Chapter 28 Penelope

TWENTY-EIGHT

PENELOPE

Jameson’s grip on my hips was ironclad.

We were standing in the shower, my arm up around his neck, holding him to me as he fucked me from behind.

My left foot was lifted, set on the small corner slat where my shampoo sat twenty minutes earlier.

Our slick bodies moved against each other, his hands cupped my breasts, and his lips were on my neck, still whispering filthy things while the hot water hit our backs.

This whole thing started when we arrived home from the dinner party, and Jamie kept touching my ass. I told him it was causing a mess between my legs. He had smirked and said, “let me clean that up for you.”

He’d had me on the counter, my back flat against the surface, half my hair falling over the sink as he tossed my legs over his shoulders and began licking me clean. Once I came, and he cleaned that too, he picked me up and set me in front of the shower.

“Now get in the shower, Mrs. King, and show me how you clean that perfect cunt.”

His mouth was going to be the death of me.

I’d stripped, he watched, looking starved and then his mouth was on mine.

We’d stumbled into the water, and our limbs were a chaotic mess of desperate touches and grasps as bottles of shampoo, conditioner and body wash fell to the floor.

He’d pushed my back against the wall as he fucked me slowly, and then adjusted us, so I was on my knees.

From there, we were lost to our lust, and with each touch, every thrust of his thick cock that slid inside me, I shut my eyes and tried to keep the glowing feeling close to my heart.

I believed that he wanted this, wanted me…and even my son, but I was still hesitant to completely accept it.

I was so ready for the other shoe to drop; it was creating a mess of emotions that were always waging war like a thousand tiny soldiers, throwing daggers and knives—pricking my heart and spearing my soul with longing and hope.

So much hope that tears were starting to brim every time I even looked at Jamie.

Tonight, at the dinner party, I glanced over at him and something primal had screamed in my head: Mine.

I wanted him to belong to me, and I wanted to be his.

So when he spoke to me with that heavy lust coating his voice, I wanted to wrap it around my lungs, breathe it in and then drown in it. I was completely in love with him, and my poor tortured heart was a wary thing, terrified of the damage he could do.

“You still hungry at all?” Jameson was still catching his breath from his orgasm. I had no idea how many we’d had in the shower. A small smile ghosted over my lips as I wrapped myself in a large, fluffy towel and watched him wrap its matching pair around his hips.

“No, just tired. I want to snuggle in bed and watch something.”

He gave me a warm smile and then turned to brush his teeth. I walked into the room and pulled on one of his shirts, then slid into bed.

Jamie flipped the switch to the bathroom, and then grabbed a pair of boxers.

The bed dipped when he sank into his side, but he hesitated on the edge instead of slipping under the covers with me.

“Wanted to ask you something.”

I had my cell in my hand, navigating around a post about postpartum dieting when my eyes flicked up.

“What’s up?”

He finally twisted, so he was facing me, his knee bent and his hand stretching out, so it covered my stomach. It was the first time he’d ever touched my stomach like that, and it had my heart dancing in my chest.

Warm fingers slid under my shirt and prodded around my belly button, gently pushing.

“Would you mind if I—” He faltered for a second, and to encourage him, I placed my hand over his. Those warm brown eyes landed on mine as he moved his hand lower. The baby kicked, and Jameson’s mouth dropped open while his hand flew off my stomach.

“Holy shit.”

Beaming, I reached over and retrieved his hand. “Come back, he’s still kicking.”

Jameson came closer, his warm palm sliding over my skin, shifting in all different places. The baby kicked a few more times, and then Jamie leaned down and pressed his cheek there.

“Hey little guy, you in there?”

My eyes burned with happy tears as I slid my hands into Jameson’s hair while his face remained against my belly.

“We can’t wait to meet you…you’ll have to help us settle the debate on what to name you. I think Connor is a pretty cool name, but your mom likes Cruise. I personally think in twenty years, you’ll really hate your life if everyone is calling you Cruise King. It’s horrible.”

I started laughing, which made my son kick again. Jameson peered up at me with a smile that couldn’t be matched. I had never seen him so happy.

“I want to be in there with you…”

My chest felt as though it grew wings, ones large enough to fly past the moon, and strong enough to withstand the sun. Fat, hot tears slid down my face, sticking to my lashes as Jameson continued, unaware that he’d rendered me speechless.

“When he comes into the world, if you’re okay with it—I mean, it’s okay if you’re not, I—”

A rasped whisper rushed through my lips, cutting him off, “I love you, Jamie.”

Oh my god, I’d just said that out loud. My face burned red as Jamie just sat up, his mouth gaping, staring at me.

“You don’t have to say it back!” I yelled, then covered my face with my hands. I was never going to live this down.

I didn’t dare look to see what Jamie was doing. “It’s just the hormones, the pregnancy…it’s—I’m not myself. So, please don’t make a big thing of it, okay?”

I still refused to look at him, but I felt him move. He slid over to his side of the bed, letting out a tiny laugh. “Got it, Pen. You’re good.”

My hands slowly came down, my face still burned.

Tiny pricks of sorrow pierced my chest, but I ignored them. It wasn’t enough that this man guilt married me, or that I had to beg him to fuck me to make it official, now I was thrusting the L word onto him. Jesus.

I needed to give him a little space.

Leaving my phone behind, I grabbed my pregnancy book and slipped out of bed.

“I’m just going to go read for a bit in the living room.”

Jameson didn’t move from where he was turned toward the wall, but I saw his hand come up in a gesture that he’d heard me.

I clicked off my light, left my cell plugged in and abandoned ship, seeking refuge on the salmon-colored couch.

I shut the door behind me, so the lamp wouldn’t wake Jamie, and then I sat there and read the same passage of text at least thirty times before I finally gave up and fell asleep.

I needed a girls’ night.

After I woke up on the couch, sore and cold, regardless of our quilt being tucked in around me.

I took a nice hot shower and decidedly chose not to notice that Jameson hadn’t woke me.

The coffee was still warm in the pot, so he had to have woken up earlier, and how I didn’t hear him while sleeping on the couch, or feel him tuck the blanket around my body, bothered me.

Someone could likely sneak in and murder me, and I’d never even know.

When I walked outside, I finally found my husband. He was installing the car seat into his truck. I glanced at the space next to his truck, seeing his bike, but my Camry was gone.

“Where’s my car?”

Jameson’s head poked out from the back door, his light hair all disheveled and messy, the way I liked it.

“About that…”

I spun back toward the empty space where my car was usually parked. “About what? Where is it?”

“Gone,” he muttered, and then pulled his cell out.

“Jamie, I need a car…”

His face was still down, examining his phone.

“I know, babe…but—” His face lifted right as a sleek, silver SUV cleared the hill from the direction of the Chaos Kings.

It slowed right as it approached the cabin, and then parked next to Jameson’s truck.

My arms were tucked in over my stomach as Brick slid out of the car.

“My queen.” He jokingly bowed toward me, before laughing and walking toward me, holding out a key fob.

I accepted it with a quirked brow. “What is this?”

Brick looked back toward Jameson, seemingly confused. “Your new rig.”

Jameson was slow to walk over, but once he did, he merely grabbed another infant car seat from the porch that I had missed and veered toward the back of the SUV.

Brick smirked again, then started back toward the house over the hill.

“Thank you, Brick!” I called after him, and he waved his goodbye.

“Jamie.” My arms were still tucked in close.

My husband was busy pulling straps and trying to adjust the car seat in the back, while muttering curses.

“Jamie,” I called him again, and finally he slid out of the car, pushing his hand through his hair.

“Did you buy me a new car?”

He glanced back over at the SUV. “It’s safer.”

Fuck, this man would be the death of me.

Battling tears once more, I took the few steps between us and threw my arms around him.

His large hands landed on the small of my back and slid lower until he was cupping my ass.

“Thank you.”

“You’re my wife, you don’t need to thank me for these things.” His face came into view, and then his fingers were trapping my chin so he could kiss me.

I kissed him back, forgetting that I had told him I loved him last night. I nearly bit him in a new effort not to say it again. But my heart screamed it.

I love you.

I love you.

My chest sang it, screamed it, shouted and agonized over the reality of it. I’d been falling for Jamie since I was thirteen and he’d handed me that pudding cup.

“I’m going to The Hollow tonight with Laura, Callie and Natty. I guess she wants us to see all the new upgrades Killian did to the place.”

Jamie swiped his thumb over my bottom lip before heaving a sigh. “I’m sending Brick and Harris with you. I have to head to Pyle for some business.”

I nodded and then pressed a kiss to his chest. “I’ll call.”

Right as I pulled away, Jamie’s hand lingered on mine. “Pen.”

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