Chapter 38
. . .
Vesper
May
Julian pokes his head around the staff room door, empathy plastered across his face when he catches me with a hot water bottle resting on my pelvis.
“Why don’t you head home, Ves?”
Seated in the most uncomfortable chair ever, I tip my head toward the ceiling and release a pained groan. Pelvis girdle pain is no fucking joke, and I’ve been suffering with it for weeks now.
Twenty-nine weeks pregnant, and I’m officially on the struggle bus.
It doesn’t matter how many warm baths Silas runs for me, new pairs of sneakers he buys, or the countless physical therapy sessions I’ve attended, it just keeps getting worse.
“Give me ten minutes, and the Tylenol will kick in,” I say through gritted teeth.
Julian doesn’t look convinced, but I’m too stubborn to go home.
“What time does your shift end?” he asks.
I gaze at the clock set above the door.
Christ, another four hours.
“Eleven p.m.”
He quirks an unimpressed brow, thumbing behind him. “It’s quiet out there now that the Rogues are out of the playoffs.”
My heart sinks at the memories of last week.
Rhys was so fucking close to stopping that puck before it crashed against the inside right post and hit the back of the net.
I think, for a time, we all believed that the Rogues could go the distance.
In the end, they reached game six. I know Silas is proud of how far they’ve come as a team, but I could see the disappointment in his eyes during postgame interviews.
He wanted to lift the Cup so freaking badly.
I close my eyes and drop my head to the table in front of me when another stabbing pain shoots through my lower body and my phone vibrates next to me.
With one eye cracked, I peer at the screen.
“Just let me know if you need anything, okay?” Julian says before he disappears.
“Thanks,” I croak out, head still resting on the table as I pick up my phone and open the text messages.
Silas
You should be at home with me.
Me
That’s nothing but a pipe dream. For at least the next four hours anyway.
Silas
You’re exhausted, and you need to stop pushing yourself so hard. That baby bump of ours isn’t going to get any smaller.
Me
I’m actually having a good day today; the pain isn’t as bad.
Silas
Don’t lie to your boyfriend, baby. I know you’re hiding in the staff room right now.
I pick my head up, checking around the staff room in case Silas magically appeared.
Wishful thinking, Ves.
Me
How could you possibly know that?
Even after months of dating this man, I feel like a teenager, flirting with the hottest boy in school.
I pin my bottom lip between my teeth, watching Silas type out a reply.
Silas
Because I’m standing at the bar and you aren’t here.
Me
Caught me.
I’ve barely locked my phone before I hear Silas’s familiar footsteps getting louder as he heads toward the staff room. It’s funny how we memorize every element of the person we love, even the way they walk.
I hold my breath, waiting for his handsome face to appear in the doorway.
“Is that water bottle even hot anymore?” He steps into the staff room, plucking it from my bump. “Ves …” he drawls, setting the cool bottle down on the table.
Almost instantly, I’m sitting next to it, and Silas is standing between my thighs. He takes my head in his hands and brushes a kiss across my lips. My eyes flutter shut, and I fight back a yawn.
“Come home and curl up on the couch with me.”
The yawn eventually breaks free as I go to reply, “I can’t leave Julian on his own. He’s the only other staff member on tonight who can mix cocktails.”
“With the greatest respect to cocktails”—Silas kisses my jaw, and I melt into his body—“I don’t give a fuck who gets served a Manhattan, cosmopolitan, or a margarita. You are exhausted. Every night, I feel you tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable in bed.”
He smooths a palm over my large bump, and I find myself wondering whether we’re having a boy or a girl. Truthfully, I don’t much care. I’m having Silas’s baby, and that’s all that matters.
Dropping the I’m fine facade, I let my head flop into his chest before I blow out a sigh that’s been building inside me since the first day I started experiencing pelvic girdle pain.
“Why did no one ever tell me how hard pregnancy would be?”
Silas wraps his arms around my body in a bear hug I absolutely needed.
I can tell by the black track pants and training top he’s wearing that he came here straight from the gym.
The entire hockey community constantly talks about Will and his commitment to the sport, and they’d be right; he is an incredibly dedicated athlete.
Whereas Silas Stanton will go about his business in quiet, racking up gym time behind closed doors and even in the offseason.
He deserves to lift that Cup one day, and I’ll be the first one on the ice to celebrate with him.
He sets a kiss in my hair and pulls me into his arms. “You know what I’ve learned about life and especially over the past five months?”
I gaze up at him, turning his baseball cap backward. “What’s that?”
He just smiles in a way that renders me so weak that I’d collapse in a heap if he wasn’t holding me up.
“That nothing good ever comes without a struggle or a fight. I had to fight for you, Vesper, and now I’m going to be the happiest man for the rest of my life.
This baby …” He drops to his knees in front of me and hitches my red sweater to just below my bra.
My stomach is covered in stretch marks, but Silas kisses each one like they’re the most precious thing on earth.
“I know it’s taking a toll on your body, and I know you’re trying to push through each day like it’s a blessing to be pregnant in the first place.
” He plants a kiss below my belly button.
“But it’s okay to ask for help once in a while or to admit that you need to slow down when your body is telling you to.
I can support you. Whether you quit working now or need some time to recuperate.
I swore that I’d give you everything, and that’s what I’m going to do—if your stubborn ass would let me. ”
As it transpired, my “stubborn ass” finally gave in and let Silas take it home to lay on the couch and feel sorry for itself.
Only I couldn’t feel less sorry for myself if I tried. How can I when I have a hockey-playing god between my thighs, eating me out like he’ll never get to taste me again?
A languid swipe of his tongue through my already-sensitive pussy has me crying out his name into our darkened living room, thrusting my head back into the cushions. He’s already made me climax twice, and now I’m tumbling into a third high.
With one hand resting over my swollen stomach, Silas pushes a black silicone vibrator inside my entrance, switching it to its first setting. Between his mouth on my clit and the vibrations pulsing through my core, I won’t last thirty seconds like this, and I’m not mad about it either.
I’ve never had the kind of sex I have with Silas, but then again, I’ve never let my guard down in a way that’s allowed me to relax into the moment. The feel of his mouth, the touch of his fingers as they caress my aroused body—it all massages away the pain I was feeling earlier today.
Silas has a habit of soothing away discomfort—emotionally and physically.
“You look so fucking sexy like this,” he praises, hitting the next setting on the vibrator.
My hips buck, and all I want is his cum.
“Fuck me,” I plead.
“Maybe in a little while,” he teases against my pussy, circling his tongue around the sensitive bundle of nerves.
I crash over the edge—an unstoppable tidal wave of pleasure and emotion overtaking every inch of me.
He was right to return to my apartment that day and ask me not to take Plan B.
And he was right when he said that the fire burning inside me had been doused by the man currently serving eighteen months in prison for breaching his restraining order with assault and the intention to cause bodily harm.
My boyfriend’s lawyers made sure Kane got the maximum sentence conceivable.
Hopefully, with some time behind bars, he’ll take stock of his life and start treating people with respect when he’s eventually released.
Although I won’t be one of those people because Kane Giles will never see me again.
“Silas,” I breathe out, voice a little unsteady from my latest orgasm.
He crawls up my body, bracketing me in with his forearms. Addictive blue eyes shine with mischief and a need revealing that he isn’t nearly done with me tonight.
“What’s the matter, Knockout? Does this pussy want my cock?” He reaches down between us and gently presses the vibrator a little deeper inside me.
“I’m in love with you.” My heart thumps wildly against my rib cage, urging me to hand it over to the one man who has proven himself worthy of my trust. “With every inch of your existence.”
His lips fall to mine, although he doesn’t kiss me immediately. He just smiles like nothing—not even lazy sex on the couch—could beat the words I just uttered to him.
Pulling out the vibrator, Silas drops it to the floor and brings me into his lap. He’s only wearing gray boxer briefs, and I can’t help but marvel at the way his toned torso ripples as he maneuvers me so I’m straddling him and we’re face-to-face.
“Do you want me like this?” I ask, lifting up so he can lower his briefs and slide inside me.
For a beat, he doesn’t move. His weighted gaze feels heavy and different.
“What is it?”
He doesn’t respond either, looping an arm around my back to steady me.
Silas leans forward and pulls open one of the drawers in his coffee table.
The one where I keep my coloring books and pencils.
“You want me to color?” I question, almost amused at the switch we’ve taken.
Thirty seconds ago, I was sure where tonight was heading. Now, I’m a little confused.
Silas picks out a coloring book I haven’t seen before, and I gasp when I take in its cover.
It’s the image of a car driving through Italian cobbled streets, the one I colored.
That day Silas saw this picture, I felt like something shifted between us.
I’ve always used coloring as a time to shut down and hide away from the world.
I never expected it to be a catalyst between me and the man I love.
“Did you …” I reach out and take the book, still totally naked and not caring one bit that I am. “Did you have my work printed?”
I go to open it, but he stops me with a gentle hand over mine.
“I contacted the original artist and asked if I could print his picture for private purposes, and then I showed him the way you’d brought it to life. He was really impressed, Ves. He said that you had a real talent with your use of color. In fact …”
Silas’s hands guide mine to the first page. There’s an email inside, and from reading the first few lines, it’s clear that it’s from the artist himself, Claude Hastings.
“Oh my God …” I gasp again, taking in the rest of the email. “He wants to collaborate on a project?”
Silas nods once and turns the page. Two first-class tickets are pinned to the inside, the outbound flight to Rome leaving the day after tomorrow.
“So, you know that cobbled street on the cover?” His voice sounds shaky as he speaks.
“Turns out, it’s a real place in Trastevere, Rome.
Claude lives there, and he would love to meet with you to discuss his next publication.
” Silas scratches at the back of his head, lips twisting with uncertainty.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d feel up to traveling or if this was something you wanted to pursue seriously, but I went ahead and bought the tickets anyway. ”
My lips crash down on his, an excited whimper rising up my throat.
“I’ve never been to Europe,” I whisper against his mouth. “I’ve only ever seen a few states in the US. I was convinced that my passport would go to waste.”
Silas pulls back, a bright smile creasing around his eyes. “Well it won’t go to waste. I want to show you—and our baby—the whole fucking world.”
I giggle and nuzzle into the crook of his neck, my bump brushing against his abs. Whenever our skin touches, it feels like a thousand fireworks are exploding in my belly.
“But our baby isn’t born yet.”
“But when they’re born, I can show them the pictures of where Mommy and Daddy took them while they were still nestled safely inside you.”
I melt like a Popsicle left out in the sun.
“You haven’t finished turning pages yet,” Silas breathes against my neck.
Eyes narrowed with suspicion, I sit up and pull the book from my lap. “What else do you have up your sleeve, Mr. Stanton?”
I don’t miss his deep swallow or the way he glances briefly at the book and then back up at me.
“Why don’t you turn the page and find out?”
Keeping my eyes trained on his, I let the next page fall open, anticipation swirling inside me.
“Take a look, Ves. Tell me, what do you see?”
It takes my brain a good few seconds to catch up with my eyes. But when it does, the tears begin to flow.
I’ve come to realize that this entire book is likely blank, aside from the email, tickets, and the handwritten message from Silas.
The one I’m looking at right now.
The one that asks me, in the simplest way, to marry him.
Beneath the message is a yellow gold ring with an oval-cut red gemstone set into it.
Silas pulls the clear tape holding the ring in place and pinches it between his fingers.
“I don’t know whether to scream, laugh, or keep sobbing,” I say, shaking my head in disbelief.
He chuckles, relieved at the elation in my voice.
As if I was ever going to say no.
“How about you go ahead and try it on for size?”
I hold out my left hand, now giggling like a freaking schoolgirl.
Silas slides the ring onto my finger. It’s a little loose, although it won’t fall off, and he doesn’t look concerned.
“When I had this made, the jeweler advised that your fingers might swell as your body grew our baby. And since I never want you to take my ring off, I figured we could adjust it after you gave birth.”
The tears continue to tumble as I stare down at something so beautiful. “Is it a ruby?”
Silas rubs his thumb across the gemstone until it really sparkles. “No. It’s a red diamond. The rarest of all colored diamonds.”
My breath catches in my throat. “I don’t even want to know how much this cost.”
He pushes a piece of hair behind my ear. “Way more than those Gucci bags. Say yes, Vesper. Spend a life with me and our baby. Let me love you in the way you were always supposed to be loved.”
I nod before I can speak. “Yes,” I croak out, throwing my arms around his neck. “So much yes.”
And in the blink of an eye, the coloring book is tossed onto the coffee table behind me, and I’m lying down on the couch again, my new fiancé hovering over me as he hooks a thumb under the waistband of his boxer briefs and pushes them down his legs.
“How’s the pain?” he asks, taking my left nipple into his mouth and sucking gently, feeding on my release.
I moan and fist his thick cock, guiding it toward my entrance. “Totally nonexistent.”