Page 30 of Tied up in Knots (Gummy Bear Orgy #4)

You were always my happy place

Breakfast for dinner is the best kind of dinner.

Warren watches me warily as I cut a slice out of my weird, layered meal.

The colorful skittle and spam omelet set right on top of two fluffy chocolate chip pancakes smothered in butter and maple syrup.

He made himself an omelet and pancakes as well, but he didn’t add the skittles to his and eats them like a boring normal person, separately.

I’m halfway through my delicious meal when I feel a swift kick to my gut and burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Warren asks, a fork hovering halfway to his mouth.

“The baby just kicked.”

“Maybe he doesn’t like the spam and skittles?”

I’m pretty sure the spam and skittles were completely the baby’s idea so that can’t be right. The baby kicks again and I set down my fork to hold my hand to the side of my stomach.

“Here, come feel.”

Warren instantly stands from the stool next to me and rounds to stand behind me, his left arm wrapping around my back to place a large warm hand on the place I indicate.

With his body behind me I feel completely surrounded by his presence.

He doesn’t need to, but he presses close to my back, allowing me to lean against him for support, his right arm circling around my other side as well.

Both hands are now flat and cradling my stomach and our son within.

I rest my head against his shoulder and his chin rests on mine, his cheek pressing to my cheek as he waits to feel another kick. It comes quickly, this time in three rapid strikes right against his hand. Warren chuckles deep and delighted against my neck.

“That’s a strong kick there, Thumper. Like a rabbit thumping at the ground.”

I turn my head to try and look at him, he’s still looking down to my stomach reverently and I watch him. There’s something in his eyes I’ve never seen before.

“What’s with you and that movie?”

“What do you mean?” His eyes flick to me but only linger for a moment before returning to his hands and the kicking.

“You call me Bambi and our unborn son Thumper. Does that make you Flower?”

He looks back at me and with the most serious face he says. “You can call me Flower if you want to.”

My head rolls as I laugh out loud at his utter ridiculousness. “Now you’re quoting the movie. That’s not going to drive me crazy or anything.”

“If you can’t say something nice, don’t say nothing at all.”

I only laugh harder, my stomach clenching, causing it to shake in Warren’s hands. He doesn’t let go, if anything he holds on tighter, locking me in the circle of his arms. It feels so right, so perfect. It’s warm and comfortable. A place I could live. A place I could call home.

For a moment I give into the feeling, letting it wash over me and embrace me in its possibility. It’s everything I’ve always wanted, and it’s right here within my grasp. All I have to do is accept it.

“It’s the last time I remember being happy with my parents,” he says quietly.

“What?”

“Watching Bambi . I was sitting on the couch eating popcorn and watching the movie with my mom, I think I was six. This was before my dad started drinking, before he became violent. We were a happy normal family then. It was the last time I felt like that, watching that movie with them. I guess it kind of stuck in my mind as the thing that made us happy.” He breathes out a humorless chuckle and I want to reverse our position and wrap my arms around him, reassure him that’s all in the past, but he keeps talking and I remain still.

“When we first met you reminded me of Bambi, with your large doe eyes and innocence. With your adorable freckles and optimism. Just like Bambi, always seeing the good in the world. I call you Bambi because of that and because you always make me feel as happy as I did on that day when I was six. You were always my happy place. Made me feel like I belonged, no matter what.”

My eyes are closed but I still feel the well of water rising behind them.

Crying is my default now. Something’s cute, cry.

Something’s happy, cry. Someone’s polite, cry.

Something tastes good, cry. I pull in slow deep breaths to help control the crying, relishing in Warren’s embrace tightening around me, remaining still so he can hold me.

Let him take his comfort from me however he needs.

I don’t see him move, only feel it when his lips press soft and lovingly against my neck.

I should probably tell him no or push him away.

That would be the smart thing to do. He hasn’t been home long enough for me to figure out if his reasons for being here are honest or not.

Though after his revelation it’s hard to deny his feelings, his motives, as anything other than truthful.

I can’t pull away. I don’t want to pull away, and my body is certainly not letting me pull away.

My hormones are in overdrive and just that light touch sends ripples of pleasure through my body.

I stifle a moan, biting the inside of my cheek.

It doesn’t stop the prickle running across my skin that makes my nipples harden and my pussy clench.

This is ridiculous. It was only one small kiss. Oh, make that two.

Warren presses another kiss to my neck and my breath saws in and out of my lungs.

God, I have been needing to be touched like this for so long.

Pregnancy has made me massively horny, which doesn’t make sense since I’m already pregnant.

You’d think my body would realize it doesn’t need to have sex anymore and stop pumping out the horny hormone.

But no, ever since becoming pregnant I’ve only wanted sex more. Stupid.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Warren mutters against my skin. “I know you don’t fully trust me again yet, but I was wondering,” He pauses and rubs the tip of his nose along my skin. “If I could stay with you.”

Yes, yes, fucking yes. Stay, get naked and keep touching me. Keep saying beautiful things to me. Keep making me fall in love with you. Is what I want to say, so damn much. Instead, I somehow managed to retain some of my stubbornness.

“Why? Is there something wrong with your boat?” It’s a weak attempt to hold on to my resolve that is slowly diminishing day by day.

“No, there’s nothing wrong with my boat,” he chuckles, and I can feel the heat of his breath on my pulse point.

“Mainly I want to keep an eye on you. I don’t like the idea of you being here alone.

You could trip and fall, hurt yourself trying to reach a book on a high shelf which could fall over and crush you.

Every time I think about it, it makes me anxious.

But also, because I want to be with you.

I want to experience this with you, help you.

Be here for you. Show you there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. ”

He pauses and takes in a deep breath, his fingers lifting my chin to face him, cupping my cheek in his palm. My eyes open and I’m staring back into his milk chocolate gaze, completely at his mercy.

“Because I love you, Bambi.”

My heart lodges in my throat, pounding like a bass drum.

Those three little words perched on the tip of my tongue, wanting desperately to be said back to him.

I’ve said them so many times in my head that saying them out loud should be simple, easy.

But I’m afraid. Afraid that once it’s out there, once I say it, he could reject me.

Crush every tiny piece of my heart, all of which already belongs to him.

An expression of understanding crosses through his gaze, and Warren nods while softly smiling.

“You say it when you’re ready. There’s no rush, I’m not going anywhere.”

Leaning in he presses his lips to mine, and I don’t object.

The kiss is filled with all the emotions I can’t say out loud, and the ones he can.

He lingers on my lips letting me fall deeper into his seduction.

His tongue slips past my lips to taste me, gentle and smooth, withdrawing almost as quickly as he entered. I almost whimper when he pulls away.

“Okay, you can stay. You convinced me.”

His smile is broad and toothy. “Well, if I knew all I needed to do was kiss you I would have started with that.”

“Oh, well next time you’ll know.”

Slowly he disentangles himself from around me. It’s obvious neither of us wants to, but we also can’t stay like this all night. Warren presses a kiss to my temple before returning to his stool and our long-forgotten food.

“Finish your breakfast, then I’ll rub your feet before bed.”

“Bed? It’s only seven o’clock.”

“Ok fine then, I’ll rub your feet while we watch a movie.”

“Or read a book.”

He chuckles again. “That too. Though it would be rather hard for me to turn the pages with my hands occupied rubbing your feet.”

“Fine, a movie then,” I sigh with mock irritation. “But only if we have popcorn and watch Bambi .” Warren looks at me surprised, but hopeful. I shrug, smiling. “I haven’t watched it in a long time. It’s as good as any other movie.”

~

I probably shouldn’t have suggested watching Bambi , a movie that even if I weren’t pregnant would make me weep like a baby, because watching it while pregnant is like participating in the Olympics of ugly crying.

A mother protecting her young? Could it hit any closer to home?

Warren is a good sport through it all though. Getting me a box of tissues and cuddling me close to him, pressing reassuring kisses to my tear-stained cheek. He really is being the sweetest.

But even after all that crying and emotional whirlwind, it still can’t smother my pregnancy libido the moment I walk out of the bathroom ready for bed to find Warren stripping down to his underwear in my bedroom.

“What are you doing?”