“Michael…”

“Hayden, don’t,” Michael responds and I exhale a breath and try to still my hands—which are currently clasping each other tightly and resting on my really large stomach. What was I thinking? I can’t have sex. I can’t do this.

“Michael, I…that is, we can’t…Crap! I just don’t think this is a good idea.”

“It’s going to happen, Beauty. If not tonight then tomorrow, or the next one, or a week from now. Either way it’s going to happen. Does it really matter when?”

My brow furrows at his words. “Are you basically saying, we might as well get it over with?”

“Quit trying to pick a fight, Hayden. I get you’re nervous about this, but—”

“With good reason!” I grumble back at him. In response, he gru-wls, which is what I’ve decided to call it when he grunts and growls at the same time. He moves his hand over his beard, like I’ve seen him do a million times. His eyes look up to the ceiling like he’s praying for patience and then he looks back at me.

“Take off your dress.”

“You can’t be upset—wait—What?”

“Take off your dress, Hayden,” he orders and it’s definitely an order, there’s no way you could mistake it for a request. He’s also pulling his t-shirt over his head at the same time. I haven’t seen him without a shirt in months. He’s always kept one on, even when sleeping behind his pillow wall.

“Stop that! You can’t get undressed!” I stumble through the words, almost to the point of stuttering. If he strips, I know my feeble defenses will be dust.

“I’m not fucking you with clothes on, Hayden. Now get out of that dress.”

“I’m not taking my dress off. You can’t…we can’t do that. It’s not possible,” I respond, and I know I’m blushing. I can feel so much heat coming from my cheeks that it’s a wonder I don’t spontaneously combust.

“Fine,” he answers with a shrug. I’m momentarily distracted because he’s finished taking his shirt off and when he moves his shoulders, I can’t help but watch how the rest of him moves. His skin glistens on the side closest to me. His pecs move slowly, almost like a gentle dance, and his six-pack of abs all follow the same subtle movement. His side with the scarring is starkly different, but to me, no less beautiful. The scars make this swirling, angry pattern on him, but it doesn’t detract from his looks. In fact, knowing the story of how he got them, makes them almost tragically beautiful. I’ve never met a man in my life who would be willing to lay down his life for anyone. He must have loved his daughter so much. I wish I could have seen them together. My heart mourns his loss, but at the same time I know a profound sadness for the fact that Annabelle, with the beautiful blue eyes, will never get to experience the love of a father like that. The kind of love every child should have…the kind I never got. The kind I pray Maggie gets to experience someday.

“Fine?” I ask, trying to get out of the mini-trance that his body put me in. I’m letting my fingernails bite into the skin of my palm, in an effort to try and help—it’s not working. Especially when my eyes drop down and his big hands are slowly unbuttoning his jeans. Sweet Mercy…how can that simple thing be so hot and sexy? It gets better though when he unzips his pants. That’s it. He doesn’t take them off but he unzips them. They slide low on his hips and he’s not wearing anything underneath. They gape open in the front. I can see curls of dark hair, and a few inches of his hard shaft, with its ridges of veins pushing out against the darker skin. It’s curved down, the remaining inches and head of his cock completely hidden by the dark denim of his jeans. My heart nearly stops and turns over in my chest, and I lick my lips, as I imagine pulling his dick out and running my tongue along it…I’ve never done that. Blade wasn’t an oral type of person—at least with me. He got plenty of blow jobs from the club girls—not that I knew that at the time. With me it was strictly hard and fast sex for him. It was never really good to be honest. Being with Michael opened my eyes to a lot.

“I’ll just rip the dress off of you,” he grins, like that’s the most normal thing in the world.

“What? Uh…No. I like this dress,” I tell him, fear suddenly pulling me out of the stupor I was in.

“Hayden—”

“Michael, I’m not comfortable having sex…not with being so far along and things,” I tell him with complete honesty.

He looks me over, and his forehead gets that little crinkle that it always gets when he’s thinking about something. “Did the doctors tell you that you shouldn’t have sex?” he asks, his voice going soft, as his hand comes up to curl around the side of my neck.

“What? No. I mean I didn’t ask them because you weren’t in the picture and it didn’t seem necessary, but they said everything was fine and to resume normal activities during my checkup last week. I guess sex is normal…” I trail off when I watch the smile that moves over his face and nerves attack again. “But I mean I don’t have long to go and….”

“Kiss me, Beauty,” he interrupts, his voice dropping down low into my favorite timbre. My body takes that small step towards him, without me even realizing it. The minute I do his arms go around me. I feel them bite into the cheeks of my ass. My hands grasp his biceps and my fingers bite into the rock-hard, solid flesh. I use the hold to steady myself, while I try to pull myself from this magnetic hold he has on me.

“Michael. I’m not sure I forgive you, yet.”

“But you want me,” he counters—and he’s not wrong.

“We have so much between us still, Michael,” I try again.

“I know… clothes,” he jokes. He actually jokes. His eyes sparkle with a mixture of heat and I think I see a trace of happiness. Have I seen that in him before? Maybe a quick flash, but this is different—this feels different.

“I’m huge…” I tell him, trying another tact as a Hail Mary because everything inside of me is urging me to take what he’s offering. I miss sex…No. That’s wrong. I miss, Michael.

“You’re perfect,” he corrects me and something about the way his fingers are moving along my neck with his thumb brushing against the side of my face, makes me believe him.

“You say that now but what happens if I go into labor in the middle of…you know…”

“You said the doctor said you aren’t due for another month, now right? Plus, it’s your first baby. First time mothers always deliver late.”

“You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

“All but one thing,” he agrees—smile still in place. His hands slide to my back and I can hear the sound of the zipper sliding down on my dress. He’s unzipping it painfully slow and with each inch he reveals, the heat in his eyes intensifies. My heart is pounding in my chest and my mouth is dry. “I can’t figure out why you’re still dressed, Beauty.”

“Don’t hurt me, Michael,” I plead, as he finishes, and my dress begins falling off my shoulders.

I hope he understands I’m not talking physically…