Page 9 of Silver Spoon Falls, Vol. I

JULES

Five Years Later

"Caveman," I moan, writhing against the shower wall as my orgasm washes through me, setting off a series of detonations in my belly. Lava flows through my veins, unmaking me from the inside out as Dillon growls my name and yanks me down on him, following me over the edge.

I slump against his broad chest, completely spent.

"Fuck, little firecracker," he pants, holding me tight. "I thought I was cleaning you up."

"You started it."

"Those perfect tits started it. They were taunting me."

I laugh quietly. He always says that. We can't ever shower together without it ending in us having sex because he swears my boobs taunt him, or my butt, or some other part of my body.

After five years, he's still completely ridiculous.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't love it though.

My husband is more in love with me now than ever, and I feel the same way about him.

Until my stomach turns unexpectedly.

"Put me down!" I cry.

He must hear the panic in my voice because he doesn't argue with me for once. He immediately lifts me off him, setting me on my feet in the middle of the shower. I quickly stumble out, grab a towel from the hook, and make a beeline for the toilet.

"Jules? What the fuck?"

I'm too busy dry heaving to answer him.

A few seconds later, he crouches behind me, wrapping my towel around me. "Poor little firecracker," he says. "Did you get food poisoning? Should I call an ambulance? What can I do?"

What can he do? Is he kidding me right now?

"This is all your fault," I growl at him, and then dry heave again before my stomach finally settles. I sink to my butt on the floor, gasping for breath and glaring at my oblivious husband. This isn't food poisoning. It's his super swimmers.

"My fault?" His brows furrow and then his face pales. "You mean…?"

"You got me pregnant again, Dillon."

"No," he growls, shaking his head. "Fuck no. We agreed I couldn't go through that again."

Even though I feel terrible, I bite my lip to keep from laughing because he looks like he might throw up now. He did not handle my first pregnancy well. When we found out I was having triplets, I thought he was going to have a heart attack. He was beside himself the whole pregnancy.

It drove me crazy and made me love him even more.

We have three beautiful little girls now… and he's even bossier as a result. But no one loves us like he does. Our girls idolize their daddy, and he's wrapped around their little fingers.

"You should have thought of that before you knocked me up then," I murmur. "It's too late now." I smack him on the shoulder. "Help me up."

He scoops me up in his arms, pressing his lips to my temple. "Fuck. I can't believe you're pregnant."

"Are you happy?" I ask, worried he might really be upset about it.

"With you? Always, little firecracker," he promises, carrying me toward the bedroom. And then he frowns. "Unless you give me three more girls. Then I'm going to be pissed."

"It won't be three more girls," I say, laughing.

God, please don't let it be three more girls. He really will have a heart attack.

"I love you," he whispers, depositing me in the bed.

"I love you, too, caveman."