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Vegas, Baby - Volume 3

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I loved how Saint was willing to see my side of things as much as I hated disappointing Marcus. I glanced over at him and thought about how excited he’d been when he was telling me about the class they’d watched this afternoon. “I guess if the karate is for toddlers, it can’t be too bad.”

“The kids were cute as hell in their little uniforms.” He tugged me into his embrace, my back pressed to his chest and his chin resting on the top of my head as we watched our children play together. “I think you’ll be surprised by how the classes go. The kids run through extremely basic kata, and there’s no physical contact among the students. They’re nothing like my matches, more of a Matchbox car compared to a semitruck.”

“Go ahead and sign Marcus up, and I’ll look for a tumbling class or something so Aria won't feel left out,” I offered as I rubbed my thighs together, remembering how turned on I got whenever I watched him fight.

“Thanks, angel eyes. You’re such a good mom,” he murmured against my ear. His hot breath sent a shiver down my spine that intensified at the heat in his tone when he added, “I think you need another baby, and I’m going to use my big gun to give you one tonight.”

He followed through on that promise...times two.

Extra Epilogue

Angelique

“Why does everyone always want to rub my belly?” I grumbled, glaring at the back of the mom who’d gasped when I’d slapped her hand away. She was offended enough to bypass her usual spot and move all the way to the other side of the mat. That was fine by me because her new location made it harder for her to ogle my hubby. Too many of the single moms at these practices treated the dojo like a meat market instead of paying attention to their kids. Not that Saint ever noticed. His focus was always on the kids and me. “It’s not as though that woman has said more than a few words to me in passing before now, but she still thought it was totally okay to touch my stomach. And it’s all your fault.”

Saint’s brows drew together, and a wrinkle popped up in the middle of his forehead. “How is it all my fault? I didn’t tell the woman she could touch you, and I never would. My hands are the only ones that are supposed to be on you.”

His flash of jealousy made me shiver, but I refused to allow my drenched panties to distract me from my point. Rubbing my hands over my belly, I explained, “Because I’m freakishly large after you put two freaking huge babies in me.”

“Wrong. You’re fucking perfect, angel eyes,” he corrected.

I jabbed him in the side with my elbow and jerked my chin toward all the kids going through a kata only a few feet in front of us. “Watch your language, big guy. There are too many little ears around, and lots of parents who won’t be thrilled if their children end up with potty mouths like I’m sure ours will.”

“My little princess would never swear.” He beamed a smile Aria’s way as she mirrored her big brother’s movements. She was so freaking cute in her little white uniform, with her tiny nose scrunched up while she concentrated.

“I’m not so sure about that. She mimics everything Marcus does, which is why she refused to go to the ballet class I signed her up for and begged you to do karate until you finally caved.” I bumped my shoulder against his arm. “And my baby boy is your mini-me. Eventually, he’s going to repeat something you’ve said in front of Aria. Then she’s going to do the same in front of her little karate friends. And I’m going to hand the phone over to you when someone calls to complain.”

He flashed me a grin that would’ve made my ovaries explode if I wasn’t already pregnant with twins. “I’m an MMA champion, angel eyes. None of the dads are going to give me too much crap. They’d be too afraid to see me here later.”

Thinking about how the moms would quickly switch from anger to flirtation, I mumbled, “Whatever.”

Saint wrapped his arm around me, and I felt his chest shake as he chuckled. We stayed cuddled together until the Sensei finished leading the kids through the rest of their katas. When he called Marcus forward, I pulled out my cell phone to snap a bunch of pictures. My baby boy’s chest was all puffed up when the Sensei announced that he was moving up to the class for the five- to seven-year-olds.

“I can’t believe he’s five already,” I sniffled as I shoved my phone back in my purse. “That means karate with the older kids next week and kindergarten next month.”


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