Page 90 of His Big Bad Stick

He hits the brakes, pulls to the side of the road and turns to look at me.

Oh, yeah, I have the wires in his brain totally twisted up.

“Very hungry,” I whisper. “Not me. The baby.”

I can only imagine what he wants to say to me right then.

It takes him a few seconds to finally speak.

“What kind of toppings does the baby want?”

Turns out the cravings for mushrooms on the pizza did not agree with actually eating the mushrooms on the pizza. Meaning I ate the plain pizza and Colver ate the mushroom pizza.

I secretly liked him listening to my commands. Even if he was a total asshole about it.

I liked when he got worked up. His muscles would grow bigger. The angry look on his face made him that much sexier. And then at the end of it, I still got my way.

I drink water.

He drinks beer.

He has a west coast hockey game on but I don’t pay attention for a second.

It’s really late now too.

It’s past midnight.

My days aren’t spent lounging around and relaxing. Not with a gallery I’m about to open.

“I should leave,” I finally say. “I have a busy day tomorrow.”

“Where are you going?” Colver asks.

I tilt my head. “What… do you mean?”

“You think you’re leaving tonight?”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s close to one in the morning, kitten. You think you’re going walk out of here, get into some car and have someone drive you home?”

“Colver…”

He stands up and motions with his left hand for me to stand.

I stupidly jump right up, my eyes going wider by the second.

My heart thumping, too hard and too fast.

Colver moves closer to me.

“You’re not leaving here,” he says.

I can’t help but mentally point out that he didn’t add the word tonight.

Meaning, what? I’m never leaving at all?

I’m his pregnant hostage now?

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