Glancing at me, then the doctor, then back to me again, Octavia shuffles up the bed and lies back, putting her feet on the mattress before letting her legs fall open. Reaching for me, she grabs my hand in both of hers, pulling it toward her and holding it tightly.
“Okay, deep breath in, and try to relax,” the doctor says.
A part of me wishes I could lean forward to see what the doctor is doing, but the rest of me is relieved that I can’t, because the thought of anyone else seeing or touching my wife’s cunt makes a flash of newly recognizable anger thump inside my chest.
The screen on the ultrasound machine is turned toward the doctor, but after a couple of moments, she spins it around to face us. On it is the outline of something that looks a little like a kidney bean-shaped sack with a tiny white dot in it.
“And there is your baby,” the doctor says, her voice soft and reverent.
“Oh my god,” Octavia gasps, squeezing my hand even tighter between both of hers.
“Congratulations. I’d say you’re approximately four weeks pregnant, which means there isn’t much to see, but so far everything seems to be as it should.”
The rest of the appointment passes quickly. Dr. Singh writes Doll a script for prenatal vitamins and folic acid, then schedules our next appointment in three weeks’ time. Octavia nods and answers any questions the doctor has, but she’s dazed andclearly a little shocked at the news that she’s already carrying my baby.
Taking her hand, I lead her out of the doctor’s office, swinging her off the floor and into my arms the moment we step onto the sidewalk. “I love you, Doll, and I love our baby.”
“I can’t believe I’m pregnant. I mean, how did that even happen? I didn’t even know my birth control had run out, and what are the odds that you’d knock me up the first time you fucked me?” she says, talking quickly and without taking a breath.
“It wasn’t the first time I fucked you.”
“Oh my god, I know, but still. How am I pregnant?” Her eyes are wide, and her expression is shocked.
“You’re carrying my baby?—”
“Our baby,” she interrupts. “It’s our baby, not just yours. It’s inside me.”
Smiling has never felt so easy as I press my lips to hers. “Our baby.”
“I’m pregnant,” she says quietly as I reluctantly lower her to her feet, smoothing her skirt down to make sure no one else can see what’s mine.
“Let’s go home. You need to rest,” I growl, scooping her off her feet and into my arms bridal style.
“What are you talking about? I don’t need to rest. I need to go and get these pills and draw up my designs for tomorrow,” she insists, not fighting being carried as she rests her cheek against my shoulder.
“Building a baby is hard. Your body is creating life. I’ll look into apartments near the studio so you can have somewhere close to take a nap. I’ll rearrange your appointments so you have two hours for lunch, not just one, and nothing after 1800 hours so we can be home where you can rest,” I say, talking more to myself than her.
“Knight, I don’t need to take naps. I’m not a toddler, and a lot of my clients can’t do appointments until after work. I can’t only work until six p.m. Betty is pregnant and working, and she’s fine. You need to relax.”
“Cody’s failings as a husband are not mine. You will be taking a nap. You will be working fewer hours. I will be doing what needs to be done to ensure that you and our baby are healthy and well rested,” I tell her, not willing to negotiate.
“I don’t want to tell anyone yet,” Doll blurts.
“Why?”
“Because I’m only four weeks pregnant. Most people don’t find out this early, and things happen in early pregnancies. Let’s wait until after the first trimester, then we’ll tell people.”
“Nothing will happen to this baby. I’ll take care of you. I’ll make sure everything is okay,” I inform her, already going over our daily schedule and adjusting accordingly. A familiar pang of discomfort at the idea of change pulses in my gut, but I push it aside. My baby—our baby—is more important.
TWENTY
OCTAVIA
I’m pregnant. With a baby. Knight’s baby. I’m pregnant with Knight’s baby. Holy fucking crap. How did this happen? Obviously, I know how this happened. We’ve been fucking like bunnies for weeks, but seriously, how did this happen?
When I told him we could try for a baby, I was basking in the horny glow of being a newlywed and cum drunk over how perfect and sweet and thoughtful my new husband is. But I still assumed the actual baby part of trying for a baby was something far in the future. I mean, most women take months to get pregnant…right?
Although Betty was surprised when she and Cody had their fling, and the rest of the Barnetts seemed to get knocked up if they even whispered the word baby in the same room as their husbands too, so maybe I’m stupid for not expecting this.
