Page 106 of This Woman Forever

A peanut? Well, we all know peanuts are one of my most favorite things. That’s that settled then. Ava’s smile falls. Realization hits.

“Oh no, Ward.” She chuckles.

“What?” I give our peanut a little nuzzle with my nose. “It’s perfect.”

“I am not referring to our baby as peanut, end of.”

So defiant. It’s time for some convincing. Eyeing her hip, I move in, seizing it and massaging teasingly, making her buck and yell. “Stop!” she gasps.

What the fuck am I doing? My clenched fingers are mere inches from her fragile tummy. “Shit.” I release her quickly and rub the area, and Ava yells, throwing me a furious scowl.

“What are you doing?” she asks, and for a moment I think she’s pissy because I just practically squeezed our peanut to death. Fucking hell, I can’t be trusted with life at all.

But then I realize. She’s not angry because of that. This is what she’s talking about. Acceptable levels of fretting and fussing.

Oh.

“See,” she says, arms thrown up in disbelief. “That is what I mean.” Yes, darling, I just this second figured that out. “If you don’t reinstate some of your normal behavior soon, I’ll be moving to my mum and dad’s for the rest of this pregnancy.”

I blink, stunned. Is she threatening to leave me again? Ten minutes after we’ve just found out we’re pregnant? What the fuck is she on? Other than hormones, I mean.

“I mean it, Ward,” she barks, furious. “All of the fierceness, the rough, the countdowns, and fuckings of various degrees, I want them back.” She gathers breath. She’s not done? “And I want them now.”

Yes, I hear you, because you’re fucking shouting. And now she’s breathless. Stressed. Don’t tell me that’s good for the baby. And don’t tell me I’m the cause. Fuck, this is going to be a tricky ship to captain. “Calmed down yet?”

She snorts, in disbelief, I think. I should release a few snorts myself, because she’s fucking unbelievable. She wants me to fuck her. All this because she wants me to ram my big cock into her begging pussy. I grin on the inside. Oh, how you crave me, lady. I love it. But she’s going to have to control herself for a while, and I’m going to have to get creative if I’m going to keep my wife happy and my baby safe.

“That depends on whether any of this is sinking into this thick skull of yours.” She pulls my hair.

“Ouch.” I chuckle, both at her and at me. Look at us. Listen to us. We’re fucking perfect.

I roll over to my back and put my wily wife’s legs on either side of my hips, getting us comfortable, me against the pillows, Ava against my thighs. Soon, like this, I’ll be able to stick my tongue out and lick her tummy. Can’t wait.

I consider her fresh, young face, and I wonder how I can ever love her more. But I know I can, because each day that passes, she gives me more. Teaches me more. “Do you remember when I found you at the bar, when I showed you how to dance?” I ask.

She settles into my legs, laying her hands over mine on her knees. “That was the night I realized I’d fallen in love with you.”

“I know because you told me.” It was so fucking frustrating, but it was the way it was supposed to be. It was how our story was supposed to be told. “You were drunk, but you still said it.” And I will never forget that moment. Or her face.

Because I took a picture.

“Hmm,” she hums, stroking over my hands, casual. “Must have been the dancing.”

“I know.” And the body contact, the feel of me against her, the fact she missed me terribly. “I’m good.”

“You’re arrogant.”

She loves my arrogance, even if it’s a front as wide as the Atlantic. “It would seem that I’m a little brighter than my beautiful wife.” I slide my hands down her legs to her ankles, smiling at her deep intake of breath to sustain my soft strokes.

“You’re really arrogant.”

“No.” I shake my head. “Not this time. This time, I’m just honest.” She cocks her head, and I smile at her curiosity. “You see,” I go on, killing that curiosity. “I realized that I was in love with you before then.” Way before then. In fact, I think if I really consider the events from the day she walked into my office and my life, I fell in love with her on the spot.

“Does that make you cleverer than me?” she asks.

“Yes, it does.” Because self-awareness wins. Listening to your heart wins, and considering mine was pretty much dead, I’m winning. “The whole time you were running, I was so frustrated. I was thinking there must’ve been something wrong with you.” Like... was she blind? Could she not see me? “You know, because you wouldn’t submit to me.”

Why does she look so pleased with herself, like she’s achieved what no woman has achieved by resisting me? But as I knew it wouldn’t, her self-control didn’t last long. “Like the others did,” she asks, and I nod. “It was only because I knew I’d get hurt. Even though I didn’t know you, it was obvious you”—her lips straighten, her eyes scanning mine—“were experienced.”

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