Broken (Surrender Book 1)

FULL CIRCLE. CONNER AND I sat down for lunch at the country club where we first met. Typically, country clubs were not my scene, as my parents were members of a similar one, but Conner swore by their veggie burgers. I was twenty-seven weeks into my pregnancy, and the smell, texture, and taste of meat made me nauseous.

‘Good, right?’ Conner smiled easily before taking a swallow of his mineral water.

‘The best. Thank you,’ I beamed, before finishing my fries. ‘You are the real MVP for recommending this place.’

Our waiter approached our table, and Conner settled the check. ‘I need to go to the ladies’ room before we head out,’ I said, dabbing the corners of my mouth with my cloth napkin. ‘Why don’t you get the car from valet and I’ll meet you out front.’

‘Sounds good,’ he said, as he stood and pulled my chair out for me. After planting a gentle kiss to my forehead, we headed in separate directions.

∞∞∞

I EXITED THE RESTROOM and came to a standstill at the sight of Martina Brathwaite. Mrs. Brathwaite was dressed in tennis garb, sporting a small white pleated tennis shirt and a white polo. Her long dark hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail. When she noticed me, her piercing blue eyes narrowed. Her lips thinned into as much of a frown as her Botox would allow. As I approached her, my smile became forced as she eyed me with a lethal cold stare that only she and her son could pull off.

‘Hello, Mrs. Brathwaite, ma’am.’

‘Novalee,’ she curtly said, her inspective stare eyeing my orange Jimmy Choo heels and my periwinkle sheath dress that hugged my curves and accentuated my pregnant belly.

‘What a pleasant surprise.’ Okay, maybe I lied about the pleasant part, but manners were instilled in me by my parents. I had a feeling, however, that Mrs. Brathwaite was about to test my southern hospitality.

‘Indeed, it is. I didn’t know you were a member here.’ There was skepticism in her tone, and a smirk played across her lips. 

‘Actually, I’m not. Not really my scene.’ I nonchalantly shrugged a shoulder and ran my hand through my curls, which were on point today, by the way. Pregnancy hormones were doing wonders for my hair. ‘I’m here with Conner,’ I said and smiled sweetly.

‘Having lunch with your ex? Hmm. That break up must have been devasting for you.’ She feigned compassion. ‘What happened, Novalee? Did the real baby daddy come forward?’

Oh no this bitch didn’t. I smiled easily and turned on my nice-nasty. ‘Oh, okay. We’re really doing this, huh?’ My voice was sweet like honey, and I chuckled as though I was amused and unfazed. I refused to let her ruffle my feathers and get an emotional rise out of me, but I also refused to be a pushover. ‘You’re proudly wearing your bitchy today. Good for you.’ I mockingly clapped twice, to which her nostrils flared. ‘I’m not going to dignify you with a response to your ignorant question. And not that it’s any of your business, since…you know, you and Conner are barely on speaking terms,’ I pouted and feigned sympathy. ‘But Conner and I are good. Never better. Now, if you’d excuse me. I’m so over this conversation.’ I give her a wink before turning away, only to be stopped by her sudden grip around my arm.

‘You’re not special. My son will see you for the gold-digging piece of trash that you are,’ she hissed.

I yanked my arm out of her hand. ‘Let’s get some things straight. One. Don’t you ever put your hands on me,’ I warned as I invaded her personal space by stepping closer. I was red hot with anger. Her hand around my arm triggered something in me that up until this moment, only Keisha was able to elicit.  ‘Two. Please don’t mistake me for someone who gives a damn about you not liking me. Trust me. I’m not losing any sleep.’  

Mrs. Brathwaite’s olive skin turned a molten red as she glared at me. ‘He’s my son. Mine,’ she seethed in a somewhat hushed tone. ‘You, like all those other sluts, think you can just spread your legs take him away from me.’

I was getting weird Jocasta complex vibes here. Creepy. ‘Get a grip. Seriously. No one is trying to take your son away from you. You’re doing that all by yourself.’ Luckily, there were no bystanders around who were privy to our heated exchange. Many were too busy looking down at their phones to notice our interaction. Which was for the best, because I had no doubt that a side would be picked, and I would be seen as the aggressor. I was the outsider.  

Unflattering images of me already had people talking. A video of my fight outside of the Chicago restaurant with Conner had circulated. The unappealing video showed me cursing and flipping off paparazzi as they flashed their cameras in my face. There was also a cringe-worthy photo from that same night of me in my drunken state, spreading my legs haphazardly as I got into the car. Zoomed in pictures of my bare lady bits were on full display for everyone to see. And let’s not forget about the infamous kissing photo with Amy. Although all the aforementioned pictures and videos were scrubbed from the internet within twenty-four hours of them being uploaded, the damage to my reputation was done. Ice queen or not, Mrs. Brathwaite was practically royalty in this town. The last thing I needed was a photo of me shouting in the face of the Billionaire heiress, Martina Brathwaite. ‘Stop focusing on me and learn how to be a fucking mother to your son.’ The words tumbled out of my mouth with no regret.

Before I had time to register it, Mrs. Brathwaite’s open palm slapped me hard across my face. On autopilot and not even a split second later, I swung my open palm toward her face and struck her with enough force that made her head snap to the side. Conner picked that exact moment to appear in the corridor. A bright flash in my peripheral vision alerted me to the unfortunate fact that Scandalous Image #4 had just been captured.

‘What the fuck is going on here?’ Conner stalked towards us.

I faced Conner as Mrs. Brathwaite’s back was to him. At the sound of his voice, she smirked at me before turning to face Conner. As expected, and on cue, she began to cry as she cradled her cheek with both hands. I squeezed my eyes shut and exhaled deeply before schooling my features. He just watched me bitch-slapped his mother. And now there is a photo of me bitch-slapping his mother.

‘Conner,’ Mrs. Brathwaite whimpered as she stepped to him. ‘She slapped me! You saw her! She’s classless and ghetto!’ Mrs. Brathwaite had that whole damsel in distress act down pat.

‘Ma’am, we’re going to have to ask you to leave.’  A middle-aged man with a management tag on, dressed in a blue blazer and white polo, had approached us and directed his comment to me.

‘Fuck off,’ Conner barked at him. ‘Are you alright?’ he asked me tenderly, searching my eyes with concerned etched on his face.

I smiled faintly and nodded.

‘I’ll handle this, Tom.’ Conner clasped my jaw and turned my head sideways to inspect the redness that I was sure was imprinted on my fair skin. The murderous scowl on Conner’s face that followed was even more lethal than his mother’s. The 2.0 version.

‘Thank you, Mr. Brathwaite, sir. I didn’t know she was with you. Perhaps you could take this conversation somewhere more private? I’d really appreciate it, sir.’ Tom gestured to a nearby door.

Conner gave a curt nod before taking Mrs. Brathwaite by the arm and forcefully leading her to the gestured door. He none to gently jostled her inside. I followed closely behind. We were in what appeared to be Tom’s office. He gently closed the door behind us.

‘Cut the shit, Martina.’ Disgust was evident in Conner’s tone, and by the way he looked at her.

Mrs. Brathwaite immediately went from a distraught victim to an enraged ice queen in seconds flat. ‘Don’t be stupid, Conner. She’s only using you for your billions. Who’s to say they’re even yours.’ She gestured to my belly.

I bit the inside of my cheek until it hurt to keep from calling her every name but a child of God. ‘You fucking bitch,’ Conner seethed at her. ‘Stay the fuck away from my family.’ I grab Conner’s hand, partly to offer support and partly to calm his increasing rage.

‘I’m your family. Not her.’ She jammed her manicured finger into his chest. ‘I taught you better than this.’

His eyes were cold and lethal as he looked down at the woman who gave birth to him as if she were dog shit. ‘You taught me a lot of things, Mother, for which none of those things you should be proud of.’

Her eyes cut to me guiltily. I looked from mother to son. Her icy blue eyes narrowed and locked in on his cold green ones. They were carbon copies of one another. Their physical resemblance to their sheer viciousness was stifling in the small office. Things were left unsaid as they glared at each other. Tension, rage, and dysfunction suffocated me, and I barely breathed as I watched the horrific scene unfold.

‘You still blame me for Colton,’ Mrs. Brathwaite finally said as real tears trailed down her face.

I gently nudged him. ‘Conner, let’s go, baby,’ I quietly said. His eyes didn’t waver from hers, and though he didn’t acknowledge me, his hand firmly held mine. I felt invisible as they both tuned me out, which was probably for the best. I suddenly felt like I was an intruder who shouldn’t have been present for this tragic moment between mother and son.

‘I lost two sons the day Colton died,’ she croaked, barely above a whisper. She reached out to touch Conner’s cheek, resulting in him jerking his head away from her. She attempted another connection by placing her open palm on his chest, which in turn, Conner instinctively took a step back and squeezed my hand to the point of pain.  I audibly winced as my knuckles cracked, which seemed to snap them both back into the reality that I was present. Conner immediately loosened his grip on my hand. Mrs. Brathwaite looked at me, her face pale, her eyes pleading.

‘Conner, let’s go.’ I moved to stand in front of him. I had a strong desire to shield his body from his mother. I felt wetness on my cheeks. ‘Conner,’ I repeated.

Conner looked down at me and nodded. His eyes were as bottomless as the ocean, harboring so much pain. I had to look away before I broke down in tears while beating the shit out of Mrs. Brathwaite, pregnant and all.

‘Conner,’ Mrs. Brathwaite said on a sob. I wanted to scratch her eyes out for the damage she did to her son. For being responsible for the brokenness in his life.

Conner looked beyond me at his mother and spoke with a somber finality. ‘I don’t ever want to see you again.’ Conner’s eyes were dead, and his face was grim. I looked back at a sobbing pitiful woman. Her shoulders shook as she wrapped her arms around herself. Conner and I laced our fingers together and walked away, not bothering to close the door behind us.

∞∞∞

I LEANED BACK AGAINST Conner’s chest as we sat horizontally across the sofa. His long legs were entwined with mine. One of his hands rested on my belly while the other leisurely threaded through my hair. There were no words exchanged during the car ride home, and now we watched television absentmindedly. The sounds of The Office sitcom faded into the background, and we both seemed to be in deep thought and not concentrating on the funny antics of Michael Scott. I reached my arm back and scraped my nails along the short silky hairs on the nape of Conner’s neck. He planted a kiss to my shoulder blade.

‘We need to talk,’ he said gravely.

I turned my head to look up at him. I nodded before I responded. ‘Okay.’

The buzzing of Conner’s phone sliced through the tension in the air like a yielding knife. The phone screen displayed his publicist’s name. Calls from his publicist at this late of an hour were never a good sign. ‘I need to take this.’

I attempted to get up from the couch, but Conner tightened his arm around me. I snuggled back comfortably against his chest.

‘Conner,’ he answered, his voice clipped. There was a pause. ‘It’s trending?’ Another pause. I turned off the television. Conner took the phone from his ear and held it out for us both to see. A video clip had been sent to him. We watched the five-second clip of me slapping Mrs. Brathwaite across the face.

‘Oh, my God,’ I said as I palmed my face.

Conner cradled the phone back up to his ear. ‘Take care of it. I don’t want this shit out there,’ he barked. Another pause. ‘Novalee’s been raked through the coals enough by the media.’ Another pause. ‘What the fuck do I pay for? Call Chlo from IT and make sure she scrubs it clean. I don’t want to see this goddamn video anywhere. Am I clear?’ Another pause. ‘Let me know when it’s done.’ Conner disconnected the call.

I leaned my head back against him. ‘I’m so sorry, Conner. I know how bad this looks for you. When she hit me, I lost it.’

‘Are you kidding me? I don’t give a fuck about how it looks for me.’ He turned my head towards him with two fingers under my chin. ‘My only concern is you. This video will go away.’

‘I appreciate it. I really do. But you can’t always be my knight and shining armor, coming to the rescue every time something unflattering about me is said or shown.’

‘The hell I can’t. I got you,’ he said, his sharp eyes boring into mine. I nodded and snuggled against his chest allowing him to hold me tight. He felt and smelled so good. It had been over two months since I last felt him inside of me, yet the connection we shared, especially as of late, seemed to only intensify. ‘I love you, angel.’

‘I love you too.’

We resituated on the sofa, now both lying down, Conner spooning me from behind. He was propped up on his elbow. His lips brushed along the sensitive spot behind my ear.

‘I was 17 when my brother committed suicide. It was my fault. I failed him.’

I turned to face him, which wasn’t an easy feat with my belly between us. I propped up on my elbow, as well. I willed myself not to blink, in fear that the tears would freefall. Conner’s face was expressionless. If not for his weary eyes, one would have thought that he was discussing the weather or what he ate for dinner last night. It would have been odd if I hadn’t known that Conner was an expert at suppressing his emotions. When his survival mode kicked in, he knew how to effectively clink his psychological body armor into place.

I knew the last thing he wanted or needed was my pity or my tears, though the latter would be a challenge. I cleared my throat before calmly asking, ‘Why do you think you failed him?’

Conner didn’t answer right away. Instead, he moved to lie flat on his back, tucking an arm behind his head. I snuggled against his side and placed my hand over his, which rested on his abdomen. Staring up at the ceiling, he replied, ‘I should have done more to protect him. He had it way worse than I did.’ I watched him intently, but his gaze remained fixed on the ceiling. I watched the column of his throat. His Adam’s apple moved up and down as he visibly swallowed. ‘He was her favorite.’

‘Conn—,’ I began with a shaky voice, before trying again. ‘Conner,’ I repeated. He was here with me, but he wasn’t here with me. His mind was elsewhere. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before continuing to stare vacantly at the ceiling. His signature scowl was now in place, the one that I, when first meeting him, attributed to his arrogance, coldness, and indifference. Now, all I saw was self-loathing and torment. My heart shattered into pieces and mingled with the shards of his broken heart.

I threaded my fingers through his and rested my head against his chest. I understood why he wouldn’t look at me. Sometimes, the pain, shame, and guilt were too much and threatened to swallow you whole. There was a paralyzing fear in sharing your secrets, your flaws, and your failures with someone that you loved. Would it forever change the way they looked at you?

After our confrontation with Martina (she was no longer Mrs. Brathwaite to me), I knew that I wouldn’t push for any details that he wasn’t ready or willing to give. I now knew why his eyes held no life. Why he used bourbon and meaningless sex with nameless blonds to suppress the memories. The curvaceous blonds were the opposite of his rail-thin, tall, supermodel mother with olive skin and long black hair. ‘You didn’t fail Colton. Your mother failed him. Your father failed him. Failed you both.’

Conner’s chest rose and fell from a laborious sigh. ‘My father doesn’t know. And I can never tell him. You and my therapist are the only people I’ve ever told. And after this conversation, I never want to discuss this with you again. Am I clear?’

I looked up at him, and our eyes briefly met. ‘Crystal.’

‘Good ole’ dad was too busy fucking his way through the office to ever really be present at home. The bastard didn’t have a clue. He knew he was a shitty father, but he thought we were left in the hands of a competent mother. A mother who loved her sons and always doted on them. A mother who fired our nanny because she wanted to be a hands-on mother.’ Conner chuckled dryly.

‘Are you comfortable?’ he asked, snapping out of his memories. He scooted over a bit, towards the back-seat cushion of the couch and pulled me closer to him.

I looked up at him with a small smile. ‘I’m okay. This couch is big enough for both of us.’  Here he was tending to me while he was on the verge of drowning.

He sat up and scooted his back up against the arm of the couch and pulling me into him to sit between his legs. ‘Better?’ he asked.

‘Mmm-hmm.’ I pressed my back into the ridges of his hard body. He nuzzled his chin into my hair. We were both quiet for a moment. I reached for his hand, brought it up to my lips and kissed it. ‘You know I love you, right?’ I asked. ‘And there’s nothing you can say right now that will ever change that.’

‘I know you love me. But I’m about to share the absolute worst of me. I won’t blame you if you don’t want to stick around.’ I shook my head in protest and disagreement. Tears immediately streaked my cheeks as soon as I closed my eyes and listened to him.

‘It didn’t happen overnight. It was gradual. The lines are so blurred that I can’t even say when things became…inappropriate. I should know. What kind of person am I, not to know that?’ The pain in his voice gutted me.

I started to speak, but Conner continued in his truth, so I remained quiet. ‘My father rarely spent his evenings at home. I can still remember being about six or seven and Colton and I begging mother if we could sleep in her bed. It became a nightly thing.

‘Father would have dinner with us every night before leaving for the evening to spend the night with his mistress. Mom was always on the verge of tears, consuming more wine than food, and father wouldn’t even lift his head up from the paper. After he was gone for the night, mom would summon us to her room.’ I brought Conner’s trembling hand up to my lips again and kissed every one of his knuckles before placing his hand back on my belly and entwining our fingers.

‘She would give us each these long kisses goodnight before nuzzling us against her breasts. I remember thinking that her kisses were too wet, too long, and taste like bitter grapes. We were eight when she started taking baths with us.’

Conner’s body was rigid and tense. I turned my head to look up at him when he didn’t continue. His eyes were shut tightly, and he vehemently shook his head as if trying to shake off dark memories. ‘We were about ten she started masturbating in front of us. She would liquor us up with bourbon and have us touch her. Things progressed pretty quickly from there and continued to go on until I found my brother hanging with a fucking belt around his neck.’

I turned around entirely and straddled him. I threaded my fingers through his hair and crushed his face to my chest. The wetness from my tears soaked into his hair. ‘He left me a note. I keep it in my study,’ he said, his face pressed against my chest.

I held him as close as I could, as close as my belly would allow. ‘So, there you have it. I’m an alcoholic.  I’m a ruthless, mean bastard. I’ve fucked hundreds of women, most of who I don’t even remember their names. I’m a sick fuck who was literally a motherfucker. And I let my brother die on my watch.’

I cradled the sides of Conner’s jaw in the palms of my hands.  I looked him square in the eyes, my vision blurred with my tears. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

He searched my face. His own face reflected a look of puzzlement. ‘Why?’

‘As cliché as it may sound, we’re soulmates. We’re kindred spirits— you and me. They tried to ruin us, but we’re still here. We may be broken and battered, but our past is just that. Our past. It won’t define us. We won’t let them win. We’ve been given something so special. So rare.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Love. All-consuming, undeniable, unbridled, dizzying, electrifying, blazing love.’

‘I honestly don’t know what I would do without you.’

‘Ditto,’ I said, as I smiled through my tears. I planted a kiss to Conner’s forehead, then to the tip of his nose. The heat from his hands branded my back as he held me tight.

Our sons stretched and fluttered in my belly against Conner’s chest.  His lips twitched with a slight smile. ‘You’re it for me, you know. You and our sons, and maybe a few kids down the road, are all I’ll ever need.’

I flashed Conner a megawatt smile. ‘Easy there, cowboy.’ In actuality, I wanted nothing more than to have lots and lots of babies with him.

I raked my nails through his hair, down to his scalp. A low growl erupted from his throat. ‘I love you so fucking much,’ he rasped, as he raised his head from my breasts and looked up at me. His otherworldly vivid green eyes bore into me and made my insides turn to mush.

I slowly leaned into him, our lips nearly touching. It had been months since we kissed, and although I wanted to feel his lips and his velvety tongue against mine, I hesitated in making the first move. A lot had happened today, and I wasn’t sure if he was in the right headspace for us to take things to the next level. I got my answer as I felt his groin surge beneath me, and his hand gripped the nape of my neck. Conner pressed his lips against mine in a desperate kiss.

‘If you don’t want to take this further, we should stop,’ he said against my mouth.

I responded by sinking my teeth into his lower lip and tugging it. Then my mouth attacked his, sucking on his tongue and kissing him frantically. I felt the heat of his erection. I knew that it had to be uncomfortable, being restricted behind his boxer briefs and pants. I intended to rectify that, immediately.

‘Is it safe?’ he managed to ask between kisses.

‘Doc said it’s okay,’ I said as I worked on unbuckling his belt.

Conner hiked my dress up to my waist. His hand found my center. ‘You’re soaked.’

‘You see what you do to me?’ I grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, revealing his rock-hard chest and washboard abs. My dress and bra followed soon after.

‘Bedroom. Now.’ His voice was hard and authoritative. I was giddy with excitement from his command. I loved it when he bossed me around in the bedroom.

We quickly made it to my room, kissing and running our hands all over each other’s bodies. Conner looked down at me adoringly, as I stood before him wearing only a pair of black boyshort panties. ‘You’re incredible,’ he said, causing me to blush under his lustful stare.

I ran my fingers down every ridge of his granite abs, trailing my tongue along his faint chest hairs. He hissed as my tongue licked the flat disc of his nipple. I craved this man. I couldn’t wait any longer. I quickly fumbled with the button and zipper of his pants, biting my bottom lip and focusing on the task at hand. He let out a deep rumble of a chuckle, as I grew frustrated from the few extra seconds it took to unfasten his pants. We reunited in a kiss before I pressed my hands against his chest and shoved him back onto the bed.

‘You’re so fucking sexy,’ he growled, as he scooted back and removed his pants, boxer briefs, and socks, all in one swoop. Watching me through hooded eyes, he lay on his back, slightly raised on his forearms. I creamed in my panties from just feasting my eyes upon him. He looked like a sculpted Greek god, every inch of his tanned skin glistening from the moonlight seeping through my window blinds. His shredded body was perfection. A work of art. His green eyes were fully dilated, almost to a deep slated gray.  His thick, long jutted cock stood at attention.  I took a moment to stare down at the sexiest man I’d ever known.

Grabbing the remote from the edge of my bed, I pressed play to Beyoncé’s 1+1.

‘Come here.’ His masculine voice was low and laced with hunger. I peeled my panties off and started towards him onto the mattress.

My big mass of curls fell into my face and down my shoulders as I crawled to him and straddled his muscle-clad body. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him up for a kiss. Our tongues stroked as we drew love, strength, and acceptance from one another. With every kiss, pieces of our broken hearts were fused together. I kissed him tenderly, gently sucking his bottom lip. His tongue trailed along the seams of my lips before fucking my mouth with his skilled tongue.

Our mouths eventually separated, and our lips were wet and swollen. My head lolled back as he feasted on my overly sensitive nipples. He tugged on a nipple with his teeth, causing moan to erupt from me. I was slick with lust, our exposed centers rubbing and teetering close to penetration.

With his hands, he gently lifted me and lowered me down onto him. We both groaned like wounded animals as we got reacquainted with the feel of each other. After a few seconds of being still and stretching around his size, I pushed him back onto the bed. Conner’s slew of profanity and groans spurred me on, and I splayed my hands on his abs and moved with him inside of me. We both gasped from the intense physical pleasure of being connected as one. I circled my hips over and over, enjoying the delicious sensations buzzing throughout my body. My hair was a sweaty mess, the unruly, sticky curls falling in my face. I shoved a hand through my damp hair as I rode him in order to see the magnificent man beneath me.

Conner’s fingers bit into my hips, and I scraped my fingernails across his chest, causing red welts to streak his skin. The feeling of having him buried inside of me was euphoric.  My nerve endings were on fire, and I screamed his name over and over. Heat spread throughout my entire body as he stretched me and filled me. He clutched my hips, guiding me up and down onto his shaft. The dominant in him topped me from the bottom. I could feel myself getting close, as my thighs quivered, and my greedy walls started to spasm. Conner pushed me over the edge when his fingers met center, taking juices from our lovemaking and rubbing them on my clit. I cried out as my walls clamped tightly around him, causing a guttural groan to escape from his lips as he spilled inside of me. We fell over the cliff together, our sweaty bodies trembling with a sedated lust.

∞∞∞

THE NEXT MORNING, I was awakened by Conner slipping his cock between my slick folds, while spooning me from behind.  I turned my head to him, and we kissed hard. Morning breath, and all. His hand cupped my breasts as he unhurriedly stroked inside of me.  I cried out, and my body trembled as his nimble fingers found the tight button of nerves between my legs. The slow and hard thrusting of his cock, the pressure from his fingers, and the feel of his tongue and lips sucking on my neck, sent me over the edge. A violent orgasm rippled through my entire body. His crashing orgasm came seconds later.

We lie together long after, still spooning, his arm resting across my hip.  His fingertips made leisure circles on my belly.  I yawned, simmering against the warmth of his body. ‘What’s on your mind?’ he asked, his voice, hoarse with sleepiness.

‘Birthday cake.’

‘Birthday cake?’ I heard the humor in his voice.

‘Not just any birthday cake, but a German Chocolate birthday cake.’

‘Oh, I see,’ he said. ‘German Chocolate birthday cake. Of course.’

I turned around and faced him, our heads resting on the same pillow. ‘I want to make you a birthday cake. We didn’t get a chance to celebrate your birthday last month. I know you only like gross healthy food, but everyone should have chocolate cake on their birthday.’

His face relaxed into a soft smile. ‘I don’t celebrate my birthday anymore. But if you want a German chocolate cake, I’ll buy you one. Maybe I’ll have a bite. Off of you, that is.’

‘Okay, not a birthday cake. Just a regular cake.’ I returned his soft smile and lightly scraped my nails against the scruffy hair along his jaw. ‘You need to shave.’ He took my hand in his and kissed it, before playfully nipping one of my fingers with his teeth.

I squealed with laughter as he rubbed his face against my breasts. ‘That tickles,’ I bellowed out through laughs. My giggles quickly became moans, as he ran his tongue along my nipple before sucking on it.

‘Move in with me.’ He raised his head from my breasts to look up at me. I stared at him for a few beats, the words failing to come forth. He scooted up beside me, propping up on his elbow. He studied me, patiently waiting for my answer.

‘I don’t know if we’re ready for that.’

‘Bullshit.’ He said without heat, his demeanor calm. ‘I want to wake up with you every morning and go to bed with you every night. Besides, our sons will be here soon. You three can’t leave here.’

‘What’s wrong with my place?’ I asked, defensively. ‘I love my apartment. There’s plenty of space here.’

His facial features were schooled into an impassive deadpan stare. ‘I didn’t mean to offend.  You have a great place here, for you. But you are pregnant with our sons. They’ll be Brathwaites. One day you’ll be a Brathwaite. There is a certain lifestyle that Brathwaites are accustomed to.’

‘I want them to have a normal childhood.’

‘But their childhood won’t be normal. Not in the way you want it to be.’

‘I don’t want them to become rich, pampered snobs.’

‘I don’t want that either. My last name comes with its own challenges and overwhelming expectations. But with you as their mother, paired with my billions, and intense therapy,’ he smirked, before continuing, ‘What could go wrong?’

‘Ha-ha. That’s not funny,’ I teased. The reality of becoming parents in just a few short weeks terrified me as much as it excited me. What if we sucked at this parenting thing? It’s not like we had the best parental examples growing up.

‘I’m scared too,’ Conner admitted as if reading my mind. ‘I want our sons to have everything that I didn’t. Fuck the money. It’s not about that. I want them to feel safe and loved. I want them to have the type of childhood that you and I dreamed of having.’

‘I want that too,’ I smiled, before running my fingers through his locks.

‘And I’m serious about therapy. We’re both going to need boatloads of it.’ Couldn’t argue with him there. ‘Because of who I am and what we have, certain security adjustments will have to be made. This place will never work.’

‘You mean what you have.’

‘What’s mine is yours. We won’t be getting a prenup.’

‘You’re such a cocky bastard. Already talking about marriage and you haven’t even asked. And what makes you so certain that I’d say yes?’ I playfully rolled my eyes.

‘A man can dream, right?’ He smiled, revealing his perfect straight white teeth. ‘I have to make sure you’re all safe. I know you were adamant about not having your own security detail before, but I need you to be okay with that happening now.’

I understood Conner’s need to protect the ones he loved. I could relate to the distrust he had in people. I felt it too. The world could be a cruel and ugly place. We both knew that if your own mother could cause you repeated harm, then there wasn’t much hope in others. Our sons were going to extremely wealthy, inheriting the Brathwaite family fortune one day. That would make them targets. It would make me a target. Conner’s Achilles heel.

‘If you don’t want to move in with me, let me build you a house. One that can provide you with more protection…and one in close proximity to me, of course.’

‘That won’t be necessary.’

‘Why must you be so difficult, woman?’ There was mock frustration in his tone.

‘You know you like it,’ I teased. His eyes burned with arousal. ‘Okay, Conner,’ I said on a breath, feigning exasperation.

‘Okay?’ He searched my eyes.

‘Okay. I’ll move in with you. We’ll move in with you,’ I amended, placing a hand on my belly.

He smiled a smile so bright, one that reached his eyes. ‘I love you so much, angel. You and our boys are my whole world.’

I sighed with contentment as I snuggled close to him and rested my head on his chest.

‘Now there’s only one thing left to do.’

‘What’s that?’ I asked as I lazily ran my fingers along the hard muscles in his arm.

‘Convince you to marry me. But I’m working on it,’ Conner said, with a smile in his voice.

I knew unequivocally that I would say yes whenever he asked.

‘Now get some sleep,’ he said. ‘I’m not done with you yet.’ He swatted me on my backside.

‘Fiend. You’re going to have to feed me first.’ We both chuckled as he pulled the covers back over us, and I drifted back to sleep.