I rub my hand over my facial scruff. “Our daughter might look funny coming out with abeard.”
Emma Lia slaps her hand against my chest. “Sometimes I think you’re trying to trade in your Dom card and become acomedian.”
“Not a comedian.” I pull her close and press my forehead to hers. “Everything I’ve been, I am, or will ever be, I surrender it all to you. I am a different man because of my love for you, but I can never stop being your Dom, even after we’re married and we become parents. It’s ingrained in me as deeply as myDNA.”
“I understand because I can never stop being your submissive. And I can’t think of anything more beautiful than the relationship that wehave.”
She says that now, but it’s only going to grow and become more beautiful. Two days from now is the first day of the rest of our lives as Mr. and Mrs.Broussard.
13
Emma Lia James
When I wake,I feel very rested and I know that it’s the great sex. Since I’ve gotten pregnant, it’s like a sleeping pill forme.
This is new. I’m awake before Tristan. And I choose to take advantage of this unprecedented moment by studying his sleeping figure. And damn, it is a fineone.
Tristan is lying on his back, the sheet scrunched around his hips, covering his perfect cock. I love everything about it. Its length, its girth, how hard it gets, how good it feels moving inside me. I can honestly say that it satisfies mecompletely.
I look at his face and see that his eyes are fluttering beneath his lids. Aww… he’s dreaming. I wonder what a man like him sees when he’s in the deepest of sleep. Whatever it is, I don’t want to disrupt it so I slide to the edge of the bed in slow motion and place my feet on the floor of the plane’s bedroom suite. I glance over my shoulder to make sure I haven’t disturbed his slumber. He remains unmoving so I ease from the bed with the agility of a flutteringbutterfly.
When I finish in the bathroom, I return to bed and repeat the same motion in reverse. I’m so pleased with myself because I manage to slip into bed next to Tristan without waking him. But then I realize I’m basking in my accomplishment prematurely when he suddenly rises and pins me beneathhim.
“What were youdoing?”
“Peeing—you know that thing that pregnant women do all of thetime?”
Tristan moves down my body. I’m expecting him to initiate another round of sex, but instead he stops at my belly, his face hovering over my navel. “How can something so small already be the cause of so manychanges?”
“I have noidea.”
I push my fingers into his hair, lightly scraping my nails over his scalp. He presses a kiss to my abdomen and then looks up at me. “I already love this little baby somuch.”
“I know. I dotoo.”
He places a kiss against my stomach. “Do you want to get dressed and havelunch?”
That’s an odd question since we should be landing soon. “You want to have lunch on the plane instead of getting something after weland?”
“We won’t be landing for several morehours.”
What? “I’mconfused.”
“I have a confession, mon bien-aimé.”
I hate when Tristan says that he has a confession. Nothing good ever follows. “What kind ofconfession?”
“We won’t be landing for another six hours orso.”
The flight from New Orleans to Vegas is around four hours, but we won’t be landing for another six hours? I’m no mathematician, but that doesn’t addup.
“I guess that the jig isup.”
“Whatjig?”
“I lied to you. We aren’t going toVegas.”
I’m instantly pissed off. “You swore to me that the lies were over betweenus.”
