“You feeling okay, babe?” he asks when I get up.
“Yeah, I’ve been tired all day. Maybe I’m coming down with something.”
Wes raises his eyebrows. “Or maybe…”
“I wish.” I shake my head. I’ve been pretty good about waiting until after my period is supposed to begin before taking a test.
“You’ve been tired all week.”
“That’s just one symptom,” I remind him, though after watching poor Quinn puke her brains out I just kind of assumed I’d be like that too and I’d know with absolute certainty that I was pregnant.
Still, Wes’s question hangs over me throughout dinner. And dessert. And bedtime. So much so that I break a rule and bust out a test.
Jackson is fast asleep, and Wes is watching TV downstairs. I said I was going to change into PJs and be right back. Taking one test won’t take long. And I have to pee anyway.
My hands shake, and I close my eyes, talking myself down. Flipping that test over and seeing a big fat negative is more disappointing than I ever expected.
But this time…
“Wes!” I blink. Once. Twice. “Wes!”
I hear him running up the stairs. “What’s wrong?” he asks, pushing open the bathroom door. I’m standing in front of the sink, too stunned to talk. I hold up the test.
Wes looks at it, at me, and back at the test again. Then he pulls me into his arms. “You’re pregnant!”
Continue reading in the Dawson Family series with Logan and Danielle in Cheap Trick!
Emily Goodwin is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of over a dozen of romantic titles. Emily writes the kind of books she likes to read, and is a sucker for a swoon-worthy bad boy and happily ever afters.
She lives in the midwest with her husband and two daughters. When she's not writing, you can find her riding her horses, hiking, reading, or drinking wine with friends.
Find Emily online:
Blurb
I met the devil in broad daylight.
He was cold, dangerous, and nothing I knew I wanted.
I should’ve known better.
But I couldn't stay away from everything I never thought I’d need.
So we made a deal—just our bodies.
But the lines blurred without warning, and I soon found myself making another deal.
I made the mistake of asking for forever, never knowing just how much the cold could burn.
Now, I’m afraid that lies dressed as kisses are all we’ll ever have.
Warning
This story contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. This e-book is intended for adults ONLY. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
Chapter One
Rochelle
NOW
My hand grips the glass tightly, my breathing picks up as I watch Marcus Stone in action. I can see his skin glistening under the cold night as each stroke grows more powerful, one after the next. My eyes are glued to his body as he comes up for air. His strong jawline opening then closing with each powerful breath.
How can watching someone swim turn you on?
I’m not sure, but it can. Somehow, it turns me on.
Bringing the glass to my lips, I take one more drink, finishing the contents and feeling the burn as it goes down. I need the liquid courage. I need it to face him.
Marcus turns, his strokes finally stop when he looks at me. The light from the kitchen is not helping to obscure me while I sit in the dark, stalking.
My breathing stops as his two powerful eyes lock on mine, his strong hand lifts and strokes his fingers through his hair. I’m helpless, compelled to watch as the muscles in his arm flex during the simple action. His hazel eyes narrow in on me.
“Rochelle…” Marcus says my name as easily as the water drips from his body.
It makes me even madder.
The drink in my hand feels like it could smash any second with the pressure I’m applying to the glass. He pushes himself out of the water, his body glistening as he comes to a stand not too far away from me. Reaching for a towel, he wipes his body. His hazel eyes, now darkening, lock on me when I don’t answer him.
“I’m leaving you,” I say with a smile when my breath doesn’t hitch at those words.
“This is what you want?” Marcus asks.
No fight.
No argument.
Nothing.
“Yes. I’m leaving you,” I say it more to myself this time. Perhaps to help me believe it.
He chuckles.
The asshole chuckles.
“Off you go, then.”
With as much strength as I can muster, I throw my glass at him, just missing his head when he ducks out of the way. When he stands taller, I know that was a mistake. But I honestly don’t care. I can’t care anymore.
Pushing myself up from the lounger where I was reclining while working up the courage to tell him I am leaving, I step forward and come just under his chin.
Marcus is tall.
I hate that about him.
I hate a lot about him.
But then again, I also don’t.
“Is that all you’ve got to say?” I arch an eyebrow.
Marcus arches one back. “Yes.” Then he pushes past me, not caring that he almost knocks me over as he heads inside.
I follow. I shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself.
“You sleep with her… when I’m not here… in this house,” I yell.
He halts, turns, and smirks. “I do,” Marcus says, the towel now dropping. His swimwear is sitting low on his hips. “And I fuck her hard… all the ways you hate and I love.” His lips turn up, waiting for me to say something in return.
“I hate you,” I spit at him.
“I know you do.”
“I hate you sooo much.”
“That’s okay. You can leave now.”
“Is she coming over?” I yell.
Marcus turns, his hand touching the railing that leads up to his room.
I’ve never really lived here—I was simply a visitor. No one important. Just a person in this man’s life. No one can penetrate him. I feel sorry for the person who finally does get through his impervious walls. They will either be very stupid or love him more than anyone else ever has.
“She will be now. I have steam I need to work off.” He takes the steps two at a time and disappears, leaving me standing in the foyer with my hands clenched as I look around for my things. Luckily for me, I never moved out of my house. What a mistake that would have been if I had.
But worse, what a mistake Marcus was.
While rushing around and grabbing my things, I hear a ding. Looking over to the countertop, I see his cell light up. For some reason he doesn’t have it locked, so I slide it open and up pops a girl’s name.
Misha: I want you to spank me so bad, baby.