I extend my arms. “I think I should take Eli back. I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I don’t want any voodoo magic around my child.”
She stops bouncing Eli up and down. She stares at me in disbelief for a fraction of a second. Then her head falls back as she laughs boisterously. I cross my arms across my chest, not amused at all. I don’t see how what I said was in any way humorous. Not to mention that my baby is still inconsolable, and neither of us can figure out what’s wrong.
“Walker,” she says in between her fits of laughter, “witching houris a phrase they use to describe a specific time period where a baby cries and is difficult to console.”
I feel heat spread across my face, realizing my assumption might have been a little extreme. She continues to laugh at my expense, and the sheer volume of it distracts Eli enough to calm her down.
She realizes it at the same time, looking down at my daughter with affection. “Is that what calms you down? Me laughing at your silly daddy?”
“Maybe it was your obnoxious laugh that scared her silent,” I quip, not liking her and my daughter teaming up against me.
Jessie seems amused. “Why don’t you go hide your candles? You wouldn’t want me having access to those. I might break out in a ritual.”
“Joke’s on you. I don’t own candles,” I reply, then take Eli out of her arms. “Finish your dinner.”
She shrugs her shoulders and falls down to the couch and grabs her plate.
An hour later, Eli is bathed, changed, fed, and in her bassinet in my bedroom. I walk out of my bedroom and literally fall face down on the couch as I let out a loud groan.
Jessie is sitting at the edge of the large sectional, her legs resting on the coffee table.
“How am I even functioning?” I sigh into the couch cushion.
She pats my head like I’m a damn child. “You’ll get used to it. According to Eva, your body gets used to lack of sleep eventually. I would recommend not downing coffee and energy drinks.”
I lift my head. Her bare legs are inches from me, tanned and toned. She must have changed into pajamas while I was getting Eli down. I shake my head and slam it back down on the cushion.
“Fuck my life,” I growl to myself.
On top of being sleep-deprived, I’ve got Jessie’s legs taunting me in my own home—reminding me what I want, but can’t have.
“Oh, get over it, you big baby. Everyone goes through this with newborns.”
I growl and roll over to my side. “Want to watch a movie or something?”
“Sure. FYI … I’m sleeping on the couch this time. You made it through last night. You can figure it out tonight.”
I don’t fight her on that. It’s definitely for the best. I don’t need any more temptation. She hasn’t brought up what I said earlier, making me wonder if what I was admitting even sank in.
Chapter Nine
Jessie
Ilook over at him snoring on the couch, his broad chest rising and falling rhythmically. His words have been running on replay in my mind for hours. Eli’s scream fest was the only time I was able to get it out of my head.
Now I lie next to him, our heads only a foot apart.
The way he looked tortured as he kept his hands off me, I felt the struggle inside of him; it was transparent.
And how he described it …
He would die, wishing he could claim me as his.
My pussy clenches when I recall it.
He was so … direct. Just like the night I’d tasted him. The words he spoke were so dirty, so honest. It’d made my insides melt from the scorching inferno it generated.
To this day, no man has ever spoken to me like that during sex. Walker is not only brave enough to match my fire but daring enough to burn even hotter.
