Chapter Twelve
Turning onto my stomach, I untie the strings of my bikini top. I don’t actually care about tan lines, but when in Rome, or your backyard I guess, you might as well take advantage. It feels weird to be swimming and lounging around the pool on a random Tuesday afternoon, but that’s life post-graduation. I’m giving myself a few weeks to relax before I look for a job. One of my professors hooked me up with a reference to an old colleague of his, so I’m not too worried.
“Hey,” Wyatt says as he sits on the chair next to mine. He’s been MIA the past few days, and I realized I don’t even have his phone number to contact him.
I lift my head, blinking at him as I fold my arms in front of me so I can rest my chin on them. “Hey.”
His lips twitch. “Having a relaxing day?”
“Don’t you have work or something?” I ask, more curious than annoyed that he’s here randomly.
He shrugs. “Not really. My father helped me invest my money young, so I don’t have to work much to sustain it.”
My eyebrows furrowed. “I didn’t know you were rich. Makes sense though, my mom has always had a type.”
Wyatt rolls his eyes, leaning over to play with my strings. “I brought you some lunch if you’re hungry.”
I purse my lips. “You’re always feeding me. If I didn’t know better, I would think you’re trying to fatten me up.”
Standing up, he offers me his hand to pull me up and I take it. His thumb brushes across my nipple and I shudder as it hardens to an almost painful point. He reaches behind me, ties my string, and as I stand there letting him, my gaze roams over his face. I want to kiss the pale pink lips before me.
“I like taking care of you, and that includes feeding you,” he says before smirking and sliding his hand down to squeeze my ass.
“Where have you been?” I ask, leaning into him. He taps my ass one more time and then lets go, entangling our fingers.
“Let’s eat and I’ll tell you,” he says and leads me inside, where there’s a whole buffet of Chinese food in cartons on the counter.
I moan, my mouth watering. “Oh my god. It smells so good.”
He pushes me toward a stool with a chuckle. “Sit, I’ll make you a plate.”
Sliding onto the stool where he directed, my stomach grumbles as I watch him scoop handfuls of food for me. A secret part of me likes him taking care of me, if I want to be honest. It’s just a hard adjustment after a lifetime of taking care of myself.
He sets the plate in front of me and then moves to make himself one before settling next to me. I don’t wait for him as I pick up my fork and shovel some fried rice and orange chicken into my mouth. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.
“So, my lawyer thinks he finally found enough reason to get the annulment.”
I chew slowly and then swallow, turning to look at him. “Is that where you’ve been the past few days?”
He nods. “Yeah, I was going over it with them. And… preparing for the aftermath.”
Frowning, I set my fork down. “Aftermath?”
Wyatt cracks his knuckles and then shrugs. “I assumed you would want to leave with me, out of this house.”
A warmth spreads in my chest. “Are you asking me to move in with you?”
He smiles. “Yeah, baby. I am.”
I go to hug him when my stomach turns and bile immediately rises in my throat. Clapping my hand over my mouth, I run to the sink and vomit the tiny bit of food I had eaten.
He comes up behind me, gathering my hair from where I’m bent over the edge. “You okay?”
“I think the food is bad,” I say with a groan. I hate puking, like absolutely despise it.
He clicks his tongue. “I’ll throw it out and get you something else then.”
My stomach turns at the idea of eating again. “I think I’m going to go lie down instead.”
***
It’s only an hour later when I feel irrational panic that this nausea could be something else. I do the math in my head. The one thing I can count on in life is my period every twenty-eight days like clockwork. It’s been thirty since my last one, meaning I’m two days late. I immediately order an entire bag of snacks and other things from the convenience store on the corner to be delivered. Thankfully, they bury what I need most at the bottom, so Wyatt isn’t suspicious when he brings it up to my room.
Staring at the box, I try to work up the courage to take it. The possibility of being pregnant with Wyatt’s child is high, considering we’ve never used condoms and I’m not on birth control.
It didn’t occur to me that he could knock me up in the moment because I haven’t had to worry about that in years, and I was more consumed with fucking him than being rational.
Tearing the package open, I stare at the stick, and nerves churn in my stomach. I’m not sure what result I want. It would be easier for it to be negative, nothing would have to change immediately. But if it’s positive, Wyatt would have to make some choices, and fast. I want him to choose me.
I sit on the toilet, pee on the plastic test, and then leave it on the counter as I finish and wash my hands. My nails drum against the marble counter as the three minutes stretch into what feels like an eternity. When I’ve counted to sixty Mississippis’ three times in a row, I snatch the test and turn it over.
Shock and excitement roll through me as the word Pregnant sits on the digital screen, and I put it on the counter, placing a hand over my belly. Wyatt’s baby is growing in there, and I smile with the joy of carrying his child.
But then the reality of the situation hits me. I’m fresh out of college with no job prospects and knocked up with my stepdad’s child. I’ll only have a few months before I show, and my mom will demand to know who the father is. And I just know Wyatt will admit to it outright, the hell with the consequences.
If my mom finds out it’s his baby, I know she won’t react well. Not only because of the cheating, but because I’ve taken something of hers. When my father first started dating, she told me she purposely sabotaged his dates. Not because she wanted him back, but because he dared to move on from her.
The problem is, after she kicks me out, I have to hope Wyatt will still want take me in with the baby or at least pay for somewhere for me to live. I can’t really apply for child support till after the baby is born. With each passing day of us living under this roof, I struggle with the insecurity that he truly wants to be with me. I want to believe he can achieve the annulment he wants. And now I worry we will have enough time to not put our baby in her warpath. I rub my flat stomach, a smile curling on my lips at the thought of our baby.
A knock on my bedroom door pulls me out of my worries, and I move cautiously to answer it, keeping the test behind my back. Wyatt’s worried face is on the other side, and I open the door wider, waving him in. His eyebrows quirk as he glances behind him before walking into my bedroom.
I shove the test into his chest before he can say anything and he looks down, confused. Flipping it over so he can see it, his body tenses as he realizes what it is and what it says.
“You’re pregnant?” he whispers.
I nod. My chest aches as he stands there silently for a moment. Then he steps forward, resting his hand on my stomach.
“You have my baby in you?” he asks, the heat in his eyes rendering me breathless.
Swallowing to coat my dry throat, I nod again. He grabs me around my waist, lifting me as I wrap my legs around him. The test falls onto the floor behind us as he carries me to my bed, dropping me on the mattress and crawling over me.
His mouth is on me instantly, his kiss deepening as he pushes my large sleeping shirt over my hips. With a quick tug, he rips my panties from me and unbuckles his pants. In the next second, he’s thrusting inside me and we both moan. It’s been a few days since he’s been able to sneak in to see me.
“I’m so fucking happy,” he growls against my lips. Wyatt snaps his hips faster, unrelenting with his kisses and pace as he makes love to me.
I hold on to him tightly, my nails digging into his shoulders and heels resting above his ass.
“I have your baby in me,” I whisper into his mouth. “Do you want to be with me?”
“Yes, Sophie,” he groans, his cock growing larger where he’s buried in my heat. He lifts onto his palms, bracing his weight on the bed as his hips snap faster. We don’t look away from each other as he moves inside me.
My door opens in the next second and I turn to face my mom walking into my room. Her mouth drops open when she takes in the scene before her. Wyatt doesn’t look at her. Instead, he picks up his pace and lets out a grunt with each thrust as if he’s in a rush to fill me with his cum.
My mom’s attention falls to the floor, and she picks up the test we dropped.
“Oh my god!” she cries out, her hand shaking as she stares at it.
I try to push him away, but Wyatt shakes his head and continues to fuck me.
“I need to come inside you. You’re mine,” he says, pumping his hips faster. It’s only a few more strokes till he stills, buried deep, and lets out a growl as the warmth of his cum floods into me.
My mom grabs him by the shirt and rips him off me, pulling him to the ground. I scramble away from her and back up against the wall, still huddled on the mattress. Wyatt stands, pushing my mother away from him and then tucks his wet cock back into his pants. Her eyes zero in on the movement, reminding her he was just fucking her daughter.
“You fucking bastard!” she screeches, trying to launch herself at him again.
He catches her arms, pressing them against her chest, and backs her into the door of my closet. “Calm down,” Wyatt says into her face.
My mom screams, slinging profanities. I scoot off the bed, tugging my shirt down, and pick up the test. It’s dumb, but I want to keep it for memory’s sake.
It quietens, and then my mom asks. “Is it yours?”
Her gaze bounces between us as her body sags. Wyatt looks down at her for a moment before letting go and stepping back. He glances over his shoulder at me but doesn’t move to stand next to me.
“Yes.”
My mom lets out a groan, her arm wrapping around her stomach as she bends as if in pain. “Oh god. So it’s been weeks.”
“Since the road trip,” Wyatt confirms.
“She’s my daughter, you sick bastard!” she screeches, standing up straight to push at Wyatt’s chest. He steps further away from her, backing into me and reaching behind to hold on to my hip. I roll my eyes at my mom’s dramatics.
“Touch me again, and we’ll be leaving till you’ve calmed down. If you want to have this conversation right now, we can. Or Sophie and I will leave,” he says, his fingers flexing where he’s holding me.
My mom’s attention swings to me, her nostrils flaring. “Get away from him, Sophie. I’m going to sue you for even touching my daughter. Put you in jail like the creep weirdo you are!”
I scowl. “Mom, I’m not a child. I wanted to fuck him as much as he did me.”
Wyatt inhales sharply, pinching me in warning to stay quiet. “Mary, I’ve been asking to talk about the annulment of our marriage. I showed you the videos presented.”
“What videos?” I ask at the same time my mother pushes at him again. “An annulment doesn’t mean you screw my daughter, asshole!”
I step to the side of Wyatt, pushing her away from him. “Stop hitting him! Stop pretending you care about that!”
She stands still, staring at me in shock. Crossing my arms, I glare back. Wyatt moves, and I’m comforted by the heat of his chest pressed against me.
“Let’s not pretend you’re upset because I’m your daughter when it’s really because he’s already moved on.”
She shakes her head. “What are you talking about?”
My shoulders lift in a long shrug. “Mom, you never checked in with me once the entire trip. Or really at all the past four years. I left across the country and you couldn’t be happier to not have the baggage of me. I come back, and you’re more concerned about your husband not fucking you.”
Her eyes narrow. “I know you think you have it all figured out, but believe me, Sophie. He’s just using you, probably knocked you up on purpose.”
“Why would he do that?” I ask, throwing my hands up in frustration.
She lets out an annoyed hiss through clenched teeth. “It’s how men trap you.”
I clap slowly and laugh. “Really? Because that worked out so well for my dad, right?”
Her face blanches, and she faces Wyatt again. “I’ll never sign an annulment.”
“I don’t need your signature. As long as I can prove I never consented to it in the first place, the judge will grant it to me.”
Shaking my head, I grab Wyatt’s arm. “I want to leave, please.”
He looks down at me, concern swirling in his eyes. “Pack only what you need, baby.”
“Excuse me!” my mom screams. “Sophie, don’t pack anything.”
Wyatt growls, stepping in front of me when she moves to grab me. “Touch her and you’ll regret it, Mary. I’ve told you twice now if you can’t calm down, then we’re leaving. Get out of her room.”
“Fuck you, Wyatt,” she spits out, crossing her arms. “Get out of my fucking house.”
I turn around, grabbing my duffle bag from the floor and stuffing the few clothes I had lying around. Tangling my fingers into his, I squeeze his hand to signal I’m ready to go.
My mom’s mouth drops open. “Sophie, I promise you. You’re too na?ve to realize he’s taking advantage–”
“We’re leaving. Anything you need to say can be said through my lawyer,” Wyatt grits out.
He pulls me in front of him, putting himself between my mother and me. As soon as we get to the stairs, I pick up the pace as my mother’s screams get louder and something slams into the wall above our heads. Wyatt presses against my back, nearly carrying me out the door and into my car.