“Love you,” I say into his chest.
He moves out of my grasp and I roll onto the pillows confused. Standing by the bed he holds something out.
I frown, sitting up. “There’s no point.”
He keeps trying to hand me the pregnancy test.
“Seriously, I took one this morning.”
“Try again,” he insists.
“I hate to break this to you but our daughter isn’t psychic.”
Kids say weird things all the time. She asked for a pet monster last week.
“I’m not pregnant.”
He stands there, dark eyes studying me. I shrink inside, but I don’t want to talk about it.
“Okay.” He sets the test down. “Then let’s try again.”
He pushes me back, sliding his knee between my legs.
It’s not just the crushing disappointment of not having another baby. It’s breaking the news over and over to Max that it didn’t work out.
He never blames me or makes me feel like it’s my fault. It doesn’t matter. I feel like it’s my fault.
I know I’m not the only person struggling with fertility, but now I understand how much of a nasty bitch it is.
He nips at my lower lip. I refuse. He bites harder and when my lips part his tongue sweeps in. He presses his hardening cock into my lower stomach and my heart ticks up.
“Did you hear something?” I break away.
He tries to claim my lips again.
“I’m serious. Hang on, I think I need to go check on Sailor.”
“She’s going to have to learn how to be independent at some point.”
Max runs his fingers through my hair, sliding me back on the bed. He nudges my legs further apart and a hand snakes into my waistband. My hips shift against him, looking for more.
He pulls back, smirking, and then launches into a harder attack.
“Max,” I complain.
His hips pin me down and I can’t move. Holding my armsabove my head, he kisses my chin and then my nipple through my pajama top.
I’m about to groan in frustration when Sailor’s voice cries from behind the closed door, “Daddy?”
Max leaps off me. He fixes himself, grabbing his reading glasses.
“What happened to having to learn how to be independent?”
“Our daughter needs me.” He throws a scandalized look over his shoulder as he marches to the door. He finds a bleary-eyed Sailor, her hair a mess and her pajamas awry.
“Daddy,” she murmurs as he takes her little hand and leads her back to her room.
My head crashes back into the pillows. Max is a sucker, so I know it’ll be a while.