Page 109 of Duke
Wheeler collapses against my chest, boneless, breathing hard. Her hand finds my thigh. She gives me a hard, almost painful squeeze.
“You okay?” I pant.
She shakes her head. “Yes. No. I don’t know, Duke.”
Her voice is thick. My heart trips to a stop.
She’s crying.
Steam billows around us. I should probably get her out of here sooner rather than later—the heat can’t be good for her or the baby.
Look at that. I’m already thinking of both of them. Not just Wheeler. Does that mean I’m in this for them both now? That I’d have this baby not just to keep Wheeler around but because I really wanna be a daddy too?
This about-face I’m doing gives me whiplash. Twenty-four hours ago, I was sure I wasn’t ready to be a dad. At the very least, I was sure it was the right call to prioritize other things—work, travel, friendships.
Now?
Now I’m thinking I want everything, all at once. This girl and our baby and my evolving notion of freedom.
Am I nuts to think that could happen? Or is that just how life works—you make choices, and you work your ass off to build a dream life out of them, however messy or chaotic or exhausting it might be?
Because I ain’t afraid of hard work.
I am afraid of fucking this up and losing my chance with Wheeler.
“Aw, sweetheart.” I nudge her head to the side with my nose and kiss her neck. “Imma make it okay. Give me a minute, yeah? Then I’ll dry you off and take you to bed.”
She nods. “Sounds nice.”
She starts to rock her hips again, but I use my hands to still the motion.
“Let me take over. You relax. Unless you wanna come again?”
Wheeler scoffs. “I think I might literally die if that happens.”
“We’ll wait a bit, then,” I say into her neck. “I need you to stick around.”
Then I start to fuck her in earnest. Holding on to her hips, I lift her a little so I can rock into her cunt. The friction is deliciousand deliciously maddening. She moans, her head falling back even farther.
“You feel so good, baby,” she whispers.
Sensation, searing and hot, rips through my center. The white light returns. I squeeze my eyes shut and surrender, the pressure in my balls releasing in a series of agonizing pulses. It feels like falling off a bike or a skateboard, the pavement rising up to meet me before I slam into it in a burning collision of skin and blood and bone.
I black out. For a second, an hour, a year, I have no fucking clue. All I know is when I come to, Wheeler’s got my hands in hers, our fingers twined over her belly.
My heart thunders.The baby.
Our baby.
I’m gripped by that fierceness again.
I think I wanna have this kid. And if we have it, there’s no way I’m letting another man raise her.
No way I’m letting another man touch Wheeler the way I’m touching her right now.
These girls—I’m still assuming we’ll have a daughter—aremine. Maybe staking my claim makes me a caveman, but I don’t give a fuck. I couldn’t live with myself knowing I wasn’t there for them. Knowing I didn’t work my fingers to the bone to make them happy.
Take care of them the way they deserve to be cared for.
