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Hi lovely readers,
I promised I wouldn't take too long to upload the next chapter and here it is! It isn't as long as the previous onces, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Please comment and let me know what you think of this chapte and don't forget to vote! TNTCE is currently #51 in general fiction and I'm trying to get it to a lower number!
Once again, I hope you enjoy and I'll see you soon
Love Chelcia xx
Warning: This chapter contains mild sexual scenes
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Kayla: 32 weeks pregnant
"Are you sure you're okay?" Damion asks as he closes the front door behind us. I swallow hard as I look around the spacious living room and everything looks the exact same and as if nothing had ever happened, or no one had even been in here. I look to where Derek was sprawled out on the floor and my stomach tightens as I momentarily close my eyes, trying to remove the vivid image of him out of my head. I feel Damion's hand on my shoulder and he pulls me closer to him. "It's okay now, I'm here," he says, sensing my unease and he lets my purse and hospital bag that he was carrying fall from his hand to the floor. Pulling me into an embrace, he buries his nose into my hair, inhaling deeply as he soothingly strokes my back. I wrap my arms around him, holding him close as he says, "You're safe now," before kissing my hair. A river that I didn't know was in place burst its banks as tears begin to rush down my face. Just so much has happened in the past day; from Derek, to thinking something might have been wrong with the baby and to all of the questioning from the cops. I sob and he cradles my head but I can't stop, I simply weep into his chest. "Hush, baby, it's okay," he whispers, but the tears only continue to course down my face.
I don't know how long we stand there for, his arms wrapped around mine as I continue to cry into his chest, but he continues to hold me. I feel safe a sense of security as I lay my head on his chest as the tears gradually subsides, and he rests his chin on my hair.
"I'm sorry," I then mumble, and my voice is hoarse and quiet.
"I hate seeing you cry," he says. I look up at him and delicately, he smoothes the hair back from my face and it's as if I calm immediately. He leans forward and kisses me between my brows and I didn't even realise that they were furrowed together. I pout and Damion laughs softly as I return my head to his firm chest. He always kisses in between my brows when I'm frowning and he always says that one day my face will get stuck like that if I continue worrying about things. I know he's thinking about the same thing when I feel his smile against my forehead, as he kisses my temple once more. "Now that you've had a good little cry, are you hungry?"
"When am I not?" I ask, as I grin up at him.
He laughs and says, "Pretty good question, now what do you want, babe?"
I look up at him and batter my eyelashes like a teenage school girl as I place my hand in the middle of his chest and say, "You," and smirk at him. Holy hell, did I just say that?
Damion's eyebrows shoot up in surprise and his mouth twists as he tries to hide his amusement. As if he is lost for words, he stutters, "Oh really? What's changed your mood all of a sudden?" and I feel his heart rate increasing under my hand. "Not saying that's a bad idea," he quickly adds and his hands drape down to my lower back.
I raise an eyebrow at him, that's a pretty good question actually. I never know where these pregnancy hormones will take me. I can go from bawling my eyes out and feeling all sad and depressed, to wanting to kill somebody or to feeling extremely, extremely turned on. I don't know how Damion copes sometimes. I cock my head to one side and I shrug my shoulders as I try to bite back a giggle, with full knowledge that I'm driving him nuts. He arches his own eyebrow at me and then says, "I'll never understand what's going on in that brain of yours." He then leans down and presses a subdued kiss on my lips, his lips soft and warm against mine and I smile.
My stomach rumbles, bringing our kiss to a stop and I rest my hand on my bump. "Oh damn, I really am hungry. Let me cook us some pasta," I say.
He nods and we finally move from our position in front of the door, and I make my way to the bedroom. I get undressed and quickly shower, before sliding into my pyjamas. Within thirty minutes, I cook us a tomato and mozzarella pasta and we sit opposite each other at the small, intimate, table for two in the kitchen, in silence, simply enjoying our meals.
"I didn't even get to find out what it was that Rosie wanted," I then say as she suddenly pops into my thoughts. I take a sip of my drink before I continue, "It was her knocking on the door before Derek," I pause and swallow hard, "Before he shot himself."
"Yeah, I was wondering what she was doing here in the first place to have known what had happened," he says, "I wonder what she wanted."
"Probably you," I mutter as I stab my fork into a pasta piece, aware that I sound like a sulky teen, "I highly doubt she wanted to see me."
"Hmm," Damion murmurs and his brows are burrowed as if he's thinking.
"What is it?" I ask, clearing my throat in hope to sound unconcerned, "Have you been speaking to her of lately?"
"No," he says, "Last night was the first time I've spoken to her or even seen her since the time you guys had your little argument."
I roll my eyes at the memory and exhale as I put my knife and fork down. I rest my elbows on the edge of the table and I can almost hear my mother telling me to remove them because it's bad table manners, but I really don't care. I cup my chin in the palm of my hands and sigh. Rosie was surprisingly really nice yesterday. We didn't say much while we waited for the ambulance and the cops to come, but she did get a towel from the bathroom to try and stop Derek's wound from bleeding. Plus I didn't expect her to come to the hospital with me and wait for so long. I really appreciated it and I didn't even get to tell her thank you.
"She was really..." I pause trying to find the right word, "I don't know, it's weird but she was kind of nice and really comforting and supportive yesterday," I explain.
Damion doesn't seem surprised as he leans back in his chair and sighs heavily. "Well she's not all bad. She might seem like the white witch, but beneath it all she can be quite loving and thoughtful," he says.
"I didn't get to tell her thanks. I mean if she didn't come knocking, then things might have gotten worse. For all I know, I could have been the one to get shot," and I place my hand on my stomach, the thought sending shivers down my spine.
"Don't worry about it, I told her how much you appreciated her staying with you before she left." I nod and exhale and we change the conversation from Rosie to baby names. It's crazy that now that the baby's coming soon, he's all we end up talking out. I love it because it just makes me so much more excited to meet my little precious.
Ten minutes later, I'm doing the washing up when Damion says, "Thank you for dinner," and I hear his footsteps behind me and seconds later, he slides his arms around my lips and then rubs my stomach. "I'm such a bad boyfriend, look at me making you cook and wash up after you've just come out of hospital," he says, his breath on my neck.
I roll my eyes, "Yes you are," but I smile and tilt my head to the side, allowing him to press a kiss onto the nape of my neck, "But I'll let you off today, especially since I felt like cooking and I find washing up very relaxing."
"I'll do something nice for you tomorrow, I promise," he says.
He then quickly dips his hand in the soapy water and then flashes it in my face and before I can even gasp, he quickly runs away laughing like the big kid that he is.
I gasp, "Hey! You douche bag!" I yell as I turn around, but he's already out of sight. I turn back around and shake my head, chuckling to myself as I wipe my face with my upper arm, just wait until I get my hands on him!
Fifteen minutes later, I'm wrapped up in the middle of the bed and resting on a mountain of pillows, waiting for Damion to join me so we can watch this movie that he wants us to watch. The bathroom door then opens and Damion walks out in his typical night time attire, only his boxer briefs. He climbs in beside me and I immediately feel the warmth of his body radiating against mine as he drapes his arm around me. He's clean, fresh and he smells of body wash - oh, he smells so good.
"Comfortable?" he asks as he fixes the cushions behind us. I nod and wait for him to finish, before leaning my head on his shoulder. My hand rests on his firm chest but within moments, I'm drawing patterns in his chest with my fingertips. He presses a kiss into my hair and we lay there, our eyes fixed onto to the TV as we wait for the movie to begin.
About ten minutes into the movie, I random thought pops into my head. I lift my head to look at Damion, "What would you do if little bumpy was a girl?" I ask, rubbing my belly.
He looks down at me and arches an eyebrow, "Two women, eh? It would be a mad house."
I chuckle and rest my head back against him and I continue to massage my stomach, "You'd love it really."
"That better not happen though."
I frown and turn to look at him, "Why not? You don't have a preference do you?" I question, "These scans can sometimes be wrong. We all thought Natalie was going to be a boy and we nearly had a heart attack when she was born."
"Oh come on, Kayla, you know I don't," he says, "But I mean it will be a little inconvenient. Just think about it, we've got a blue nursery and pretty much all of the clothes are blue, we'd have to be dressing her up in blue for the first five months."
"That's true," I mumble and I lay my head back against his shoulder, "But I don't care, as long as he or she is healthy."
We continue to watch the movie in silence and I'm not sure I even understand what's happening. Damion briefly explained it to me a minute ago and I just nodded, but I still don't get it. It's one of them action movies with a really hot main character and a gorgeous girl, and I can bet they end up getting together by the end. I think I'm more interested in playing with his chest; I love lining my finger over his defined muscles and tracing my finger down to his oh-so-happy trail.
He then yawns loudly and then turns to face me, looking me directly in the face. He pouts his lips forwards and kisses the bridge of my nose before saying, "You're so beautiful." I frown and roll my eyes, but I end up smiling at his compliment.
"You're not too bad yourself," I say.
"I know," he says and he arches an eyebrow, "Our sons going to be as good looking as his daddy and there's going to be loads of girls lining up, just like there are for me," he smirks and winks at me. I let out a laugh at his stupid cockiness and he laughs with me and then leans forwards and plants a kiss on my lips. "Your lips are so soft," he then says before returning his lips to them. "So soft," he says once more," but this time his kiss deepens.
He kisses me hard like his life depends on it and his skilful tongue invades my mouth, and I surrender to his passionate kiss. I bring my hands to his head and run my fingers through his hair, not taking my lips from his as our tongues entwine. Whoa! I haven't felt like this in ages. I want to undress him and kiss him everywhere, whilst making love him all at once. Damn! As if reading my thoughts, his hand slides down my pyjama shorts and he clasps hold of my backside.
We've ignored our strong sexual desire for so long and focused on developing other key ingredients to our relationship first, and I regret nothing. Yes, we've had sex, but it was drunk and meaningless sex and I still have barely any clear recollection of that night. But now I love this man with my entire being and I want to make love with him.
"I love you," he breathes and I cup his face and smile as I kiss him. I'll never get tired of hearing that! Oh, how I love this man. I love how comforting he is. I love his passion. I love how sweet and thoughtful he is. I love that he's welcomed me into his life and made what is his mine. I love that he hasn't given up on me. I love that he's not the same boy that I first moved in with, the one that wanted the best of post worlds, a little bit of what he had in the past, and a little bit of the future. I love that when he holds me, he makes me feel like I'm the most precious thing in his life and I've waited for so long to feel like that. I love that he cares about our unborn child and that he cares about me... he cares. It's almost overwhelming and breathtaking.
He begins to press kisses all over my face, starting from my lips to my nose, my cheeks, my eyelids, my eyebrows and I tilt my head back and squeal. He looks at me, his blue eyes dancing with warmth and excitement and he's smiling, a smile that I've never seen before. I hold his head and bring my lips back against his and the kiss immediately intensifies.
"Can I?" he asks, his voice is husky and breathy as he moves his kiss to my neck. I nod and I drive my fingers through his hair as I tilt my neck, allowing him to deepen his kiss. He stops and he looks at me, "Are you sure? I only want to do it if you're comfortable."
"I am," I say, "I love you."
He kisses my neck once more and then murmurs, "I love you too."