Page 109 of Worth Risking It

“No, baby,” I laughed. “She’s only four weeks old. She’s not going to be having any milestones in the next two weeks.”

“Oh, this is bullshit. I should be home right now!”

“Don’t worry about it. Everything is fine. I’m good, she’s good, and hey…look what happened at the hospital. Your parents even showed up to congratulate us.”

“Yeah, that’s true. Mom even kissed your cheek.”

“Exactly, so telling your dad no right now when he needs you is not good. Think about making peace, baby. I want our little girl to know your parents.”

He groaned on his end. “Fine. But if I can wrap this up early, I’m coming home as soon as possible.”

Smiling, I nodded. “I’m sure you will.”

“All right. I gotta go. I love you, baby girl.”

“Love you, too.”

“Kiss the princess for me.”

My insides jolted, stealing my breath. Princess? Oh, how I prayed that was a one time thing and not something he would start calling her on a regular.

Coughing, I stammered, “I will.”

“I’ll call you in a couple hours.”

“Okay.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

The second my thumb tapped the screen to hang up, a fist was in my hair, ripping strands from my scalp to yank me backward. A scream catching my throat, my heart sank, and my stomach hit the floor, heat prickling my nerves with panic. My hands grabbed at the wrist holding me, my neck strained to peer over my shoulder.

Wyatt!

He was sneering down at me, a feral glaze in his blue pools. His brows were low, his nostrils flaring, his teeth gleaming.

“What are you doing?” I whispered, casting the crib an anxious glance.

His upper lip twitched, and a guttural groan rumbled from his chest. He yanked his fist, making me whimper in pain, my neck muscles pulled to their capacity. His lids closed, his chin bowed, and he took a long, slow inhale while moving his face along the side of my throat.

I shuddered, panting, unsure what was going on. He looked like a fucking wild animal sniffing his prey.

“I can fucking smell you,” he growled and bit my cheek.

“What?”

His hand lunged into my pajama pants and underwear, his fingers going straight for my pussy. I squealed and bounced to my toes, shock washing over me.

“Oh, fuck, what are you doing? Stop!”

Removing his hand, he held my stare and licked the blood from his fingers. Another primal growl, his lids rounding. Next thing I knew, he was dragging me from the nursery, not even acting like a rational human being.

“Wyatt, stop—”

He threw me to the floor and tore at my pants, huffing and grunting while I struggled against him.

“Stop it.”