Page 123 of Claim

“I’m hungry.” I give him a little grin.

“For what, pretty girl?” He strokes my face.

“Your cock, obviously. Starved, Mikhail. I might faint in fact.” I dramatically put the back of my hand to my forehead.

His deep chuckle makes me giggle uncontrollably, calming the chaos in my brain.

“Get in the car, Anastasia,” he says as a low grumble and I squeeze my thighs.

Just like our wedding day.

“Don’t make me run. I’m too pregnant now to be chased.”

He gives my backside a playful tap. “I’ll give you whatever you want, baby. We will make it work.”

I press the tip of his nose with my finger.

“You big softie. This kid is gonna be so spoiled.”

He nods, his face falling into a mask of shadows, his eyes darkening with unspoken anger.

“Our son will have a loving childhood, Ana. I promise. I’d never let my kid go through the torture of what I had to deal with. If I ever start to resemble my father, lodge a bullet between my eyes.”

Rising onto my tiptoes, I gently brush my lips against his soft cheek.

“We’ve got this, big man. You are nothing like your father and you never will be.” I flatten my hand over his hard chest. “Your heart is far too big.”

I slip out of his grip and slide into the seat. He closes the door and gets behind the wheel.

As always, his broad hand grips my thigh and I rest mine on top, stroking his skin.

I still can’t get over how pregnant I am. It doesn’t make sense.

“Miki…”

“Yes, iskorka?”

“How the hell am I four months? I don’t get it. Isn’t the pill 99% effective? I’ve never missed a day? I’m so confused.”

I look down at our entwined fingers and he doesn’t reply.

“In a good way. I’m happy, Miki. God, I can’t wait to have a family with you. Honestly. But, I’m just a little confused. I guess it could have been back in Russia before you got my prescription?”

I stare at his side profile. His jaw tightens and I frown.

“Hello? Earth to big man? Are you even listening?”

He clears his throat.

“You’re being weird. Spit it out.” I grab his hand and shove it back in his own lap.

“I, err.”

Is he… nervous?

“Mikhail Volkov. Stop this. You’re stressing my confused little brain out.”

He lets out a sharp breath, pinching the bridge of his nose.

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