Since when is she shy?
Is it an act? I watch her scurry to pick up her clothes and rush into the bathroom.
There’s still no door, and I can see every inch of her body, but I pretend not to care. Like her nakedness means nothing to me when all I want to do is throw her back down on the bed and fuck her again.
One look at her, and I grow hard.
I wait by the open bedroom door and shift on my feet. She is an impossible distraction. Nikki will get me killed if I’m not careful.
But I know it’s worth it.
She’s worth it.
She’s thrown on the t-shirt that she wore earlier, but it’s obvious she’s not wearing a bra.
I shut my jaw, trying not to stare.
Her jeans hug her curves in every delicious way possible. She saunters out of the bathroom, not looking the least bit like she’s just been fucked.
How the hell does she do it? Toy with my heart and my cock.
“I’m dressed,” she says and gestures toward the clothes that she’s wearing.
“Good. I’m taking you outside to the garden.”
Moreno is right. A pregnant woman needs sunshine and, more importantly, vitamin D.
Her bottom lip tugs between her teeth, and she follows me out of the bedroom. I leave the door open. There’s no sense in closing it or keeping anyone else out.
My hand falls to her lower back, finding the perfect spot to sit as I lead her down the stairwell and through the kitchen.
There’s a back door, an entrance that leads directly to the garden. It has a small fence, one that could easily be climbed, but there’s a taller gate just outside, with guards at the post and along the property line.
She’s not going anywhere, even if she tries to run.
“I thought you could use some sunshine,” I say as I open the door and let her step out first.
“Are you telling me I’m pasty?”
She’s tentative at first with one foot and then the other as she steps out onto the stone pavers.
Is it disbelief?
I follow her outside and close the door behind us. There’s no sense in letting the air conditioning outside.
Her shoulders fall, and her head dips back, eyes closed, basking in the bright warmth of the sun shining overhead. The sky is blue without so much as a cloud above or along the horizon.
Stepping around her, I stalk off toward the wooden bench and have a seat. There are flowers growing along the fence line for decoration, but most of the interior of the garden has vegetables and herbs for cooking and preparing meals.
I sit on the bench and study her. The corner of her lips curl in a faint smile. She appears blissful, almost happy.
My intent was never to keep her here, locked up in my home.
But she’s pregnant with my child. What other option is there?
After several minutes, she comes to sit beside me on the bench. Her fingers are tucked at the edge of the wood, gripping the seat. “Thank you,” she whispers.
“I’d like to think that I can trust you, Nicole.”
She shivers, and I can’t tell if it’s involuntary, or she’s cold. The sun feels warm, but I also have a button-down shirt on and am dressed for the day, for business.
“Please, call me Nikki. Only Papa calls me Nicole.” Her voice is distant, her eyes fixated on the flowers. Or maybe it’s the small fence several feet away at the edge of the garden.
There’s something about the way she says Nicole, the way her nose scrunches and her bottom lip juts out that insinuates she doesn’t like it.
“Nikki, I’d like to trust you. We’re inevitably tied together from now on, with that baby growing inside of you.My baby,” I say.
I brush a strand of her dark curls behind her ear.
“A baby shouldn’t grow up without two parents and your father. It was with his blessing that we marry.”