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I eased down the front of his gym shorts, watching his breath hitch as I freed his dick. He was already hard and leaking.

“You don’t have to—” he started.

“Shut up,” I murmured, pressing a kiss just below his navel. “Let me take care of you for once.”

I kissed the tip before guiding his mushroom head between my lips. Slow, unhurried, I worked my mouth down the shaft until I couldn’t take any more. I gripped the rest with my hand. He leaned back on his elbows, chest rising and falling, eyes locked on mine like I was anchoring him to Earth.

Up and down, I sucked him in and out of my mouth. I could feel the tension bleeding out of him second by second.

His fingers threaded into my short hair, directing the pace. “So fucking good,” he groaned as I sped up. His hips started moving. He was close. I could taste the salty beginning of the end.

I gagged slightly when he went deep. Eyes watering. Spit slipping out the sides of my mouth.

“Make me cum,” he practically begged.

My pussy throbbed, but this wasn’t about me. I tightened my lips, and he let out a long, shaking breath. His body went tight. I sucked out everything he gave me.

“Damn,” he whispered.

I climbed up beside him, resting my head on his chest, belly pressing into his side. His arm wrapped around me automatically.

We stayed like that for a long moment, just breathing.

“I’m scared too,” I admitted. “About court. About giving birth. About everything. But we’ve made it this far, Sam. We’ve survived a crazy-ass ex, a jail stint, a viral video, and two sets of skeptical-ass parents.”

He chuckled.

“We’ll survive the rest too,” I whispered. “You hear me?”

He kissed the top of my head. “I hear you.”

Chapter 35- Mark

I wasn’t worried when I walked into the courtroom.

Nervous? Sure. But worried? No.

Zane had always been dramatic. I figured this hearing would be just another performance. In front of the judge she’d act wounded, scared even. Her lawyers would make noise about my temper, my past, the fight with her boyfriend. And I’d take the heat. I could handle heat. I was a goddamn lawyer.

But I wasn’t prepared for the way she looked when I walked in.

Calm. Poised. Happy. Like she’d already won.

She sat at her table, stomach round, chin up. That smug bastard Sam sat behind her. I recognized her lawyer. She was one of the best. I wasn’t paying for him when she came back. I’d actually make her get a job to do it and pay for her bastard herself. She’d learn to appreciate what I gave her.

I took my seat across the aisle, heart kicking once, then again. I nodded at the judge and slid my hands across the table like I owned it.

I hadn’t bothered hiring another divorce attorney after I fired the first one who wanted me to just sign my wife away. This was just posturing. A show.

The judge called things to order, and her lawyer stood first. She started talking about “escalation of conflict,” “harassment,” “unnecessary delays in signing final papers,” “financial abuse.” Then she mentioned the restraining order.

I laughed. Loud enough for the judge to glance at me.

“My apologies, Your Honor,” I said, straightening my tie. “But this narrative that I’m some kind of threat is absurd. The only reason this isn’t finalized is because we haven’t sat down to divide assets.”

“She doesn’t want anything from you,” her lawyer said. “She just wants out. You’ve delayed the proceedings twice now—once by skipping mediation, and once by changing counsel at the last minute.”

“I was within my legal rights to do so.”