Page 21 of Cream
Did I?
8
MORTON
I hadn’t been stupid enough to employ someone I’d found intensely attractive as my personal assistant. Jamie had shown in the interview process that he was clever, quick, qualified, and likable. He didn’t fulfill the conventional beauty standards today’s omegas aspired to. He was too pale, his features a tad irregular, his limbs too thin… I’d thought I’d feel safe around him.
It had taken only a few weeks. I’d gotten to know him and had begun dreaming about how his eyelids drooped when he was tired. Today, I found his pale complexion a flawless canvas for the lovely blush on his cheeks and the freckles on his nose. His uneven lips were sexy as hell when he smirked knowingly, teasing me. His slight body would fit perfectly into my lap, his elegant hands on my neck… and his growing stomach under my palm.
I’d gotten my Jamie pregnant. The knowledge was way more exhilarating and arousing than it should have been.
My dick remained half hard, my body buzzing with lust. I’d knocked this boy up, filled his womb to the brim, and now he’d be mine.
Jamie slept soundly, the little spoon in my lap, as I held my hand over his abdomen. I’d only taken my hand away when I used an app to order breakfast delivery to the front coupé. Then I put my phone on the nightstand and petted him again. When he stirred, I kissed his hair.
“Good morning, Jamie.”
“Mr. Hartley?” He sounded half asleep still.
“Mm-hmm.”
Would he freak out on me now?
But he rolled in my arms and snuggled into my chest without a word. I hugged him to me.
“How do you feel?”
“Good.” He pressed a kiss to my breastbone.Thank you, Universe!“I’m hungry.”
“I ordered us breakfast. It’s in the front coupé.”
“Thank you,” he murmured, nuzzling the base of my throat.
I held his nape with one hand and tilted his chin up with the other. He blinked at me blearily.
“Jamie, I…”I love you. Please, keep our baby. Marry me. Stay with me for the rest of my life.
My sweetheart smiled. “Areyouokay?”
“Yeah. Let’s eat.”
After he’d taken a quick shower, he joined me in the front, dressed in a white T-shirt and silk pajama pants. I wondered if he knew how provocative his tits looked under the flimsy cotton. I wanted to play with them again. But food first. I uncovered the dishes on the cart and poured him a cup of coffee.
“Can I still drink coffee?” he asked, frowning.
My heart skipped a beat when he so casually alluded to his sudden pregnancy. Did that mean he wanted to keep the baby?
“Sure. Two small cups a day are fine.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
He accepted the cup and grabbed a croissant. He took a bite, chewed, swallowed, and drank some coffee. Then he offered me a careful smile. “I think we should talk, Mr. Hartley.”
“Jamie, please call me Morton.”
He grinned at that. “Morton. I think we should talk.”
“Do we have to?”
