Shopping for a CEO's Baby (Shopping for a Billionaire Series Book 16) by Julia Kent

Author:Julia Kent [Kent, Julia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-10-26T18:30:00+00:00

His hand slides between my thighs as I drift off to sleep.

My eyes fly open.

A kiss on my bare shoulder, then the long, hot, hard length of him up against my back makes me take a deep breath. I don't mean to, but I hold it.

“Amanda?” he murmurs, that hand between my thighs intent on doing more than finding a resting place.

“Mmmm?”

“Are you...?”

Am I what?

Interested?

Willing?

Horny?

Scared?

Turned on?

Desperate?

Aroused?

How about all of those?

“I'm... I don't know.”

His hand stops moving.

“I don't know is a no.” He snuggles in. “Affection's fine.”

The baseball bat between his legs, poking my tailbone, tells me it's not fine.

“In this case, I don't know is... too many feelings to just say yes.”

“Which is a no.”

“It's not a no. It's a...”

“A what, sweetie?” He strokes my hair.

The “sweetie” makes me burst into tears.

“Oh, Amanda,” he whispers, holding me in his arms, palm running from my shoulder to my wrist, a soothing gesture that shows how much he cares. “What's wrong? Did I do something to upset you?”

“No. It's not you. It's me.”

“You were fine until I reached for you, so it's me.”

“It's not. It's... it's a little bit of everything. I'm so big, we can't do my favorite position. I'm so swollen that one touch between my legs and I come–and no, that's not some superpower, because it doesn't feel as good as it did before the pregnancy. Then I worry that I'll never orgasm like I did before the pregnancy, and that I should have appreciated it more when I could come like that. Plus, I'm a house. Literally a house. I'm housing two womb mates. And I know you find me attractive and sexy, and I feel attractive and sexy, but I'm pretty close to either having my vagina split open or my abs cut by a scalpel, so sex is complicated and tough and, Andrew,” I sob, the hitched breaths feeling completely untethered. “I don't know. I don't know who I am anymore. I don't know what I want. I don't know what this body is. So... I don't know.”

“There's a lot of emotion behind those three words.”

“It's not the only three-word sentence packed with emotion,” I reply. “There’s I love you.”

“And Yes, I swallow.”

Through tears, I hit him in jest, but his comment does what it needs to do. The melancholy that swept over me earlier breaks free, as if I've been bound by tiny ropes of despair that are frayed by his abiding attention and diligent presence. Rolling over is hard now, but I manage, then kiss him, my tongue moving fast to find his, to connect and savor, to thank and rejoice.

Being understood is a luxury.

Being seen is a holy act.

When every part of your body expands to accommodate new life, being touched by the outside world takes on a new feel. Andrew's familiar touch reconfigures to elicit different reactions from me, his hand cupping my full breast something old and new at the same time.

When I move to be closer to him, his hand

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