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Dangerous: Made & Broken (A British Bad Boy Romance) by Nora Ash (25)

Chapter 25

4 Months Later

Blaine

 

“Blaine!”

I smiled at the irritated voice calling from the nursery. The closer Mira got to her due date, the outright bitchier she was getting, but I didn’t mind all that much. Her pregnancy hormones were still ensuring multiple rounds of sex every day, so I took her equally frequent yelling in good spirit.

It was pretty hard to be too upset when you were working on a constant orgasm-high.

I stripped my T-shirt off and jogged up the stairs toward the nursery.

“You called, my beautiful love?” I said with a smirk as I stepped into the room we had both spent so much time picking out furniture and decor for these past few months. I had never been much of an interior designer, to put it mildly, but when it came to our baby’s room, I’d found myself having an opinion about cots and lambskin and those colorful things you hang over a baby’s crib that I had no idea what was called. I wanted this kid to know he was loved from the moment he opened his eyes.

In the center of the room, with her hands on her round hips, my balloon-shaped wife was standing with an irritated scowl on her face. “You painted it blue! After I specifically said we would go for something gender neutral.”

I shrugged and swaggered over to her to put my hands around her face so I could lift her chin and kiss her on the nose.

“Ugh, Blaine, stop that!” she hissed, swatting at my hands as I let them travel down to her full breasts. “They’re sore, and I’m mad at you!”

“You’re mad at me because I painted the room blue?” I asked innocently, without taking my hands off her tits. I knew how to navigate her pregnancy-swollen body without causing her any discomfort, and I also knew she’d be up for a quick fuck once she was done yelling at me.

“Yes! We don’t know the gender, and what if it’s a girl?”

“Then she’s getting a pretty, robin's egg blue room, Mrs. Shrink. Shouldn’t you be all about color-equality? Besides. I have a feeling it’s a boy.”

Mira’s cheeks flushed a pretty pink, and I hid my smirk against the top of her auburn hair. She didn’t particularly like it when I pointed out I had her beat, and I was looking forward to a quick romp before I had to get back to work.

“Yes, well… just because you keep calling the baby ‘he’ doesn’t mean it’s a boy.”

“Mmhm,” I agreed, letting my hands slide underneath her heavy breasts to gently lift them up the way she especially liked after they’d grown two cup sizes with the pregnancy. I loved to feel the weight of them in my hands. Everything about her had always been so lush and beautiful, but seeing her heavy with my child really revved my engine. The twins called me perverted, but I didn’t give a fuck. Nothing was sexier than the feel of my pregnant wife underneath and around me.

“I know what you’re doing,” she grumbled, but the way she tilted her head to give me better access to the sensitive spots on her neck told me she didn’t mind in the least.

“You are a smart bird,” I hummed into her ear before I obligingly dipped my lips to her throat.

“Jerk,” she growled angrily.

“Mmhm.” My cock was already hard in my jeans, and I regretted not getting out of them sooner. But when I reached down to undo the zipper, Mira jerked against me.

I looked up from her neck. “You okay, love?”

A pained spasm went across her face, and my heart dropped. Something was wrong.

“Love? Is it the baby?”

Mira breathed deeply a few times before she looked up at me. “Yeah. I think… I think it’s time, Blaine.”

“What do you mean, ‘time’?” I said, doing my best to fight back the rising panic in my gut. I’d left my phone downstairs, so I couldn’t call anyone for help. I could always run down the stairs and alert the guys out front, but then I’d have to leave her behind—

“The baby’s coming,” she interrupted me with an eye roll, seconds before I was about to lift her up and carry her down myself in a full sprint. “Stop panicking and go get my bag. It’s time to see if you’re right about it being a boy.”

I stared at her for a couple of seconds, my mind slowly shaking off the panic.

“It’s time?” I said.

Mira smiled, probably at my slow processing. “Yeah, it is. Are you ready?”

Was I ready?

Nine months ago, I would have said no—absolutely was I not ready to be a father, not now, not ever.

But then she had come into my life. My wife. And I had finally learned what it meant to be truly happy.

Starting a family with her… No matter what happened going forward, with my father and our tense truce, with the business and with all the bad blood selling out the Clerys had brought down upon us, I knew it was all worth it. Because I had my own little family now, and no one was ever going to take it away from me.

Yes, I was ready.


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