Page 63 of With Us

Never lost control.

Never came so fucking fast.

I grabbed my phone from the side table, checking my messages before shooting off a quick email to Doctor Coran. If Dahlia wanted to change her mind, I’d cancel, but I wanted it set. Sliding my cock through her wetness, I’d nearly come just thinking about what it’d be like to see my baby growing in her. My dad bringing up babies earlier in the night hadn’t been the first time the thought had entered my mind.

But I was a selfish fucker, and I wanted her to myself for a while.

Especially if that meant feeling her with nothing between us.

I held her tighter to me, my cock growing harder with each sigh and movement she made. I knew it wouldn’t be long before I was waking her up so I could take her again.

I’m fucking addicted, and out of my damn mind.

And I was fine with both.

Chapter Ten

Chop the Eggplant

Dahlia

“Come on. Open, open, open,” I ordered. Clutching the screwdriver, I was tempted to stab the machine as my frustration grew.

It wasn’t the only thing I was frustrated with.

Since the night we’d had sex for the first, and second and third, time the week before, Theo and I had barely seen each other. I’d had to work extra at Weggies. On my one night off, Luc had called Theo away with a work emergency.

Normally I worked Mondays at both Java Brew and Weggies, but the café was closed for a few days for painting and an unfortunate bathroom repair. I was grateful to have missedthatduring the weekend. I’d been excited to sleep in on a Monday, but Jerry had called to ask me to come in a few hours early in exchange for getting out early. Since that meant I could finally have dinner, and more, with Theo, I’d agreed.

I was regretting that decision.

Finally popping open the compartment, I wrestled with the empty label ring.

“Excuse me? Miss?”

Glancing over my shoulder to confirm he was talking to me, I set the new labels down on the out of commission produce scale. “Hi, can I help you with something?”

Dressed in a black chef’s coat, the man held up a couple eggplants. “Do you have any more?”

I mentally reviewed the produce order we should’ve received earlier in the day. “We should. How many do you need?”

“A lot.” He checked his watch and swore. Looking up, he forced a smile despite the obvious worry in his expression. “A hundred, more if you have it.”

“Let me check.”

Grabbing one of the workers from the warehouse, we quickly loaded a cart with boxes of eggplant. I wheeled it near the doorway leading into the store and left it with the warehouse worker while I got the shopper.

“Do you have any gloves I could use?” he asked.

The warehouse worker handed him a pair before grabbing some empty boxes for the man.

I stood and watched for a few minutes as the man sorted through the eggplant, leaving some while adding others to his box.

“What am I looking for?” I said, grabbing my own pair of gloves.

“They have to be medium ones, not too big or small.” He held one up. “Full. A nice shiny, deep purple.”

Nodding, I joined in, holding the first few up for his approval. Once I knew what was needed, it was a slightly faster process. “What do you need so much for?”

---