He lifts his shoulders dismissively and kneads my ass with his palms. “We’re newlyweds. What else doesshe expect?”
“I don’t want tolookat her and think ofthat.”
His mouth curves into a sultry smirk. “You’re pregnant, remember?”
“Uh-huh.Allegedly.”
“You going to take that test?”
Yes, but not right this second.
“I’m hungry.”
His expression turns exasperated, which hints he’s either nervous or excited.
Heaven forbid he be the first one because the man’s mental health might stumble with the idea he’d be anything but bold, brave, and confident.
“I want to know if I’m having a baby,” he returns. “Don’t you have to wait an hour for those things anyway?”
Well, you’ve lived your life without ever having a pregnancy scare. That’s kinda nice to know.
“A minute,” I reply. “And your wife is starving.”
Bronte looks heavenward, alluding to the fact that I’ve won the battle. “Fine. But I’m knowing by the end of the night.”
“Fine.”
He leans in, kissing me softly, when he purposely moves my weight to fall down the length of his cock again.
I shiver and moan involuntarily and feel his smile against my lips.
“Any chance I can get you to change your mind in the next three minutes?”
Maybe not.
Sighing, because he literally takes no prisoners with the way he plans and barters. Like a damn terrorist, before I reply, “Make me come in two and you have yourself a deal.”
Epilogue
BRONTE
Almost two years later…
She still looks at Prague the same way she did the first time I took her here on our honeymoon.
Her light brown eyes soak and look at everything—every noise, every movement that catches her peripheral, and every note that plays off someone who’s orchestrating their own little concert on the cobblestoned sidewalks.
Mixed with the magic of the holidays, Meirna is back in her element. It brings back all the emotions and feelings of having her as my wife, like it did before.
There’s nothing I’d change about the origins of Meirna and I. Everything we have is uniquely perfect and chaotic. Meirna brings color and depth into my life that I didn’t have before. So much so that I was almost certain she’s going to decorate our new home in pink, fuzzy carpet.
Which would have been fine.
As long as I was able to fuck her in it.
Our home in Boston is on a bit of land. Space that our twin boys, Lennon and Rowan, will roam and cause havoc on. Fromexperience, I know twin boys, and my fear is having them end up like Bobby and me.
However, Meirna isn’t Catherine, and neither has shown signs of being a fucking asshole, so there’s that.
