Scorched(7)
Molly giggled as Devil growled playfully against her neck, his hands clenching on her ass. “Give me fifteen minutes,” she ordered before spinning on her heel and hurrying down the hallway toward the master bathroom.
Chapter Three
Molly
Closing the door to the bathroom with her foot, Molly quickly shed her ratty old sweatshirt and nursing bra before she took care of pumping her full breasts. The last thing she wanted to do is leak milk all over her hubby. She already felt like she’d failed him once by not making their six-week appointment special; the last thing she wanted to do was kill the romantic mood she was trying to set now by squirting breast milk in his eye during a pivotal moment. That certainly wasn’t their kink, she thought, wrinkling her nose as she dumped the fluid down the sink and tossed her bra and shirt toward the wicker hamper in the corner of the room. Pivoting to her left, she twisted the silver water taps and began to fill the tub.
Peeling her soft cotton sweatpants down her legs, Molly sighed as she turned to stare at her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors lining the east wall of the bathroom. Tilting her head, she studied her body. Wrinkling her nose at what she saw staring back at her from the mirror, Molly shook her head, lifting a hand up to pull the elastic rubber band from her hair. Shaking her head, she knew it was now entirely safe to say that petite was no longer in her vocabulary. Her freaking curves had curves. Eyeballing herself critically, she bit her lower lip painfully. This definitely wasn’t the body with which Devil was previously acquainted. While she had never considered herself to be one of those tiny waifs that could happily exist on angel whispers, she had at least attempted to maintain some sort of a figure. Well, until now, that was.
Pregnancy had not been kind to her form, leaving her body in the worst condition she’d ever been. Where once she’d had firm, toned muscles, a semi-flat, concave belly and pert bouncy breasts, now she sagged…absolutely everywhere. Molly cringed as she ran a self-conscious hand over the swell of her lower stomach. Okay, swell was a far kinder word than she should have used. It was more of a bulge. And no amount of abdominal crunches or sit-ups seemed to be designed to make that ungainly pouch disappear. Talk about disheartening. God knows she had tried everything she could think of to diminish that unseemly mass. Nothing worked!
Then, as if that unsightly bulge wasn’t enough to draw her attention, there were those faint white lines...those garish stretch marks standing out against her pale skin like neon arrows directing the way to her unfortunate attributes. The only thing she might have going in her favor was the fact that she had at least managed to do a small amount of landscaping in all the right places earlier in the week when the baby had taken a longer nap than usual. But that was not enough to raise her spirits at the moment. Not at all. And while she was inventorying the substantial damage to her body, she really ought to mention that brand new zip code that seemed to have grown around her hips and thighs.
No, pregnancy had definitely NOT agreed with her body at ALL!
Who knew that her seven pound bundle of love could inflict so much damage on her figure, leaving at least an extra fifteen pounds hanging off her previously almost-slender frame?
Molly closed her eyes for a moment and drew a deep breath, trying to center herself as she leaned one hand against the cool marble counter of the bathroom sink. What the hell was she going to do here? It wasn’t as though she could escape through the bathroom window, she thought, cracking one eye to assess the opening above the Jacuzzi. Devil would just chase her down.
It might not have been so bad if her husband was the happily oblivious sort. But, he was not. Never had been. Ever.
Oh, no, her handsome hunk was a visually-oriented lover that memorized every single crack and crevice, hill and valley, peak and pitfall of her body. Before baby, this keen eye for detail had made her an exceptionally happy and exceedingly satisfied woman. Devil had a way of taking his time as he had traveled up and down her body as he’d loved her. It had made her feel special and valued. Wanted and loved.
But, if she was going to be honest (and generally, she tried to be truthful), she didn’t think the Casanova she’d married was exactly going to enjoy the new rides decorating her personal playground. Especially once he got a look at the new equipment.
Her body had changed – changed in a big, bad way.
Yep, her figure was markedly fuller while his cut physique had remained unaltered by the cruel hands of pregnancy.
How the hell was that fair? And what if that wonderfully hot, sensual pastime that they’d both once loved so much (yeah, folks, the S-E-X)… what if it just didn’t work for them anymore? What if, once he got a full view of the ‘new’ look she was sporting, her husband decided that he wanted a younger, firmer model? What then? Devil Delancy was a red-blooded, hot-headed, domineering Southern male, after all. He was accustomed to all the bells and whistles that went with her old body. What if she just couldn’t satisfy him anymore?