Chapter 20 Jensen #2
Mia fixes him with a look that is no longer polite. In fact, it’s positively glacial. “I don’t think we are and I’d prefer to keep things between us professional.” He flinches like she’s struck him and my mouth twitches into a smug smirk.
Have that, you slimy motherfucker.
“I didn’t mean to imply—”
“I’m having dinner with my husband on our anniversary. This is incredibly inappropriate. If you want to talk about commissions, the gallery is open from nine in the morning. Juno will be there to discuss whatever you need.”
He blinks like she’s told him to join a cult. And I’m hard as stone under the table.
Watching my wife in action like that… Fuck. She’s never looked more powerful than she does right now. Swollen belly, hair and makeup, her dress giving her soft edges.
Landry’s cheeks heat. He didn’t think she’d push back. He expected her to be compliant, to be too polite to tell him he overstepped.
Pride swells in my chest.
“I didn’t mean any offense,” Landry mutters. “I just haven’t found an artist I like as much as you, Mia. My apologies. Your last series was so profound and thoughtful.”
Mia glances at me, and I read the look she gives me easily. She wants me to step in now, and I am more than happy to oblige.
“You heard my wife. You can talk business tomorrow.”
There’s a flicker of irritation in his eyes that he covers quickly. Good. Be pissed.
“Right. Sorry. It was good to see you again, Mia.”
She doesn’t reply, just watches him walk away before she turns to me.
“On a scale of one to ten, how close did you come to punching him?” Her eyes dance with amusement.
I wanted to hit him the moment he said her name, but I keep that to myself. “Zero. I knew you could handle yourself.”
She stares at me like I’ve grown two heads. “Thank you for trusting me.”
“I always trusted you, Mia. Always. But if that asshole pushes you again like that, I’ll take over every single business he owns and liquidate them before he can blink.”
Dinner is amazing, but my only focus is on her. She dominates every thought, every feeling I have until I get her back to the penthouse safely.
Theo leaves us at the door, and I watch my wife walk slowly into the kitchen. She’s sore. I can tell by the way she walks, favoring one side more than the other. The way she rubs absently at her side, like that’s going to help.
I slip in behind her as she’s closing the fridge, and I press my thumbs into the small of her back. The bottle of water she grabbed is slid onto the counter, forgotten, and she lets out a wounded whimper.
“Oh, don’t stop.” Mia melts under my hands, her body loosening.
“You’re tense, beautiful.”
“Your daughter is sitting on every nerve in my back,” she complains.
My lips twitch just a fraction—not because my wife is in pain. I would take every ache for her if I could, but because of the reminder she’s carrying our family. Our world in her body.
Getting her pregnant had been the only thought that consumed me for months, but now that she is, it’s opened something even more primal inside me.
I want to keep her like this forever. I love the way she looks, how she feels under my hands.
She’s never been more perfect than she is with her belly round and full.
I keep massaging, working out the knots and the tension beneath my touch. I kiss her neck, loving the way she leans into me. “Let me take off your shoes.”
She doesn’t argue when I lead her over to the couch and guide her onto the cushions.
I crouch in front of her, unbuckling her shoes with a slow steadiness I don’t really feel.
Her skin is warm and soft under my fingers, like the silk of her dress, and when I slip the first one off, I lift her foot and kiss her ankle.
I remove the other one, pressing my mouth again over the red indentations left by the strap.
She’s looking at me like I’ve handed her the universe, and yet all I’m doing is taking care of someone I love more than life. I would burn every connection, every dollar I’ve earned, all of it as long as I get to keep her.
My hands rest on her thighs, and she stifles a yawn. I snort. “Okay, beautiful. Time for bed.”
“You can’t send me to bed like I’m a child.”
“I can when you’re barely keeping your eyes open.”
I stand, and I pull her up. Barefoot, I’m always aware of how tiny she is compared to me. How easy it would be for someone to hurt her, to take from her. It’s why I work so hard to keep her protected. If anything happened to Mia—and now this baby—I wouldn’t survive it.
And I know I’m hard to deal with. That I’m suffocating even when I don’t mean to be.
I’m so grateful that she loves all the parts of me, even the bad ones.
I lead her into the bedroom and sweep her hair over her shoulder so I can unzip her dress. Inch by inch, she’s revealed to me until the fabric is a pool of silk at her feet.
I swear my heart stops when she turns to me.
She’s wearing black lace panties that sit beneath her bump, and no bra.
I could devour her right now, eat her pussy until she is screaming my name into the pillow.
It’s what I want to do, but I look at her—my perfect, beautiful wife, and I see the exhaustion in her eyes.
I see how much tonight depleted her energy supplies, so I kiss her forehead, lingering against her skin for longer than I should.
Then I grab one of my tees from the walk-in and I gently guide it over her head.
Her belly presses tight against the fabric, the hem brushing the middle of her thighs, and she snuggles into it like I’ve given her the greatest gift of all time.
I lead her over to the bed and she watches as I undress.
When I climb in behind her, I pull the covers down under her bump and push her shirt up just below her tits.
I need to see her, to feel her. Claim her again.
Landry’s a prick she wouldn’t give air space to, but that run in with him is still sitting under my skin.
I trail my fingers over her belly. She has a new stretch mark, close to her hip. I bend to kiss it, just as I have every single one that’s appeared during this pregnancy.
“You’re growing again,” I remark.
“I’m going to get even bigger.”
I brush my mouth over another just under her belly. “Good. It means our daughter is growing strong.”
Her eyes soften as she stares at me for a beat. “I like how you look at me when I’m pregnant,” she whispers.
Color rises in her cheeks, as if she didn’t mean to say that.
But I know what she means. I can’t stop looking at her like she’s mine. Like the entire world begins and ends with her. I could get lost in her sweet heat for the entire nine months she’s growing and I’ll still want to put another baby in her the moment she’s able to carry again.
“You’ve always been beautiful, Mia, but the way you look right now does something to me I can’t explain. I want to protect you even as I want to fuck you until you don’t know if you can take more.” Her lips part in a gasp and I kiss her belly, feeling our daughter shift beneath my mouth.
“I can’t believe she’s going to be here soon.” She threads her fingers through my hair as I continue to kiss and worship every inch of her bump.
“She’s going to be perfect, just like her mama.”
Mia rolls her eyes just a fraction. Just enough to let me know she’s not really pushing back. “She’ll be perfect, but I’m far from that.”
I grunt, giving my answer to that ridiculous statement. “I wish you could see yourself the way I do.”
We lie in silence, comfortable between us, both of us feeling our daughter wiggling in Mia’s belly.
Eventually, she speaks again. “We need to think about the nursery.”
“Already taken care of.”
She blinks at me. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve got a designer coming over at the weekend. You tell her exactly what you want doing, pick out what furniture and colors you want, and she’ll make it happen.”
She blinks again. “You… You hired a designer?”
I shrug, kissing her belly again. “You were getting stressed about it, so I fixed it.”
She grips my hand, stilling it on the side of her bump. “I wasn’t stressed. I mentioned this morning that we should think about setting up the nursery, and you’ve already arranged a designer?”
I kiss her temple. “Of course I did. You’re not allowed to get stressed about anything. Not even for ten hours.”
She laughs, then turns serious. “I mean, her stuff will be in the nursery, obviously, but I want her to sleep at the side of the bed, where I can keep an eye on her. I don’t like the idea of her being too far away from us.”
My heart swells in a way I don’t expect. Knowing she loves our daughter this much already only adds the insane attraction I have for my wife.
“Then that’s where she’ll sleep.”
Mia snuggles into me, her bump pressed against my side. I love how it feels, how she feels. She’s soft in places she wasn’t before her pregnancy.
My wife.
My obsession.
My legacy.
All fucking mine.