Page 85

Story: Princes of Ash

Kind of.

“It’s something poisonous, isn’t it?” she asks, but even though she narrows her eyes, there’s something playful about it. “Like belladonna or foxglove.”

I roll my eyes. “Like Lex would let me get away with that.”

She’s been pestering me about those seeds for days now. God knows why she doesn’t just plant them, and wait and see.

When she finally pushes her plate back, she slumps into her seat with a long sigh. “That was amazing,” she says, sticking out her chest and messing with something on her back.

I take a surreptitious glance around us. “Look, I know you were raised in the equivalent of an apocalyptic world, with no social graces or manners, but what the fuck are you doing?”

“This bra is killing me,” she grunts, shifting uncomfortably.

“You’re awfully hyperbolic today.”

She grimaces, squirming around. “The elastic is gouging into my skin.”

I signal to the waitress that we’re ready for the check, muttering under my breath, “Jesus, just buy a bigger one.”

“What did you say?”

When I turn to her, she’s frowning. “Red, it’s obvious your tits are growing. Just like how I need a bigger suit to contain my manliness, you may need to buy a bigger bra to contain,” I look at her and wave my hand around, “all that.”

“Allthat?” Her jaw drops. “Are you saying I’m fat? Because I’m wearing the exact same size clothes as always.”

Groaning, I drag a palm down my face. “Red, don’t make me do it.”

Her head tilts quizzically. “Do what?”

“You asked for it.” I stand and drag her to her feet. Lifting her shirt, I point out how she’s secured the button of her skirt with one of Lex’s hairbands to extend the space. “Stop kidding yourself. You’re growing.”

She bats my hand away, but I don’t miss the way her eyes water. “I’m not ready to get fat. I just started the second trimester!”

“Don’t you dare start crying,” I growl, panicking. “You’re not fat. You just…”

She grabs her boobs, wincing as they squeeze together. “And what the hell is this? They hurt all day. My nipples have a mind of their own and…” She reaches under her shirt, fumbles with the clasp, and exhales, eyes rolling back. “That feels so much better. I’ll just stop wearing it.”

“Like hell you will!” Realizing we’re drawing attention to ourselves, I pull out my wallet and throw some bills on the table. Her tits are spectacles enough when they’re contained. The thought of her walking around with them bouncing all over the place? If I think my brothers are whipped now, the Princess going around braless will make their minds melt. “Come on,” I insist, spinning her.

“Where are we going?” she asks as I grab her arm and lead her to the door.

I know women. I know how to make them swoon. I know how to make them feel better. To help them push aside those little insecurities like crow’s feet, or sun spots, or whatever it is I’m not supposed to notice.

Right now, there’s only one thing that will make Verity feel better.

“Shopping.”

* * *

It’s notuntil later that I realize how stupid I’ve been.

I took her to the lingerie store and pressed the credit card in her hand, but didn’t go inside with her. I’ve shown Herculean magnitudes of willpower the last few months, but lingerie shopping is a level of torture I’m not prepared to suffer through. She shopped. I picked up my tux. When we met at the car, she seemed to have calmed down.

But now I can’t stop wondering what she bought. Lace? Satin? Cotton? My fingers twitch as I busy myself getting ready for bed, listening to the sounds of her doing the same through the bathroom door. Like my balls weren’t in enough pain, now I have that on my mind. And even if I asked—fuck, demanded it—there’s zero chance of me getting some. She’s made that perfectly clear.

Instead of wondering how her tits would look squeezed between my hands, or with my face buried in between, I comb my hair back with my fingers. Then check my cuticles. Then brush my fingers over my jaw, wondering if there’s stubble. It’d be a lie to say I don’t put a lot of effort into my looks, but usually, it’s just an enhancement of what I know to be true. I’m a goddamn specimen.

So why isn’t she on my dick yet?

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