AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But it would explain why her tits were so full and big and fucking brilliant.
And why her skin had that insane fucking glow.
The rest of her clothes are the furthest thing from maternity-wear, so I’m willing to entertain the idea that these could belong to a friend…
But a woman like that is probably spoken for already, and if her boyfriend or husband or whoever the fuck has knocked her up, I can’t even blame the guy.
If she were mine, I’d put a baby in her the minute she even entertained the idea.
Which is a pretty fucked up thing to think about a woman I only just met an hour ago.
I guess there’s just no denying it, though. The heart wants what the heart wants—and my heart wants to be a dad, even though in my head I know it’s a complete no-go.
And what my dick wants…
I fold the maternity pants up and place them in her laundry basket.
What my dick wants is irrelevant right now. I ought to thank her husband or boyfriend or whoever the fuck for the privilege of seeing her like that at all.
And then I ought to stay the fuck away from her—because if I let myself fantasize any harder about this Botticelli hottie, I won’t have any other choice but to steal her away from the poor schmuck.
Still, there’s no denying it…she’s going to be a hot mom.
And she’ll be needing a maternity doctor.
I figure that’s the final step of my apology. I pull out my prescription pad and scrawl her a quick note:
Sabrina—
Sorry for the laundry mishap earlier. If you need recommendations for a good doctor, feel free to drop by.
—Rainier, Apt. 21A
If I knew where to take the laundry, I’d bring it to her doorstep…but maybe that’s for the best.
Because then I wouldn’t just be tempted to talk to her again.
Then, I’d want to steal her away in the fucking night.
Her husband or boyfriend or whoever the fuck probably doesn’t deserve her anyway.
Christ.
I grab my own basket of clean clothes and head back up to my place.
But while the clothes might be clean…there are nothing but dirty thoughts about that gorgeous blonde goddess in my mind.
Three
Sabrina
I’ve got the maternity pants in one hand and Rainier’s note in the other, a blush on my cheeks and a swear on my lips.
“FUCK.” I crumble the note up and shove it in my pocket. “Fuck, fucking fuck fuck fuckity…fuck.”
Which sums this situation up pretty fucking perfectly, if you ask me.
Look, I’m super not pregnant, okay? I’m like, the total opposite of pregnant. If I wasn’t late for work already, I’d head up to 21A and bang down the door to tell him so myself.
