Several seconds tick past, giving me my answer and I slam my head into the door.
“He means well,” she says. “Sometimes it’s hard to see that he loves me, but…”
“This isn’t love. This is captivity.”
“I know,” she whispers. “But I just keep thinking about the time he gave me my mother’s car for my sixteenth birthday. He does care sometimes, doesn’t he?”
My chest twists viciously. “Open the door.”
Her breath quickens. “No.”
Pain cuts through me like a freshly sharpened blade. I’m itching to kick this door open, too, but the bedroom is small. There’s too much of a chance I could hurt her. If a single splinter touched her skin, I’d be inconsolable. “I think you might have a little bit of Stockholm syndrome, Ayla.”
God, I want to hold her. Rock her. Tell her everything will be all right. If she would just open the door. Maybe there is only one way to break through to her.
“I have to tell you something. I was never going to…tell you the truth, because I wanted you to believe your father was a good man. Youdeservea good father. But…” I rub at the dryness in my throat. “I’m the one who left your mother’s car for you in the driveway on your sixteenth birthday. With the big red bow. That was me. I spent months fixing it up.”
Silence.
I squeeze my eyes closed.
“You did a presentation on it during freshman year. An object that has special significance to you. Remember? You spoke about your mother’s car. And it was just rotting away in the shed. When I took it to the garage to work on it, your father didn’t notice it was gone.”
“No.” Her voice is faint. “He told mehe’ddone it—”
“There was a honeysuckle air freshener hanging from the rearview and three spares in the glove compartment. How would I know that?”
I get no satisfaction from the gasp on the other side of the door. A quiet sob.
“Ayla,please. Don’t cry.” I grind my forehead against the wood. “I did it because I love you. I’ve loved you since you were fourteen and I’ll fucking love you until you’re a hundred and fourteen. Open the door and let me touch you. I’m so fucked up. Ineedyou.”
The knob remains still. “I’m afraid.”
“Afraid ofme? No.” I slam my head off the door again. “I am your safest place.”
“Will you still feel that way when you find out I lied?”
Confusion breaks through my desperation. “Lied about what?”
“Being on the pill,” she whispers.
It takes me several moments to figure out what’s happening here. And I realize I’m the biggest dummy alive. We never cleared up the mistruths between us. I was on the verge of getting her to confess her pregnancy when I was arrested. I’ve been too overwrought and crazed for the last three months to acknowledge the fact that Ayla doesn’t know. She doesn’t know that I was aware of her lie from the beginning. She has no idea that I’ve been dying to get her pregnant since I first laid eyes on her.
“Ayla. Baby.” I kiss the door, pretending it’s her, pressing my stiffness into the wood and wishing it was her pretty flesh. “I knew. I knew all along you weren’t on the pill.” My cock is getting harder by the second just talking about this. “Are you pregnant with our first child on the other side of this door?”
Instead of answering out loud, Ayla unlocks the door and slowly lets it open, revealing herself.Oh, sweet mother of God. She’s the most delicate, exquisite vision I’ve ever seen in my life. In a tank top and panties, her soft skin glows in the sunlight. Seeing the slight swell of her tummy sends my pulse spiking, hammering. A hot shiver goes through my dick and balls.
And herface.
Those tear-stained cheeks and big eyes. I would welcome the chance to die for this girl.
“How did you become even more of an angel?” I say gruffly, walking forward on my knees and wrapping my arms around her waist, kissing her belly over and over. This is all I’ve been dreaming about for four years. My deepest wish has been granted and a sense of rightness is locking into place. Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine…
“I could say the opposite about you,” she breathes, hesitantly combing her fingers through my hair, her tears splashing onto my shoulders. “You look like the devil.”
“That’s who I turn into without you. The fucking devil.” I gain my feet slowly, dragging my open mouth up the center of her ripe body, my fingers working my zipper down. “But to you, Ayla? Right now, I’m God.”
I scoop her up so fast that she gasps—and then, oh Christ, I’m finally back in heaven. I’ve got Ayla’s legs around my waist, her pussy rubbing around on my hard cock. Tears are running down her cheeks and she’s searching my eyes, her lips trembling. “You’re really not mad that I lied? That I got pregnant on purpose?”