Page 97 of Babies for the Christmas Grump

“Stay right there,” I growl, smacking her ass once more so she arches her back for me, cheeks red and glistening. “I want to see you like this when I finish.”

Her breath is ragged, her curls wild against her flushed face, her body sprawled and wrecked. Mine.

The sight unravels me. Heat builds fast and brutal, and with one last rough stroke, I explode. Hot, thick ropes of come striping across her ass, her lower back, dripping over the handprints I’ve left on her skin.

“Fuck, Sunny…” I groan, still pumping myself through it, watching every drop mark her.

She gasps, her fingers digging into the sheets. She can feel the heat of me even without my cock inside her.

When I finally collapse beside her, I drag her close, kissing her damp temple. My hand rests over her hip, possessive even now.

“Look at you. Messy, perfect, and mine.”

She tilts her head, giving me the smallest, wickedest grin. “Yours.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Sunny

December 20th

I wakeup to the feel of warm sheets and the smell of him. Cedar, leather, and something else I can’t quite place. The scent of a good mystery novel I want to dive into.

But then I remember: I can’t avoid the mystery anymore. There’s a plot twist I’ve been putting off, and it’s got my name written all over it.

I roll over, half-expecting Ryder to be still sleeping soundly next to me, but his side of the bed is empty. I hear the soft thrum of the shower running, and a part of me feels grateful for the moment of peace before it all comes crashing in.

I’m pregnant.

I’m pregnant.

I blink at the ceiling, trying to get my brain to catch up. The doctor’s words keep running through my brain, as do the two little blobs on the screen. But I don’t think I’ve really processed it yet.

Not with everything else going on.

And now I’m about to tell the man I’ve barely known for a few weeks that we’re about to become parents.

Ugh, how the hell is this going to go?

I drag my fingers through my hair, sitting up on the edge of the bed. The cold air hits me like a slap, and my stomach drops. It’s now or never.

Ryder’s still in the shower, and I’m sitting here trying to convince myself that I’m a grownup who can handle this.

Ha. Yeah, right.

I grab the robe off the bedpost, wrap it around myself, and take a deep breath. The reality of it all hits me harder than I expect, and I suddenly wish I could crawl under the covers and pretend it’s not happening.

But I’m not going to do that. I’m going to take charge. I’m going to tell Ryder. Now.

But of course, the universe decides it’s not quite ready for me to have a serious conversation. His phone is shrilly ringing.

“Hello?” I hear Ryder answering the call as he exits the bathroom. “Yes, that’s me.”

Oof, he looks serious. What the hell is going on now?

“Yes, I’m aware of the situation,” he snaps to the muffled voice on the other end of the call. “And actually, I…”

The conversation continues from the other end, and I can’t make out everything, but it’s clear it’s not going well.