her material-clad cunt rubbing against me, desperate for the friction to get her off.
At one point, Paige moans so loudly from my sucking that I’m almost positive I could get her to come from nipple stimulation alone, but I want more than that. I know firsthand that my woman is a squirter, and I have every intention of getting her to soak this fucking bed.
When I pull back, she scrunches her nose in displeasure, and I can’t help but lean in and give it a kiss. Then, I kiss the corner of her mouth.
“Don’t pout,” I murmur against her lips. “I’m going to make you come.”
I kiss her quick and hard, needing a taste of her, and then force myself to break the kiss so I can give her what she needs.
Wanting to reacquaint myself with her body, I trail kisses down the center of her breasts and her torso. When I get to the protruding area where she’s carrying our baby, I stop and give it a kiss. I’ve wanted to be a dad for so long, and this beautiful woman is giving it to me. She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s already mine, and soon, I’m going to make it official. I’m going to put a ring on her finger and make her my wife, and I’m going to give her and our baby every-fucking-thing.
“Nate,” Paige says, reaching down and gently tugging on my hair. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I chuckle, realizing I was staring at her stomach while I was lost in thought. “I can’t wait to see your stomach grow.”
She snorts out a laugh. “That makes one of us. Growing leads to stretch marks and?—”
“And you’ll still look beautiful, if not more so because they’ll be due to you carrying our baby. You have no idea how much I want this,” I admit, voicing my earlier thoughts. “It’s because of you, I’m going to be a dad.”
Her eyes turn glassy. “Well,” she says through a watery smile, “you kind of had something to do with that. Granted, it was the fun part, but you were still part of it.”
I bark out a laugh, falling even harder for this woman. She’s funny and kind and smart, and I hope our baby is just like her.
“I’m about to have some more fun.”
Before she has a chance to respond, I dip my head and press an open-mouthed kiss to that wet spot that’s only gotten wetter.
I pull her thong down her legs and then spread her lips so I can taste her. She’s dripping fucking wet, and as I glide my tongue up her center, I suck her juices into my mouth, her essence hitting my taste buds like electricity that shoots through me and straight to my cock.
“Oh God,” Paige moans, tugging on the strands of my hair. “Yes, right there.”
She tightens her legs around the sides of my face, and when I lick up her slit again, my beard scratches the insides of her thighs, eliciting a loud moan out of her. I know from our time in England that she loves my facial hair. I do it again and again, each time stopping and sucking on her swollen clit .
She’s close—so fucking close—and when I reach between us, gathering her juices onto my finger, and then push one into her tight ass, she detonates, coming all over my face and the bed. I would love to watch it happen, but I refuse to stop massaging her clit, until she’s pushing my face away, her head moving back and forth as she mutters that it’s too much.
I love satiated Paige just as much as I love turned-on Paige, especially knowing I did that to her—made her come so hard that her eyes are hooded over, and her entire body is lax.
She sighs in contentment, her eyes fluttering shut, and with one last kiss to the hood of her pussy, I climb off the bed so I can go clean up.
“Where’re you going?” she slurs, drunk off her orgasm.
“To clean up,” I murmur, giving her a kiss so she can taste herself on me.
Her tongue darts out, and she moans, loving the taste.
As I’m pulling back, her eyes crack open. “What about you?”
“I’m good, Princess.”
Yeah, my cock is hard as granite and begging to be back where he belongs—in Paige’s tight warmth—but this isn’t about me. It’s about her, and I’ll gladly make her come every time she lets me if it means getting to be with her in some way.
When I get into the bathroom, instead of washing my hands and face, I decide to take a quick shower since I’m covered in her juices and my cock is painfully hard.
I’m soaping my body when the air turns cold, followed by a naked Paige stepping into the shower to join me.
“What are you?—”
The words are caught in my throat when Paige drops to her knees, takes my cock in her hand, and strokes it.
I glance down at her in shock, ready to tell her she doesn’t need to do that, but before I can speak my thoughts, her emerald eyes meet mine as she opens that pretty mouth and damn near swallows my entire length.
I haven’t had sex since England, so, with her wet mouth gliding up and down my shaft, it doesn’t take long for my balls to tighten and me to shoot my load down her throat.
I try to warn her it’s happening, but she never stops, never takes her eyes off mine, while she milks every drop of cum from my cock. Then, like the little minx she is, she gives the crown a small kiss and stands.
“Marry me,” I say, half joking.
Her eyes go wide, and then she barks out a laugh. “That good, huh?” She smirks, knowing damn well what she does to me.
I wrap her in my arms and nuzzle my face into her neck. “I missed you,” I admit, “so damn much.”
Her body tenses, but she thankfully doesn’t pull away. And then she shocks me when she murmurs, “I missed you too. ”
Paige might be hesitant regarding us, but I’m going to do everything in my power to show her that what happened in London was meant to be. Paige and this baby are mine, and I’m going to make sure she knows that.
After we shower, I throw my sweats back on, sans shirt, while she puts on a pair of tiny cotton pajama shorts and tank, no bra.
She offers to wash my shirt, and I take that as an invitation to stay the night. So, while she throws a load into the washer, I clean up the mess from dinner and then meet her back in her bedroom, leaving the shirt she stole from me on her dresser.
As we’re climbing into bed, my phone goes off with a text, and since it’s kind of late, I check it in case it’s an emergency.
Mom: Can you please reconsider coming home this weekend for your dad’s birthday? You can bring Paige.
“Your mom knows about me?” Paige squeaks, having seen the text from over my shoulder.
“Of course she does,” I say, pulling her into my arms. “My whole family knows about you.”
“Oh my God,” she groans, dropping her head into her hands. “They must think I’m the worst hussy ever, hooking up with a stranger and getting pregnant.”
“Hey,” I say, pulling her hands away from her face and tilting her chin to look at me. “Nobody thinks you’re a hussy. Don’t ever say shit like that again. What we had in London meant everything to me, and when we had sex, it was two consenting adults who had feelings for each other…one of whom still does.”
Paige’s eyes widen at my admission. “I do too,” she admits sheepishly. “I never stopped having feelings for you, but that doesn’t change the fact that we live four hours apart.”
“Actually, it does,” I say. “Because it means we’ll figure this all out. Starting with a trip to Dallas.”
“What?”
“You read what my mom wrote. She wants to meet you, and she knows I’m not going without you.”
“What? Why not?”
“Because I meant what I said. I’m not leaving you.”
“You’re going to have to leave me sometimes,” she sasses.
“Probably, but I just got you back in my arms, so it won’t be anytime soon.”
“You should go,” she argues. “It’s your dad’s birthday.”
“Only if you go with me. And trust me when I tell you that they’re champing at the bit to meet you. We’re a close family, one that you and our baby are now a part of.” I run my hand along the underside of her belly. “Be prepared for my mom to spoil you. I swear she’s closer to my sisters-in-law than her own sons, and she barely goes a few days without seeing my niece and nephew. She’s beyond excited to have another grandbaby to dote on.”
When I notice Paige’s eyes have turned glassy, I palm the side of her face. “What’s wrong?” I try to think about what I said that would have upset her, but I come up blank. “Talk to me, please.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, tears filling her eyes and spilling over. “It just made me think about how my mom will never get to meet my baby, and my dad…well, he’s barely a dad, so I have zero expectations of him being a hands-on grandpa.”
“Your mom might not be here, but she’s looking down at you, and fuck your dad. He doesn’t deserve to have you or our baby in his life.”
I swipe a tear that’s resting on her cheek, then lean in and kiss the corner of her mouth. “Come to Dallas with me, Princess,” I murmur against her lips. “My family is going to love you. Hell, I’m almost positive they already do, and if you let them in, they can be your family too.”
“Okay,” she agrees softly. “I’ll go to Dallas with you.”
“Hey, Paige, what’s this?”
I lift up the big black book from the table when she pokes her head out of the kitchen, where she’s making us breakfast and coffee before she heads to work, and I go back to my hotel to shower and get dressed and then meet her at the office to discuss the Kingston Hotel Collection.
“That’s my scrapbook,” she says, disappearing and then reappearing with a tray of food and coffees. “I started it when I found out I was pregnant.”
She sets the tray down and hands me my coffee. We both take a sip, and once she’s done, she grabs the book and sets it in her lap. “My mom and I used to scrapbook.”
“You’d make one everywhere you went, a new page for every adventure,” I recall. When she looks at me in confusion, I add, “You told me about them in England. You guys have never been snowboarding, so one day, when you’re not pregnant, I’m going to take you.”
I shoot her a playful wink, and she shakes her head.
“You remembered.”
“Of course,” I scoff. “I remember everything you tell me.”
She points to a bunch of thick books on her bookshelf. “I still have them all, the scrapbooks…and when I’m missing my mom, I look through them to remember the magic.”
She opens up the book in her lap, and the first picture is of three pregnancy tests—two positive and one negative. “That one’s mine,” she says with a laugh, pointing at one of the positive tests. “Ana and Kira took tests with me. I was freaking out, and even though I already knew I was pregnant, I was hoping I was wrong. ”
She frowns, and I pull her into my arms.
“I wish I could’ve been there.”
“If you had been, I don’t think I would’ve been as nervous as I was,” she admits. “I had thrown away your number and had no way to find you, and the thought of raising our baby alone was devastating.”
“I get it. I’ve always wanted to be a dad, to have a family like the one I grew up in, but I always saw it happening a certain way.”
“Do you feel like you’ve been robbed of that?” she asks softly.
“No.” I lift her chin and look into her eyes that hold so much emotion. “Because it would mean it wasn’t with you, and I’m so glad that what we did in London ended with a baby. It’s just further proof that our time in London wasn’t meant to be over.”
“Maybe,” she murmurs. “But it also means everything else is up in the air.”
“Everything else will be figured out,” I remind her.
“So, who else is pregnant?” I ask, pointing to the other positive test.
“Kira,” Paige says with a laugh. “She’s due four weeks after me.”
“That’s nice you have someone to be pregnant with.”
“Yes.” She grins. “Honestly though, I’ve been so busy at work that we haven’t had a whole lot of girl time. I should text her and Ana to hang out soon. Ana’s throwing a barbecue this weekend, but I’ll be in Dallas with you. ”
“Ask them for a rain check,” I insist. “I want to get to know the people in your life.”
She nods and then turns the page, where I see two pictures of us with the caption Made in London.
“That’s cute.”
“Thanks. I was so thankful I at least took a couple of selfies of us so the baby would be able to see what you looked like.”
“And now, they’ll know me.”
“Because of you,” she says, leaning into my side. “Thank you for not listening to me.”
She goes through page after page, each one documenting a week of her pregnancy. There are images of her belly, her favorite foods, and the sonogram pictures she’s taken from her appointments so far. It’s clear from the pages she’s made how much she already loves our baby, and I have no doubt she’s going to be an amazing mother.
“Make sure you send me the date and time of your next appointment,” I remind her when she closes the book.
I have no intention of leaving, but I still want to make sure that it’s in my calendar so Nolan doesn’t schedule any meetings or phone calls for me during that time.
“Will do.”