Page 81 of Fearless Bond

“You’ll be so well prepared. The baby will just slide out of you.”

“Can’t help it. Love the fullness so much.”

“Good. Because I love doing it for you. Makes me so hot to see my hand disappear up your ass.”

Slowly, the tingles abated, and I felt mellow all over.

“I’m good now,” I told Barclay, and he carefully eased his hand out. Then he carried me to the shower.

He soaped me up, lingering on my belly as always.

“I got the right piece,” he said. “It’s walnut, dry and ready. The texture is great. The delivery is coming on Thursday.”

Barclay was determined to build a crib himself, and he’d been searching for the right material for weeks.

“That’s great news. Are you spending the weekend in the shed, then?”

“No. I want to spend quality time with my mate.”

“But maybe I could be with you in the shed for a bit? I like watching you work.”

Barclay hugged me to his wet body and squeezed my ass cheeks. “You like it when I bend you over the bench.”

I smiled. “That too.”

He grazed my ear with his teeth and rasped, “You’re so horny.”

“Mm-hmm. For you, always.”

Eight months pregnant

Twelve to two was nap time at the daycare, but Toby was almost four now. He was the oldest in his group and woke up from his nap early. Sometimes, he didn’t sleep at all. He was a calm and thoughtful kid, though, easily entertained with building or coloring. Today, he climbed into my lap and put both hands on my stomach.

“Why are you fat?” he asked with a serious frown.

“It’s not just me. There’s a baby in there.”

“Uncle Phil said that the baby is in your tummy.”

“Yes.”

“How did it get there?”

“He grows from a tiny little peanut until he’s big, strong, and ready to be born.”

“When?”

“In a month or so. Soon.”

He eyed my stomach again. “Are you making fun of me?”

Poor little Toby. Growing up with three older brothers hadn’t been easy.

“I promise you I’m not lying. We have a book about how babies are born. Let me find it, and I’ll show you.”

He sat on my lap and rubbed his palm on my stomach absentmindedly as I showed him the pictures in the children’s book. It was simplified but accurate, with drawings of the growing fetus in an omega’s womb.

Toby inspected the picture of a baby in the third trimester. “But how does he eat?”

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