Page 35 of Psycho

We both wanted to find out that news together, not in front of a stranger where we could process it all in our own time. I also felt like I couldn’t open it until I completely embraced the fact that in less than twenty weeks, I’d be a mom.

And Maddox would be a dad.

God, his steadiness in the entire thing was mind blowing. How could a man be so sure about something so foreign to him? I couldn’t wrap my head around it.

But in a way, I didn’t have to, because it wasn’t just words, he used to assure me he was in it for the long haul. His actions covered any doubt I had left. Every single day, the man woke up and took care of me. Every single day, the man saw to my every need. Every single day, the man showed me his devotion without a single fault.

And I was fucking shaken by it.

And loving it.

I really fucking loved it. And I was falling in love with Maddox too, as wild as that was on its own. I had never been in lovebefore, in my early twenties, I rebelled against what my parents had always imposed on me in an attempt to finally have control over my own destiny. Which meant I slept around, taking advantage of commitment free sex with men who turned me on, and I never regretted that.

But I never loved.

I never cared about the men I used for fun. The same way they never cared about me.

Subsequently, meeting Maddox, even in a messed-up situation like we did, felt so weird to begin with. Now, however, we were in a rhythm and a sense of normalcy day in and day out, and I never wanted to lose it.

Which was why I was standing in my kitchen, watching some YouTube episode of Martha Stewart’s, pausing it every five seconds to copy whatever she was doing, in an attempt to make Maddox dinner.

The man cooked for me every day, and he was so good at it. I wanted to repay him for his time and efforts, even if I didn’t have a clue what I was doing. If I was going to be a mom, I needed to figure it out.

Martha’s voice guided me as I flipped the pork chop over in the pan, sprinkling a little salt and pepper onto it as it seared, before moving over to the next pan, where some rice risotto was trying to burn itself into a hockey puck.

But not on my watch.

Not this time.

I was going to make everything perfect, simply because Maddox deserved it.

He would be coming over any minute now, after some work session with Dane over at his apartment, which meant I was running out of time. I turned the burners off, confident that everything was ready and covered the pans before ripping the apron off and running into my bedroom to get dressed. I didn’ttrust myself to get dressed before cooking his dinner, because that was a surefire way to ruin my outfit before he saw it.

And the outfit I had planned deserved to be seen before it was ripped off.

I pulled on the champagne sweater dress and buttoned it up, stopping right below my breasts so they were seductively on display. It stopped right above my knee, and I pulled up the white thigh-high stockings that had little lace ruffles on the tops to match the lace bralette I wore under it, peaking out around the deep cleavage showing.

Although far from sexy, the outfit worked perfectly since I was pregnant and we were staying in the apartment’s warmth and safety.

It was girly, sweet, but also sexy, and I couldn’t wait to see Maddox when he came in.

“Storm.” His deep voice called out and my body tingled as I rubbed my perfume into my neck and then put my necklace on.

“Coming.” I sang seductively before scurrying out so he wouldn’t come to find me in the bedroom. If he found me before I got out of the bedroom, we’d never make it back to the kitchen, thanks to the man’s insatiable appetite for me.

Well, to be fair, it was usually me that initiated sex, but that was always after he got me off with his mouth or hands first. Maddox Renner was obsessed with making me orgasm, even if there was no plan or time for him to find pleasure.

And it was mind-boggling.

But tonight was all about him.

“Hi,” I breathed as I cleared the hallway and found him lifting lids off of the pans on the stove. He froze with one raised halfway up when he saw me. I could feel his eyes roaming down my body, from the deep view of my breasts to the couple of inches of skin showing above my thigh highs and back up.

“Damn.” He growled, dropping the lid, which made a loud clanging as he walked around the massive island in the kitchen toward me. “Dinner smells delicious,” He wrapped his hands around my waist and pulled me flush to him, “But you smell better, baby.”

I smiled up at him as he lowered his lips to my neck and inhaled and then purred for me when I dragged my nails up the back of his freshly showered scalp.

He wore a pair of blue jeans and a flannel, unbuttoned with nothing on under it, and I could feel his body harden against my stomach as he kissed me.

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