And all of it has happened under his wolf eyes.
And so this dark possession has only grown over the past weeks.
Before it made my skin coarse with goosebumps, but now it burns me.
It makes me curl my extremities and part my lips.
Now it makes me, actually makes me, put a hand on my belly. Not that it’s a hardship; I love touching my belly, but still.
The moment I do, he lets Tempest go and his animal eyes fall on my expanded abdomen. He stares at it for a few beats as if checking that my — our — baby girl is all safe inside of me. As if he canconfirm this just by looking at me like that.
Then he lifts up his eyes and moves toward me.
With every step he takes toward me, he does his thing.
Checking to make sure that I’m okay, that nothing bad has happened to me while I was safely ensconced in this cozy house, spending a relaxed day with his sister.
His steps echo as he climbs the porch steps and I dig my fingers into my belly.
When he reaches me, he dips his face and I crane my neck up.
“Hi,” I say, doing my thing, glancing at the tired lines around his eyes, his mouth.
The sharpness of his cheekbones, his jaw, the creases on his forehead.
As if that place where he works chisels him down, brings out his blade-like edges, and I hate that.
I absolutely hate it.
“You okay?” he asks instead of greeting me back.
“Yeah. You? You look tired. Was it a hard day?”
“I’m fine.” He dismisses my concern over him and it bugs me even more but I keep my mouth shut for now. “You throw up at all?”
“No, not even once,” I whisper. “Remember what the doctor said? I won’t. Not anymore.”
At the mention of our doctor, his stubbled jaw clenches. “Well, thedoctorcan go fuck herself.”
“Reed,” I warn. “Don’t say that. It’s not her fault that my morning sickness was so bad.”
“But it was her fuckingjobto make it better, wasn’t it?”
I sigh. “You know, you shouldn’t curse so much, Reed.”
His eyes flash, making me blush.
Then he asks gruffly, “Pest give you a hard time?”
“Of course not. She’s my best friend. We had tons of fun. We saw movies. We gossiped. We had pizza and popcorn. And cheesy fries. Also cupcakes.”
Aside from my nausea being gone, my hunger is back. I still can’t do meat. But God, give me all the fried stuff.
His lips twitch. “Peanut Butter Blossoms.”
Gosh, those cupcakes will be the death of me.
Because every time I eat them, I think about his mouth. I know I’m not supposed to but I do. I do think about his taste. And it doesn’t help that I’m surrounded by his scent, his clothes.Him.
