I had to pee. So bad.
And having crazy sex with Slam twice wasn’t making it any easier.
“Hurry back,” he said. “I’ll be ready.”
“Down boy.”
“Never,” he said.
I walked to the bathroom and sat down. A second before I was going to go, I remembered something. I reached for the second drawer and saw the box of pregnancy tests. Slam and I had been having so much sex… and I was so far late…
I grabbed the box and held my pee for another minute so I could get a test out and ready.
I then stuck it between my legs and bit my lip. I held my left hand out and stared at the engagement ring.
I was shaking.
Could this be happening for real?
thirty-five
(slam)
MONTHS LATER
I was in bed, naked, waiting for Belle to come back. There was nothing better in the world. Shit, everything outside the apartment was a mess, but that was the world’s problem, not mine.
I threw the covers off me and grabbed my jeans. I stepped in and lifted them up.
I went to the kitchen to make some coffee for my girl. There was nothing sexier than seeing Belle sitting up in bed holding a mug of coffee. When she touched the mug, it would make her shiver and her nipples would press against the shirt she wore.
Yeah, I always had my motives for doing something romantic.
I set up the coffee maker, hit the power button, and Belle let out a scream.
I grabbed for my gun, but there was no gun sticking out of my jeans. The gun was on the floor in the bedroom under my Reap leather cut.
I rushed out of the kitchen, fearing the worst. There was a window in the bathroom and maybe someone had attacked her. I was geared to fucking kill anyone who came within distance of my girl. She had been through enough in life and I was going to be her outlaw warrior until the day I fucking died.
I turned and almost fell over, grabbing at the doorknob.
I ripped open the bathroom door and saw Belle standing at the bathroom sink. She had a hand on each side of the sink and she hung over it.
“Belle?”
She turned and looked at me. Tears in her eyes.
I looked around the bathroom, looking for blood. Looking for something that could explain why she was so upset.
“What is it?” I asked.
Belle moved her right hand and then held something out to me.
It took me a couple seconds to realize what it was.
Holy shit, it’s a pregnancy test.
Even more of a holy shit was that it was positive.
I dropped the test and grabbed Belle. My arms went around her and I lifted her up. She let out a cry and lost all control of her emotions.
“We’re having a baby,” I said.
“I’m pregnant, Slam,” she said.
I spun her around and I started to laugh. I never fucking laughed. It wasn’t in my nature. But the idea that Belle was going to carry my baby - our baby - and bring it into this wild world… it was just…
“Fuck,” I said.
Belle looked at me. She blinked away a tear. “Fuck, Slam.”
She put her hands to my face.
We kissed.
I knew somewhere in her mind she was already expediting the wedding so she could look beautiful in a wedding dress before she started showing. What she needed to understand was that she didn’t need a wedding dress to be beautiful.
I carried my bride-to-be back to the bedroom. My hands cupped her bare ass as I put her on the bed. I slid them around and went right up her shirt. As my hands crested her perfect tits I couldn’t help but get hard thinking about how much bigger they were going to get.
Belle smiled, her blue eyes glistening more than I’d ever seen them before.
I moved my hands up again and Belle quickly sat up. I took her shirt off and before it could hit the floor her hands were at my jeans, opening them.
A minute later I was back inside her, right where I felt most comfortable.
I was her warrior and she was the mother of my unborn child.
I got the nickname Slam by the way I would beat the hell out of people and slam them to the ground, walls, against windows.
The truth… Belle was the one who did it worse.
She slammed herself against my outlaw heart and found a pulse.
THE END.