“Practice.” I smirk. “Lots and lots of practice.”
Her face falls from blissed out happiness to a frown as she turns toward the stairs. “Well, now I regret asking,” she mumbles.
I snag her wrist before she can go too far, pulling her against me. “Jealousy looks cute on you.” I press a kiss to her temple. “But just so you know? No one else has ever made me lose my goddamn mind like that.” I let her go, smacking her ass lightly. “Now get upstairs, I'll make sure everything's locked up and be right behind you.”
When I make it upstairs, she’s already undressed and reading under the blankets. I change into pajama pants. Then I climb into bed with her, hauling her body against my chest withone arm while snagging her e-reader with the other and tossing it on the nightstand.
“Nope, my turn now.” After thoroughly wrecking her, I’m not about to let her crawl into bed and not take care of her. “Roll over.”
She looks at me quizzically but does what I ask. Her face tilted to the side on the pillow; her arms tucked under it. I start at her feet, massaging firmly before moving up to her ankles and then her calves. I work her body over slowly and methodically until she’s relaxed and pliant. My hands smooth over her back. Her breath evens out and she sighs softly. I only stop when I know she’s good. When I know she’s not carrying anything after I treated her like I didn’t respect her. I lean down, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.
“Sleep.” I gather her into my arms, tugging her onto my chest. “I got you.”
~ Seriphina Joseph ~
THE PAIN IN MY STOMACHis so uncomfortable it’s almost unbearable but I welcome it whole heartedly. They did a pregnancy test at the clinic but until I sat down and confirmed I had started I didn’t let go of the idea that I could be carrying that dickhead’s baby. This gift from mother nature is a week late. The cramping has me doubled over in the bathroom, reaching for the ibuprofen in the medicine cabinet. Once I have it in my hand, I lay my head on my forearm across the counter. I bite my lip to keep from groaning. I’m trying not to wake Griffin up at 5:00 a.m., hours before he normally rolls out of bed. He keeps late nights so early mornings aren’t really his thing.
“Sunshine?” The sound of his groggy sleep husky voice rings out from the bedroom.
Fuck. I guess there’s no point in trying to be quiet now. I don’t reply. I’m trying not to whine like a little girl. He doesn’t knock, pushing the door open to find me slumped over the sink, my hand pressed to my abdomen like I’m dealing with bad sushi.
“Hey, hey.” He crosses the room in a blink. “What’s wrong? Where does it hurt?”
“I’m fine, Griffin. It’s just cramps.” I brush him off and reach for the glass beside the sink. Straightening up, I force my features to smooth out.
He snatches the glass before my fingers can graze it. His jaw tight as he fills it from the tap. It clinks when he sets it down. He unscrews the cap on the pills, shakes two into his palm but doesn't hand them over yet.
“Don’t,” his voice rough with sleep. “You aren’t fine. You’re white knucklin’ the goddamn counter.” He ushers me to the toilet before handing me both the medicine and the water. He crouches down in front of me. “How bad?”
“Normal first day period bad. Really. I always cramp this much at the beginning. I’ll lay back down after I take these. I’ll be fine. You don’t have to kneel at my feet over this.” I take the water and the pills and toss them back. Then I grab the bottle and shake out two more, knowing the first two aren’t going to cut it.
He straightens, his expression darkening further when he clocks the second two. “What the hell do you mean this bad?” He looks over my body slowly before returning to my face, like he’s trying to figure out if I’m dying or not. “You get like this every month?”
“Have you really never been around someone with a period? Cramps happen. Most women go through this and worse. I had a friend in high school that would be in so much pain she threw up.” I stand up and pat his shoulder before moving around him to shuffle back to bed. “It will pass.”
He blocks my path, his hands framing my hips to keep me steady. “Don’t care what most women go through.” His thumbs brushing the waistband of the silk sleep shorts I’m wearing. “You’re mine. So you aren’t shruggin’ this off while I’m here to do somethin’ about it.”
Without another word, he lifts me clear off the floor. One arm under my knees, the other bracing my back and carrying me straight to bed. He tucks me in then presses a kiss to the spot between my brows. “Stay put.”
I roll my eyes at him. “Again with the carrying,” I say sarcastically. Then roll over with a groan, shoving a pillow under my stomach for counter pressure.
He sits on the edge of the bed and runs his hand soothingly across my back. “Humor me, yeah?”
“Yeah, alright,” I agree in an attempt to make him feel better. The way he’s acting, he’s obviously more bothered by this than I am.
He bends down, kisses the back of my neck, then his voice drops to that gravelly register that always makes my spine tingle. “Good girl.”
I want to snark at him about how it’s really shitty timing for that particular phrase but he’s already rattling cabinets like a man on a mission. The sound of clinking ceramic and running water follows before he returns with two things ten minutes later—a steaming mug of herbal peppermint ginger tea and a heating pad. He sets the tea down on the nightstand before getting on all fours and reaching behind the bed to plug in the heating pad. He delicately pushes his hand under my stomach, lifting to slide it under me. It’s all amazingly sweet and I come close to breaking my own rules and telling him I love him right there, until he does the expected thing and opens his mouth.
“Drink the tea. And if you even think about openin’ that store today. I’m tyin’ you to this bed.”
I grumble at him for ruining a moment. “I’ll be better by then. I’m not staying closed over this.”
His eyes narrow and he looks like he’s calculating exactly how many ways he can win this argument without pissing me off. Then he pulls his phone out of his pocket and starts typing.
“Jax.” He says the name like it’s both an explanation and a threat. “Gonna have him watch the store cameras remotely. If you so much as limp toward that door before noon, I’m turnin’ the car around from wherever the hell I am and carryin’ your ass right back upstairs. That’s a goddamn promise.” His thumb swipes across the screen one more time before putting it away, then he leans down to press a kiss to my temple. “Now drink your damn tea.”
If he was trying to come up with ways to resolve this without pissing me off, that wasn’t it. I sit up slowly and take the tea as he offers it to me. Now I’m in pain, grumpy, and irritated at him for being an overbearing asshole.
