“We’re having a little girl,” he whispered, the awe in his voice pulling at something deep inside me.
I closed my eyes, letting the words settle over me like a second blanket. His daughter.Ourdaughter.
“Yeah,” I murmured, my throat thick. “We are.”
His arm tightened around me, protective and reverent, and I let myself drift off, falling asleep to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the promise of something more.
Something that, dare I say, might feel like forever.
Brooks
The first thing I registered when I woke was softness. Smooth, supple skin plastered against mine, a cascade of blue-black hair spilling across the pillow and tickling my chin, the soft curve of her ass nestled against my hips like she’d been made to be there.
She had, even if she didn’t know it.
I had lost myself in Dani’s softness half a dozen more times last night. First, in the shower, with her moans echoing off the tiles. Then again with her bent over the bathroom vanity, turned toward the mirror so we could both watch her tits bounce with every punishing thrust of my hips. And once more, after our three a.m. snack in the kitchen.
While she ate the last of my vegan mac and cheese—slathered in pickle juice—I ate her pussy, laid bare on my kitchen island.
Every place in this house felt like it had her scent, her sounds, her body stamped into it now. And yet, with the morning light seeping through the blinds and her ass tucked tight against mycock, all I could think about was how ready I was to start all over again.
I pressed forward just enough to hear her sleepy little hum, the kind that went straight to my balls. Her hand slid back blindly, finding my thigh and squeezing.
“Mm, good morning,” she murmured, voice rough with sleep.
“Morning.” I kissed the back of her neck, grinding into the slick heat of her, andfuck,it would have been so easy to slide right back in. “You hungry?”
She laughed low, husky. “Are we talking about food or your dick?”
“Both? Either?”
Her laugh buzzed against my chest, and I buried my face in her hair, breathing her in. She smelled like sleep and sex and the faintest trace of my body wash.Mine. Every part of her was mine, and I was hers, even if we hadn’t put words to it yet.
She shifted against me, rolling her hips back just enough to tease me with that sweet friction. “You know what I really want?”
“Tell me,” I said, my hands gliding over the gentle swell of our baby, tracing the place where our daughter grew, before drifting up to cup her breasts.
She arched into my palm, gasping softly when I rolled her nipple between my fingers. “A nice, big,juicyhelping of . . .”She paused, lips curling in a wicked grin over her shoulder. “Blueberry pancakes. With extra butter. And bacon. Lots of bacon.”
I groaned, half in frustration, half in amusement. “Kitten, you can’t talk about bacon when I’m this hard. That’s cruel and unusual punishment.”
Her laugh was low and husky, vibrating through me. “Priorities, coach.”
“Fine,” I muttered, grinding into her just enough to make her gasp. “But after pancakes, I’m eating you again.”
I smiled against her shoulder, about to prove to her just how serious I was, when—
The front door opened.
Dani stiffened in my arms, twisting to look at me with wide eyes.
“Oh, shit,” I muttered, every ounce of blood draining straight from my cock.
The unmistakable pitter-patter of little sneakers hitting hardwood echoed down the hall. “Daddy!” Carolina’s bright voice carried through the house, seconds before my bedroom door creaked open.
With barely enough time for me to roll out of bed and slip my discarded jeans up and over my bare ass, I tugged the comforter up and over Dani’s shoulders just as my daughter appeared, her backpack still hanging off one shoulder.
“There you are!” She beamed. She stopped dead when she saw Dani in my bed, then looked at me with all the blunt honesty only a kid could pull off. “Miss Dani?”
