Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 28998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 145(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 145(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
I nearly vault out of bed, filled with an effervescent energy that makes me want to dance naked through the house or go bounce on a trampoline like a little girl. Instead, I go into the shower and stand beneath the warm water, humming to myself like a goofball.
I reach down and press my hand against my stomach, remembering Finn’s words from last night.
“I’m going to breed you, Mira. I’m going to pump my load inside your fresh little cunt and put a baby in you. Then you’ll be truly mine.”
So fricking hot.
I try to picture what my belly would look like pregnant. Big and round, like a watermelon stuffed under my shirt. It’s such a thrill to think about. I can’t imagine what Sandy’s going to say. Not to mention my parents.
But to be honest, I don’t care. Mom will end up being supportive. She always has been, and we’ve formed an incredible bond over the last couple of years since she got sick. Dad, on the other hand, is going to be furious. But so what? For the first time, I don’t feel like a pawn on his chess board. I’d rather scatter all the pieces to the floor than play his game any longer, and if that means leaving the family entirely and going to live with Finn, then that’s what I’ll do.
I’m his now.
I don’t care where we live, just as long as there’s room for our babies. As long as we have a cast iron pan that I can use to make cinnamon pancakes. I’m a crappy cook right now, and that’s all I can make, but I’ll learn. I’ll be a good woman for Finn. A good mother for our children. And I’ll be happy. We all will.
The whole world feels different today. Brighter. More alive. The colors are more saturated. My whole body feels lighter, despite the soreness between my legs, reminding me of who I gave myself to last night.
I know it was my first time, but my God is Finn enormous. I can’t believe I survived a pounding from that monster. But all I know is I’m ready for some more. Soon.
I’m smiling as I head downstairs. I’m no longer Mira Coolidge, the future wife to Tyler Beckensworth, the hedge fund douchebag. I’m just Mira, Finn’s girl.
Should I get myself a leather jacket? Maybe a motorcycle too? I wonder how he’d react to seeing me that way.
I pass my mom’s room on the way to the kitchen. Her door is open slightly, so I knock and step inside. She’s reading Agatha Christie by the window and looks up and smiles as I come in.
“You look different this morning,” she proclaims. I instantly feel myself blushing. There’s that mom sense of hers again.
“Oh?” I ask, trying not to let her see me blushing. “I’m probably just red from the shower. How are you feeling—?”
“No, that’s not it,” she interrupts. “You—you’re in love, Mira!”
I can’t even hide it. My jaw drops, and I have to place my palm over my mouth to stop myself from giggling like a school girl. “Is it that obvious?”
My mom nods eagerly. “And it isn’t Tyler.”
“It’s not.” I shake my head.
“Well?” she presses, obviously excited. “Who is he, and when do I get to meet him?”
She pats the bed by her chair, and I go over and take a seat beside her. “Well, I know you might not believe this, but he’s a mechanic at a bike shop in town. We met when he fixed my car battery for me.”
Mom’s eyes gleam as I go over the story with her, leaving out all the bits too hot for TV, of course. It’s clear she’s almost as excited as I am about me falling in love with Finn. But I guess that’s what being a mother is all about—being happy for your children. Hopefully I’ll know firsthand in about nine months.
“That’s wonderful,” she says as I finish the story. “Just wonderful, sweetheart. I couldn’t be happier for you!”
“Thanks, Mom.” I smile. I’m trying my best not to think about just how she’s going to manage to continue her treatments now that I’m not going to be marrying Tyler, but she sees it in my eyes and pats me on the knee.
“Don’t worry about me, honey. I’ll be fine.”
“Would you stop reading my mind?” I reply with a smirk.
“That’s what moms do,” she laughs. “If you’re going to the kitchen, would you mind bringing me some tea? I’ve got a bit of a headache, and it always seems to help.”
“Of course,” I say, standing. “I’ll be right back.”
I slip out of Mom’s room and head down the hall to the kitchen, but when I pass through the foyer, I spot a courier approaching the door. I open it just as he’s about to knock.