Loving Storm (Ashes & Embers 5)

“Holy fuck that feels good.” I exhale, pulling her head into the thrust of my hips. Her hands tighten on my thighs, the vibration of her moans buzzing around my dick. When she looks up at me—water trickling down her face, steam rising around us, and her mouth swollen with my cock—I can’t take any more and surge into her throat. The movement of her throat, swallowing me, vaults another wave of maddening desire through my body. I pull her to her feet and bring her mouth to mine, not leaving her lips to turn the water off.

I step out of the glass shower and grab two towels off the nearby rack. “Come here, Mrs. Valentine,” I say softly, and she comes to me to be wrapped in a towel that’s bigger than she is.

“You looked so beautiful coming down that aisle,” I tell her, closing my arms around her. “I swear my fuckin’ heart stopped when I saw you.”

“I felt the same way when I saw you,” she murmurs against my chest. “I still can’t believe you’re really my husband.”

I take her hand and we move back to the bedroom. We nibble on strawberries and whipped cream and sip champagne until I pull her under the covers and make love to her until the sun peeks out on the horizon; then finally we fall asleep in each other’s arms.

Our honeymoon at the inn was, without a doubt, the best week of my life. We bundled up in big sweatshirts and sat on the porch drinking hot cocoa every night. I played guitar in front of the fireplace and caught Evie staring in awe at her wedding band, like she couldn’t believe she was actually married. We stayed up late talking, propped up on pillows in bed, and every time, I’d kiss her mid-chatter and ravish her until we could barely keep our eyes open.

I finally got the girl, and the girl finally got me.

Chapter Twelve

Gram was right.

Was there ever any doubt? I mean, it’s Gram. She and Asher have crazy gifts of intuition.

I have four pregnancy tests lined up on the bathroom sink, two with the blue plus sign and two that actually say “pregnant” in the little window.

I whip out my phone and bring up my journal app, which has a calendar feature where I also keep little notes—like when I get my period. I swipe back a month, then one more.

Shit.

The last time I logged my period was the third week of November. It’s now mid-January.

I could be two months pregnant. Or maybe less or maybe more pregnant, depending on when it actually happened. Which could have been any day, since Storm and I have sex almost every day.

My stomach lurches so hard I hope it didn’t flip my tiny baby over. How did I not realize I missed my period?

The same way you forgot to take your pills, Evelyn. Your brain is a merry-go-round of spinning thoughts.

I check the tests again, but nothing has changed. I pick up the instructions and read them for at least the eighth time, wondering if maybe I skipped a step and now have four false positives, but there’s not much to skip. I peed on the sticks and waited.

Cold fear surges through my entire body. I always dreamed of having a baby someday. I just didn’t expect someday to be this soon. I have no experience with babies at all. No nieces or nephews or little siblings. The only baby I ever raised is Halo, and he was a kitten, not a real-life human baby.

What if I’m not a good mother? What if I have panic attacks for the entire nine months, worrying over every little symptom? I can see myself living on WebMD all day long, convinced I have three months to live.

What if I get fat as a cow and Storm is turned off by me? Gorgeous, sexy women still flirt with him all the time. What if my vag gets all stretched out and he doesn’t ever whisper “holy fuck you are so tight” again?

“Evie!”

I jump at the sound of his voice and knock two of the test strips onto the floor.

“You okay, baby? You’ve been in there for half an hour.”

I kneel down on the floor and scramble to pick up the tests. “I’m fine…just give me a sec.”

The door opens and slams into my skull. “Ow.” Rubbing my head, I look up at him as he stares down at me, his hair hanging over his face.

“Shit…I’m sorry…what are you doing on the floor?” His eyes shift to the tests strewn on the floor, then to the ones on the counter.

He grabs one and stares at it with his mouth open. Pushing his hair out of his face, he looks back at me and blinks.

“Evie are these…”

I nod rapidly. “I think I’m pregnant.”

“You think?” A huge smile spreads across his face. “They’re all positive, baby. Is this why you’ve been sick?”

“I thought it was the stomach flu. Or anxiety.”

“We’re gonna have a baby.” His eyes glaze over as he helps me stand up, and his expression hasn’t changed. He’s still smiling that huge smile, but he looks like he might be in shock.

My hands tremble as I gather up the tests. “I’m so sorry, Storm. I forgot to take my pills a few times. Everything was so crazy with the wedding. It’s my fault.”

“Babe, why are you apologizing?”

I peer up at him with my heart racing. “I’m not sure you wanted a baby now. We never really talked about when…”

He holds my face in his hands. “I want the baby, Evie. I want the baby now.”

A lump of happy emotion forms in my throat. “It takes a few months.”

“I know. I’m just fucking excited.” His lips come down on mine, his hands splayed across my cheeks. When he pulls away, his eyes are glistening with happy tears to match my own. “We’re going to have a little girl who looks just like you, Evie.”

A laughing sob erupts from me. “I don’t think you get to pick.”

My favorite mischievous grin crosses his lips. “C’mon, Evie. I always get what I want. We’re having a little girl.”

I jump up and down, with a burst of giddiness, and throw my arms around him. “I can’t even argue with that,” I tease.

“I love you.” He hugs me to his chest. “We have to go call Gram. And my parents.”

My anxiety rears up. “Are you sure? Maybe we should wait until we see a doctor to make sure everything is okay. We don’t want to get hopes up.”

A shot of fear blazes through his eyes, extinguishing the ecstatic light that was just there, and I immediately try to take it back. “I’m being silly. Let’s go call them right now. Gram will be so excited.” I grab one of the test strips. “We’ll text her a picture.”

His beautiful smile and the sparkle in his eye returns, and I vow to never, ever, let him feel even a glimmer of a doubt about me or the baby again.

Chapter Thirteen

I watch her from the doorway for a few moments, while she stares at her phone with an angry frown, before I cross the room to sit on the edge of our bed next to her. Having a cold sucks, and I hate that she’s feeling sick when she’s six months pregnant. She looks completely miserable and uncomfortable.

I take the phone out of her hand and put it on the nightstand. “What’s wrong?” I ask. “You’re making the “Evie’s upset” face, and that’s banned for eternity.”

“More stupid social media stuff. All these crazy girls online are saying they’re pregnant with your baby too. Are people really this twisted?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

Her jawline tightens. “It drives me crazy. It’s like they want to take everything away from me and try to make it theirs.”

“No one can take anything away from you, Evie. I’m yours. This baby is ours. Our life is ours. They live in an online delusion.”

“I’m sorry, I know it’s not your fault. But this chick stuck her head onto my body in one of our pictures together, and she’s sharing it all over her Facebook and Instagram and her friends are actually congratulating her. It’s crazy and it makes me feel sick.”

Some of the female fans take their fantasies to an epic level of insanity. I wish there were some way to make people stop posting all sorts of crazy shit and lies about me, but there’s nothing I

can do about it except not to engage in it. Evie’s usually good about just laughing it off, but the pregnancy hormones are making her extra sensitive.

“You have to ignore it. They just want attention. I don’t want you getting upset about this crap. You’re supposed to be resting.”

She sneezes, and I hand her a tissue from the box lying next to her.

“You want some of my special juice, baby?” I ask softly, pushing her hair out of her face and stroking her cheek and forehead. “That always makes you feel better.”

“Storm, I can’t even think about sex right now. I can barely breathe.”

“I meant my orange juice.”

“Oh.” She sniffles. “That would be amazing. You’re the best husband in the world.”

I lean down and kiss her cheek. “Now I want to make love to you.”

She smiles weakly. “I’m all gross and sneezy and fat. And I can’t breathe out of my nose, so I can’t even kiss you.”

“You’re perfect.” I nuzzle my face into her neck and kiss just behind her ear, where it drives her crazy. “I’m going to show you just how perfect you are.” I move my lips to her throat and nip at her soft flesh. “Then I’m going to make you fuzzy orange juice, and we’re going to spend the day in bed.”

She snakes her arms around my neck and pulls me down on the bed with her. “How can I say no to that?”

“You can’t.” I lift her thin T-shirt and caress her belly. “Take a nap, little baby bean,” I whisper. “Daddy has to love on mommy for a little while.”

I pull her shirt off and cup her swollen breasts in my hands, gently squeezing as I circle her nipple with my tongue, sucking it between my lips when it hardens against my tongue. I move my mouth to her other breast, lightly pinching the one I just left between my thumb and forefinger. In no time she’s writhing beneath my touch, holding my head to her breasts with her hands threaded in my hair. She gets turned on super fast since she got pregnant, and I can’t say I don’t love it. Her curvier body and her begging moans drive me even wilder for her. I tug her cotton shorts and panties off and toss them to the end of the bed before I quickly undress myself.

As I lie down next to her, I brush my lips softly across hers and cup her full breast in my hand, gently squeezing as I move my lips down to nibble on the pulse of her neck.

“Mmm…” she moans when I slide my hand down over her hip to the apex of her thighs. Her legs part, inviting my hand to delve between them, and my cock twitches with want at how wet and slippery she already is. Sliding two fingers into her slit, I rub slow circles around her throbbing clit. She turns onto her side, fitting her body against mine, her firm ass pressing against my cock.