Page 68 of Delayed Penalty

Nervously, I walk in, my eyes widening when I realize what I’m looking at.

There was an entire pile of magazines on the small table in the room, there had to be at least ten of them from all different stores, but they all had one thing in common.

Baby stuff.

There were magazines for clothes, for furniture, for carrying gear, sleep gear, car seats, you name it. The sight of the magazines brings tears to my eyes, my hand coming up to my stomach on instinct as I realize that it’s no longer an if I become a mom.

I’m becoming one.

Years ago, long before I’d become so bitter on what it meant to be happy, I had dreamed of becoming a mom. I thought about what it would be like to have a little mini me, or a little mini version of my husband, who I’d always hoped would be Harris. But after our relationship died, so did my dream of becoming a mom.

“You did all of this?”

“Yeah… I only ordered the furniture because I know it takes forever to get and I didn’t want you to stress out about it. But if you hate it, we can return it. I left all the magazines out for you to look at so you can change anything you want. I know this is mebeing a little pushy, I was just trying to help because so far you’re doing most of the hard work.”

Looking at Harris, it’s so weird to see him so uncomfortable, so unsure with a decision he made to do something nice for me, especially when doing this makes it so obvious to me that I don’t like Harris.

Like is such a basic, simple term for what I feel for this man. He is everything to me. He’s a support system, my friend, the man who has held my hair back every time I’ve thrown up. The man who brings me bagels before I get out of bed to make sure I’m not nauseous first thing in the morning. The man who will hold my hand while I deliver our baby. Our baby who was created on a night I thought was a mistake, but I think it was fate.

I knew he was the love of my life six years ago, but found myself trapped—but now, I’m exactly where I want to be.

With a man I’m still in love with.

Walking forward tentatively, I try to build up my courage. My courage to make a move—to push us in the right direction. His eyes widen the closer I get, darkening with question as my eyes fall to his lips. The second I’m within touching distance Harris’s lips fall to mine.

Crashing down, his mouth feasts on mine, hungry for my kiss, my taste, as our tongues twist and tangle together, both desperately separately searching for more. Wrapping my arms around his neck, he takes a step forward, pressing his body into mine, his hand gripping my hips roughly as he walks me backward until my back is against the wall, never once breaking the kiss.

Pinning me against the wall, his hips holding me in place while his erection pushes against me, against my core where I’m desperate for more connection. More friction. More everything until he has nothing left to offer me.

The grip of his fingers push into my skin till it nearly painful, but it only makes me crave more. With his hands on my hips, he lifts me up, my legs wrapping around him like I’m climbing him like a tree, desperate to get as close to him as possible. Pulling back, he looks at me, his eyes wild, an untamed desire burning inside him that mirrors my own, which is both incredible and terrifying all at once. But we’ve always been so in tune, whether using our words to communicate or our bodies, it’s always been flawlessly understood. The reflection is somehow terrifying and incredible all at once, knowing just how deep we are in these rushing waters of emotions.

It’s never mattered that this marriage was “fake”. It’s never mattered that we said we weren’t going to act on our feelings or pursue something because of our baby. Not because it wasn’t important, but because our bond is too damn strong for us to ignore, especially not when the pieces are falling into place so beautiful this time.

“I need you in my bed,” he growls, his voice gravely and seductive I can’t help but shiver at his words, holding on for dear life as he maneuvers us out of what will be the nursery to his bedroom.

I’ve been in this room plenty of times, even slept in the bed before, but being in this room knowing we aren’t just toeing the line anymore, we’re long jumping across the bitch so it feels intimidating.

But not in the way where I want to run away. No, I want to run and leap across that line, just praying that when we end up on the other side, we somehow land together. Laying me down gently, he crawls over my body, a knee on either side of me as he leans down to kiss me, his mouth immediately claiming mine, dominating, a kiss that was hot and heavy before has been turned up a million degrees as his movements become less practiced and more desperate.

I fucking love it.

Pulling back, he looks at me, sitting back on his heels with a boyish grin on his face, looking at me like I’m his damn prize. But it’s in this moment that it hits me I’m about to be naked in front of Harris, and not like I am at the doctor’s office, this is different.

I’m about to be naked with Harris to have sex, and I’m honestly terrified of him seeing my body. What if he’s not attracted to me? What if the second my clothes are off he changes his mind? What if he can’t get it up because I’ve gained a few pounds and my stomach is getting rounder and rounder by the day, proven by the fact that I have to go maternity clothes shopping ASAP.

“What’s wrong,” he says, his face immediately falling, concern written in his eyes.

“I—” I start, but look away, too nervous to talk to him and make eye contact with him. It’s embarrassing. “I don’t look the same anymore. Things look… different.”

“Okay?” he says slowly, obviously confused.

“I don’t look like I used to, and I sure as hell don’t look like the girls you’re used to—” I can’t even finish my sentence before he’s kissing me quiet.

“I don’t ever want to hear you compare yourself to anyone ever again. Especially not another woman when you’re the only one I want in my bed,” Harris says, his eyes flashing with anger, and I feel like I’m being chastised, but in a way that’s hot because he’s standing up for me at the same time?

It’s confusing.

“But what if you don’t think I’m attractive anymore,” I groan, throwing my arms over my face to hide, but he immediately pulls them away, bringing one hand to his cock.

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