Page 133 of Sinful Blaze

“So am I.” I adjust her on my lap until I’m cradling her in my arms. “We’re going to this dinner. You are going to wear something sexy as fuck, I’m going to wear a tuxedo that makes your panties drop, and we are going to be the envy of every wrinkled old fuck still breathing oxygen without a tank. And you,” I say to her rounded tummy, “are going to make Mommy and Daddy look like responsible, loving parents. I expect you to be on your best behavior, young lady.”

That makes Daphne giggle, which in turn makes me relax in ways I didn’t know I needed until now. Does she have any idea how much I truly, deeply need her? Just to hold, to touch, to see her smile and hear her laugh?

To have this beautiful, sensual, brilliant reminder that my life isn’t completely fucked?

“So, now that that’s settled…” I nip at her neck. “Tell me all about how Brittany got her ass kicked.”

Daphne rolls her eyes and laughs. “I didn’t do anything.”

“That’s not what I heard. I heard you practically flayed her alive.”

She blushes. “Okay. Maybe that part happened.”

“I love it. Tell me all about it.”

“Well, I mean… Okay, explain to me how people just don’t process words? Like, you can say it and write it and chisel it into a giant marble statue and they still just…” She mimics something flying over her head. “She thinks I still want Conrad.”

“Do you?”

Daphne nearly flays me alive with the look she levels at me. “Be serious.”

“Point taken. Go on.”

“See? Was that hard? I don’t think that’s hard. But for some reason, Brittany thinks I’m out to ruin her life and steal everything she has—and I’ve gotta be honest, she’s never had something I wanted.”

“Tell me how you really feel.”

She blushes again and looks away. “Sorry. I just?—”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m loving this side of you. Keep talking.” I rock myself against her plump ass to prove my point. “I might just get off before we have to leave.”

“You’re terrible,” she mutters with a stifled laugh.

“You’re worse. Finish your story—I’m almost there.”

Blushing and grinning all at once, she keeps telling me the story—and all I can think is, That’s my woman.

How the fuck did I get so lucky?

51

DAPHNE

I’m in nothing but my bra and panties when Pasha waltzes into the bedroom an hour later.

“Excuse you!” I gasp, automatically trying to cover myself.

He sighs at me. “Did you just forget all about the baby growing inside you? The one I put there?”

“There’s still a door to knock on!”

“That would ruin the surprise.” He sets the box he’s holding on the bed and pulls the lid off. “See? Surprise.”

My eyes feel like they’re about to pop out of my head. “Surprise” is one way to word it.

Stunning is another.

Pasha lifts the gown by the beaded shoulder straps and draws it out of the box. The straps and bust are completely beaded over a backdrop of taupe satin, a deep V-neck that ends at an empire waist. The rest of the gown is a cloud of chiffon silk. Beneath the dress, still in the box, is a pair of matching beaded flats.

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