Page 31

JACKSON

I’m grateful for our friends, grateful that they dropped everything to fly across the world in a crisis, grateful that they spent a weekend helping us move into our new home. But I’m mostly grateful when they leave.

“We’ll be back at seven to pick you up,” Anya says, hovering on the doorstep. “Is that enough time?”

Rosie nods, resting her hand on her belly. “I’m going to nap, but it’ll be fine.”

“Okay, see you later.” Anya presses a quick kiss to her cheek and waves at me over her shoulder before the door closes behind her.

Rosie sighs. “I think I’ll make a start on the kitchen before I go lie down.”

I cradle her shoulders with my hand, gently pulling her long hair off her shoulder and pressing a kiss to the warm skin at the nape of her neck.

“Or…” I trail my hands down her arm. “We could lie down right now,” I whisper against her skin.

I’m rewarded with a breathy laugh as she spins in my arms. “We have to leave in four hours. ”

“Then that gives me three hours and forty-five minutes to have my way with you.”

Rosie lifts her arms to my shoulders, her nails scraping across my scalp.

“I’ll probably fall asleep on you,” she says with a smile as my hands travel down her back, taking her plump ass in both hand. The leggings she’s been wearing to pack have been teasing me all day, and all I want to do is peel them off of her.

“I won’t mind if you fall asleep as long as my tongue’s buried in your pretty cunt as you do.”

Her eyes drop to my mouth as she licks her lips.

“Would you like that, pretty girl?” I run my nose along her jaw, teasing her until she tilts her head, chasing my lips with hers. “Hmm?” The noise rumbles from my chest and I love the way her eyes flutter.

She nods, shooting me a wicked smile. “I’m really tired.”

I capture her lips with mine swallowing her whimper as I cradle her head in my hands. I feel her tongue flick at my lip, and it takes all my strength to pull away from her enough to climb the stairs behind her, her delicious ass in those leggings causing my dick to swell almost painfully.

We cross the threshold of the bedroom, and I take a second to absorb the changes.

Rosie’s green bedding is already on the bed, her clothes hung neatly in the wardrobe and her makeup spread across the dresser.

The past few weeks, the room has felt like a hotel, the drawers empty and the room bare.

Seeing her belongings strewn across the room and mixing with mine, it finally feels like home.

“Where did that come from?” Rosie points to the large mirror Danny helped me fix to the wall whilst the girls were downstairs.

“I bought it,” I say, coming up behind her and resting my head on top of hers.

“God, I look disgusting,” Rosie says mournfully, tugging at her t-shirt.

I shake my head, disbelief coursing through my veins. “There’s not a single part of you that’s disgusting, Rosie. You’re beautiful.”

She shifts in my arms, attempting to face away from the mirror. “I’m huge and sweaty and my boobs are even bigger than they were before.”

I tilt her chin with my knuckle,.“You’re as beautiful as you were the day I first saw you.”

“That’s because I was wearing a couture bridesmaid dress and professional makeup.”

“Not the wedding, pretty girl. The first time.”

She scrunches her brows in confusion.

“At Cassie’s concert in Paris.”

Rosie’s mouth drops open. “I—I didn’t know if you remembered that.”

I chuckle, gently pulling at her lip with my thumb. “You were wearing jeans that were so tight they looked painted on, and your cheeks were flushed from dancing. I kept trying to talk to you, but you kept running away.”

“I was shy,” she whispers.

“All I wanted to do was dance with you, tug that clip out of your hair and peel those jeans off you.” I thread my fingers through her hair, loving the way her head tilts back inching closer to my lips. “The same way I’ve wanted to peel these leggings off you all day.”

I slowly trace my hand down her side, gently tugging at the waistband of the stretchy fabric .

Rosie scoffs gently. “My maternity leggings?”

“Mhmh,” I agree as I gently tug the material down her legs, helping her step out of them.

She gazes up at me with those big blue eyes, the faint rim of her contacts visible as she blinks up at me.

“Arms up,” I say, my cock pulsing in my jeans as she silently complies.

I tug her t-shirt up and over her head, letting it fall to the floor. My hands explore her body, curving over her bump before flicking the clasp on her bra. My hands take its place, tracing my thumb across her nipple and loving the whimper it elicits.

“You don’t know what you do to me.”