Page 31 of Risk (Gods #3)

I ’ve been living here with Kaden for a few weeks now, and so far, it’s been going well. We get along really well. We like the same TV shows and movies, so there’s no fighting over the remote. Although I do have a TV in my room, but I like being around him. He’s easy to be with.

What isn’t easy is that I’m at that point in my pregnancy where my hormones are surging—mostly south of the border. I’m horny pretty much all the time, and no amount of time with my vibrator or clit sucker is taking the edge off.

I need to be fucked, but it’s not like I can go and pick up a random guy to sleep with.

Weirdly, the thought of having sex with another man while pregnant with Kaden’s children feels like I’d be cheating on him.

Which is stupid. I know this, but I can’t seem to stop thinking or feeling that way.

And my body is starting to change. When you’re growing not one, but two humans inside of you, things get bigger much sooner, and I’m not sure I’d feel comfortable with a random stranger seeing me naked—and there might not even be a random stranger who would want to have sex with a pregnant woman.

Truthfully, I want Kaden. I’m comfortable with him. He’s the hottest man I’ve ever seen, and I know he knows how to fuck. Incredibly well. So, a lot of time is me trying to pretend that I don’t want to jump his hot body, rip his clothes off, and ride him like my own personal fucktoy.

My days are easier, not because the horniness is gone, but because Kaden’s usually at the gym, so the temptation of him is abated.

Thoughts of sex are definitely reduced because I’m either in class, working on papers at the library—usually with Aaron—or working a shift at the diner.

My boss wasn’t happy when I told him that I was pregnant, just made a huffing noise and told me that being pregnant wasn’t an illness so I’d better not try to skip out on my shifts because he wouldn’t pay me sick pay or maternity pay—the asshole.

I could really do with another job, but I’m not sure how many employers would be willing to hire a pregnant woman.

I’m sitting at the kitchen island, on my laptop, searching online for part-time jobs that I can apply for. Balboa is asleep next to my laptop, purring softly. I hear the elevator ding and then the sound of Kaden’s footfalls as he walks down the hallway toward me.

“Hey.” He smiles, putting a bag down on the counter, and then starts getting out fresh fruit—oranges, half of a honeydew melon, grapes, apples, bananas, and kiwis.

“You making a fruit platter for fifty?” I ask, a teasing smile lifting my lips.

He gives me an unamused look. “Nope. It’s for you. Fruit is good for you and the babies. Each fruit has the different necessary vitamins that the three of you need.”

“That’s a lot of fruit for me to eat.” I laugh. “I know I’m consuming more these days, but even I won’t get through all that.”

His cheeks flush, and I love the look on him because I’ve never seen him embarrassed before.

“Maybe I did get a bit carried away.” He bites his lip.

I feel bad for teasing him, so I reach out my hand and place it on his arm. “I like that you got carried away. Shows how much you care about the babies.”

His eyes lift and hold mine. “I care about you too.”

I feel my heart rate begin to increase. My skin starts to flush. And that throb that’s a permanent resident between my legs rears its head and starts to pulse harder.

Forcing myself to pull my hand and gaze away, I focus back on my laptop.

I hear Kaden clear his throat and see in my peripheral vision as he moves toward the fridge.

“You want anything?” he asks.

“No, I’m good, thanks.”

He gets out one of those ready-made protein shakes that he has in there, uncaps it, and takes a drink.

I continue scrolling through job listings, but it’s slim pickings.

“You doing schoolwork?” he asks me, resting his hip against the counter. “I’ll get out of your hair if you are.”

“No. I’m job hunting.”

His brows draw together. “What happened with your job at the diner?”

“I still have it, but my boss is an asshole and became an even bigger asshole when I told him that I was pregnant.”

“Do I need to go there and have a word with him?”

I laugh to play off his offer because I know he’s not kidding, and a word from Kaden would scare the shit out of my boss. Which actually does sound appealing, but he’s also the type of weasel who would call the cops on Kaden for something stupid, like threatening behavior.

“No, it’s fine. I’m just gonna hang on to it until I can get another job, although I don’t know if anyone would hire a pregnant woman.

Or until I go on maternity leave. But the asshole did say I wouldn’t be getting maternity pay, so I’ll need to look into if I can get any government help while I have a bit of time off to have the twins. ”

“A bit of time?” He’s frowning again, but this time, the grooves are much deeper.

“Yeah, I was thinking maybe a few weeks—a month, max—and then I’ll go back to work and school.”

“Nope.”

It’s my turn to frown. “What do you mean, nope?”

“I mean, nope. You’re not just taking a month off work when the twins are born. School—sure, I get that, with deadlines and exams, but you do school from home, only going in when necessary. But you are not going back to waiting tables only a few weeks after giving birth.”

I push to a stand from the stool I was comfortably sitting on and fold my arms across my chest. It pushes my boobs up, which are now bigger than they used to be, thanks to this pregnancy, and this doesn’t go unnoticed by Kaden as his eyes drop down to them for longer than polite—actually, it’s never polite to stare at a women’s tits—before lifting back to my face.

“You’re being a pushy asshole again,” I tell him. “Just the same as you were that time you told me that I was moving in here.”

He stares at me for a long beat, and I can see in his eyes that thoughts are currently warring in his mind. I’m assuming he’s fighting instinct over what is right. At his core, Kaden is a caveman, but only in the sense that he wants to protect. He’s just really shitty at delivering his message.

He lets out a breath and scrubs a hand over his stubble. The sound of the scrape of his skin over that rough facial hair has my mind heading into the gutter and my thighs pressing together to quell the ache there.

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” he says, contrite.

“You’re forgiven.” I’m not one for holding grudges, so I’m happy to accept his apology and let it go because I can tell he means it, and I need out of this conversation before I do something crazy and tell him I want him to fuck me.

“Let me try again…”

Please don’t. I need to go to my room and get acquainted with my vibrator. Again. For the hundredth time since I moved in here.

“When you get further into the pregnancy, it’s not going to be viable for you to be on your feet, doing shifts at the diner. I see how tired you are already when you come home from work.”

He’s right; I do tire more easily nowadays.

“And there is nothing I can do to help.”

“You don’t need to help.”

“Yes, I do because you’re carrying our children. Half of me is in there.” He gestures to my stomach with a wave of his hand.

Jesus, if those words don’t turn me on something fierce. Christ, what is wrong with me?

I begin shifting on my feet, crossing one leg over the other, crushing my upper thighs together. I can feel my breasts starting to tingle, my nipples tightening.

“There is nothing I can do to help until the twins are born. It all falls on you, and I want to help, so let me help.”

“How can you help?”

“Financially.”

“Nope.”

He growls with frustration—actually fucking growls—and, my God, it does something to me. I grip hold of the counter to stop myself from launching my body at his.

“Why won’t you let me help in the only way I can?” I can hear the impatience and annoyance in his voice.

Well, there is another way you can help me—

Nope. Don’t say that. Don’t you dare say that, Artemis.

“Because…”

“Great reason.”

“I wasn’t finished.” I frown, even though I have no clue what to say. My normally quick-thinking brain is frazzled with sex hormones.

“Please, continue.”

He flicks his wrist at me, which would ordinarily annoy me. But all I can think about is his head between my legs, relieving me of this continual ache.

“I don’t want your money because…” Why don’t I want him to help me financially? “Because…well…because I’m an independent woman.” Yeah, that’s it. That’ll do it for a valid reason, and it’s a good, solid reason.

“That’s a stupid reason.”

Huh? That brings me out of my lust-filled thoughts for a second. “I’m sorry, what?”

He takes a step closer to me, and I get a lungful of his cologne and the scent that is just uniquely him.

“I said it’s a stupid reason. I know you’re independent, but this just feels like you’re being stubborn for the sake of proving a point.”

I jut my chin out, hands finding my hips. “I’m not being stubborn.” Am I?

He moves another step closer.

Oh, dear God, he’s so close. Too close.

The annoyance that’s blazing like a fire in his eyes is turning me on something silly. I fear it’s going to make me do something dumb. Like kiss him.

“This isn’t me trying to give you money like you’re some kind of charity case or whatever it is you’re thinking in that beautiful brain of yours.

This is me trying to make life easier for you because you are the mother of my children, and I feel fucking helpless to do anything at the moment, and I don’t want to see you struggling because you’re too damn stubborn to let me help, to let me be a part of this with you. ”

His chest is heaving like he’s just been running. I think mine is, too, because my heart is galloping off like a racehorse.

He’s so close, and he smells so fucking good that I can’t hold myself responsible for what I do. And what I do is throw myself at him and kiss him.