Page 77 of Tempting Kat
“What are you doing?” I ask, stilling under his touch.
“Imagining,” he says simply, his voice dropping to that dangerous register that makes my thighs clench. “You'd be showing by now if you weren't still on those pills you think I don't know about.”
My body goes rigid. Fuck. How does he know everything?
“I don't know what you're talking about,” I lie, even though it's pointless.
His laugh is dark and knowing against my ear. “You're a terrible liar, Katarina.” His fingers continue their tapping, almost like he's counting. “I know exactly how many pills you've taken from that pack. Exactly how many you have left.”
My blood runs cold, then hot. “You went through my things?”
“I protect what's mine.” His hand presses more firmly against my lower belly. “And this is mine too.”
I should be furious. I should elbow him in his stupid ego-filled gut, but instead I just shrug him off and shove the basket at him.
I shove past him, my face burning with a mix of anger and something else I don't want to name. “Well, since you like going through my shit so much, you can put the laundry away too,” I snap, pushing the basket hard against his chest.
Conrad catches it effortlessly, his mouth curling into that infuriating smirk that makes me want to slap him and fuck him in equal measure.
“That's not the punishment you think it is, Kitty Kat,” he says, his voice like warm whiskey. “I enjoy handling things that touch your body.”
“You're such a fucking creep,” I mutter, but there's no real heat behind it.
He sets the basket down on the dryer and steps closer, crowding me against the washing machine. His hands bracket my hips, fingers digging in just enough to make me gasp.
“Besides,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear, “those pills might not be working as well as you think. You've been sleeping more. Getting nauseous in the mornings. Your tits are more sensitive when I suck them.”
My heart hammers against my ribs. “That's—that's not?—”
“Not what?” His hand slides under the shirt I'm wearing, cupping my breast. His thumb brushes over my nipple, and I can't help the whimper that escapes me. “Not possible? Birth control fails, baby. “
I push his hand away and walk away from him and toward my office to look at my pills.
My stomach flips at his words repeating over and over in my head.
Could he be right?
Chapter 24
Conrad
Iwatch her stomp away, her perfect ass swaying beneath my shirt, and laugh to myself. Fucking adorable when she's pissed.
The smirk on my face is damn near splitting my skin as I walk back to the kitchen.
My marinara sauce is simmering perfectly, the rich scent filling the air. I give it a slow stir, tasting a small spoonful. Needs more basil. I add a pinch, my mind still on Katarina and what might be growing inside her.
I'm almost positive she's pregnant. The signs are all there—the fatigue, the way she's been avoiding certain foods, how her tits seem fuller in my hands. The way she's been emotional as fuck lately. My girl thinks she's been taking her birth control religiously, but she hasn't noticed the switch I made three weeks ago.
Yeah, I know. It's fucked up. Replacing her pills with sugar pills crosses a line even I recognize. But I don't regret it. Not for a fucking second.
By any means necessary.
That's been my code since I laid eyes on her. The moment I saw her behind that bar, pouring drinks with that fuck-you attitude and those curves that made my mouth water, I knew she was mine. I just had to make her see it too.
I take another taste of the sauce. Perfect now. I lower the heat and put the lid on, letting it simmer while I pour myself a glass of whiskey.
The first sip burns pleasantly down my throat as I lean against the counter. I wonder if she's counting her pills right now, trying to figure out if she missed any. She hasn't. I was meticulous when I switched them, making sure the count was exactly right. I even matched the color and size.
