I took one breath, and everything was silent.
I took a second breath, and the clapping sound of her small hand slapping my face echoed through the room.
I took a third breath, and my hands reached for her face and my mouth covered hers.
Amelia’s lip opened to welcome me, and I kissed her with anger and passion and the longing I had hidden for so long. Her arms draped around my neck, and I pulled her close, crushing her soft body against mine. Even with her bulging stomach, she made me more aroused than any other woman on the planet.
With each soft moan that passed through her lips, my cock grew harder. I wanted—needed—to feel her warmth around me and get lost in her. I had never felt such intense desire, and it was enough to jolt me back to reality.
We couldn’t do this. I couldn’t do this.
I pulled away and stepped back. “I can’t do this.”
Amelia’s swollen and deliciously red lips curled up in a smile. She took a step in my direction. “Yes, you can. We both want this, and I’m already pregnant. There’s nothing more that can happen.”
If only that were true, I thought. There was a lot more that could happen. I could fall in love, I could have a family, I could open myself up, and then she could leave or die or get hurt, and I’d be crushed. It was a risk too high for me to take.
“No. You want this,” I said, taking another step away from her. “I told you to stay away from me, and I meant it. I don’t want to get involved with the baby or you. You can spend the night, but you have to leave in the morning. I’ll have my driver pick you up.”
Before she could see the self-directed disgust on my face, I turned around and walked toward my bedroom. I felt her eyes on me as I closed my door and sank down to the floor.
Chapter Nine
Amelia
The bed was fantastic, but I couldn’t sleep worth a crap.
For hours I tossed and turned, lost in thoughts and old dreams. As much as I wanted to hate Kellan for everything he had put me through over the last few months, I couldn’t. There was no question that he had inherited his father’s jerk gene, but now that I knew his whole story, I understood that for him it was only a defense mechanism. His true self was a lot gentler and more vulnerable than he showed, and I liked that he had allowed me to see his truth. I also hated myself for how I had handled it.
There was no denying that he wanted me as much I wanted us to be a family. I had loved him since I was a girl, and, for some bizarre reason, I loved him still. Plus, he was my child’s father, and deep down I knew that, given a chance, Kellan would be a great dad. However, I also knew that I couldn’t force him to be involved; that desire had to come from him. All I could do was lay to rest my childish dreams of how things should be, accept Kellan for what he was, and hope that one day he would wake up and own up to the feelings he so clearly had for me.
With a heavier heart and a calmer mind, I finally drifted off to sleep.
* * *
The next morning, I woke up to the brightness of the sun shining in my eyes. I fluttered my lids open and smiled when vomit didn’t instantly rise up my throat. It was the first time since I had gotten pregnant that I felt good upon waking. It was a great change that not only put me in a good mood but also gave me hope that the rest of the day would be just as great.
Swinging my legs off the bed, I stood and stretched my back. I looked at the chair where I had left my clothes the night before, but they were nowhere to be seen. In their place was a folded baby blue, long-sleeved shirt and a pair of boxer shorts. Above the clothes was a piece of paper that read:
Took your clothes to wash.
They’ll be ready soon. In the meantime, wear this. –K
I wasn’t sure how I felt about Kellan walking in while I slept naked and taking my clothes away, but the gesture of leaving clean garments for me to wear was sweet enough to make me smile.
His shirt looked like a dress on me, so I skipped the shorts and folded the sleeves as I walked out of the room. I made my way down the hall, toward the kitchen. Once I arrived there, I found Kellan sitting at the dining table with a piece of toast and a cup of coffee in front of him. At the sound of my approaching steps, he looked up from the newspaper he was reading and tossed me a lazy smile.
“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he greeted.
My lips curled up into a pleased smile. Not only did he seem to be in a much better mood, but he also looked gorgeous with his hair disheveled and his reading glasses on. He was wearing a plain white T-shirt and sweats, which made him look younger and more relaxed than usual. I liked it.
“Good morning, yourself,” I greeted, and took a seat across from him. “Did you sleep well?”