Fulfillment (Book 3 in The Temptation Series) (4 page)

I decided that
as I was awake before Bryce—and that it was, in fact, a rarity—I
would make him breakfast for once. The problem with that idea was
that I prayed to God I’d be able to keep the contents of my stomach
exactly where they should be—in my stomach. Having a heightened
sense of smell was definitely not one of my favourite perks of
pregnancy. Touch...yes. Smell...no.

I swear I had
developed superhuman smelling abilities, and unfortunately, most of
the scents I picked up on sent my tummy into a state of nausea. A
client had come into the foyer the other day, and straight away I
could smell onions. I must have resembled a Customs Sniffer-dog,
sticking my nose in the air as he walked in and practically giving
the poor man an interrogation as to where the onion smell was
coming from. Mr. Onions had quickly revealed that he’d eaten a
salad roll containing them for lunch, and I’m guessing he’d hoped
that his confession was enough for me to drop the questioning. It
was. But, as soon as he entered Bryce’s office, I’d had no choice
but to run to the bathroom, only to be greeted with my
half-digested morning tea.
Oh, hello banana and hot white
chocolate, nice to see you again. Urgh!

My plans for
breakfast were to cook Bryce some bacon and eggs with a fruit salad
as a side. Cooking this particular meal could prove to be a risky
move as eggs were definitely a vomit-express trigger, but I knew he
loved his eggs for breakfast, so I was willing to take that
gamble.

I decided I
would have a little work out on the gym set before breakfast. I
hadn’t exercised in such a long time, and quite frankly I felt very
blah, tight, and sore. Working out during pregnancy was perfectly
safe, and I knew from my past experience that moderate exercise
early on in your pregnancy could be extremely beneficial, not only
for weight control but also for mobility and the prevention aches
and pain.

I started with
a five-minute, warm-up walk on the treadmill.
Ah, this isn’t so
bad
. I felt good, so I eagerly moved across to the exercise
bike for a twenty-minute, fat-burning cycle on a low setting,
again, easing myself back into it.

After my
subtle fat-burning cycle, I figured I would try some light weights.
I was pretty sure my muscle mass had packed its bags and pissed off
elsewhere, due to having basically neglected to use my muscles for
anything of late, including sex, thanks to Bryce. So the loss of my
flexed biceps saddened me. I gave them a little jiggle.
I’m
pretty sure they are not supposed to just wobble and flap like
that.
I gave them another jiggle.
I’m pretty sure I look
like an idiot.

I dropped my
arms self-consciously, glad that City Towers was one of the taller
buildings in the vicinity and that no-one else could see me
standing on the roof top with my arms out, wobbling my arm fat and
resembling some nutcase practising a new weird-arsed dance
move.

Disgusted and
embarrassed by my arm-flabbiness, I was now keen to get
reacquainted with the weight machine in front of me. I executed
some lateral pull-downs, chest presses and bicep curls then
switched to my lower body and carried out a couple of leg
extensions, abductor crunches and leg presses. Bryce also had a
cross trainer, so I opted to finish off on that, running at a low
level for 10 minutes. That was when he came out with a horrified
look on his face.

I smiled at
him, but his look didn’t change, so I slowed down my strides to ask
him what was wrong. “Is everything alright?”

“I don’t think
you should be exercising on your own. Why didn’t you wake me?” He
leaned up against the weight machine and crossed his arms over his
abdomen.

“Because you
were sleeping soundly, and I thought that since I need to get used
to waking at different hours, I’d get up, do a work out, then cook
you breakfast.” I slowed to a stop, took a long swig of my water
and stepped off the machine.

As I took that
final step down, my legs nearly gave way and I stumbled slightly
into Bryce’s waiting arms. “What the fuck, Alexis? Are you trying
to kill yourself and our child?” he yelled angrily.

“Of course
not. Don’t be silly,” I said a little shocked. “My legs just need a
second to remember how to work again, that’s all.”

“Exactly, you
haven’t worked out in a while. You need to take it easy. Should you
even be working out at all?” he asked with an accusatory tone. A
tone I did not like.

“Yes, it’s
fine. I just need to do a little, a little more often.”

“Well from now
on, you are not doing it without me, got it?”

“Bryce you’re
being ridiculous.”
And annoyingly bossy.

“No, I’m not.”
He opened my water bottle and not so subtly requested I drink some
more. I snatched the bottle from his hands and released myself from
his grip.

“I told you,
exercising is fine. It’s perfectly safe, and I’m going to continue
to do it with or without you. I will not allow myself to undo all
the hard work I’ve put in over the past few years.” I walked past
him and headed to the kitchen.

“Alexis, I’m
just trying to keep you both safe.”

He followed
behind me, stopping at the other side of the bench. I’d pre-made
the fruit salad, so moved it toward him without saying a word. I
cracked a few eggs into a frying pan and toasted some bread while
the eggs cooked. Thankfully, the fact I was now pissed off
effectively distracted me from the possibility of vomiting.

“Alexis.”

“What?” I
still refused to look at him as I continued cooking breakfast.

I had placed
some bacon under the griller on low before I started my work out,
and it was now perfectly crisp. I pulled it out and arranged it on
the plate then scooped the eggs from the pan and placed them onto
the slices off buttered toast.

“Hunny, please
look at me.” His voice had softened so I looked up. “Maybe you
should stop exercising until we speak to Dr. Rainer?”

“So, this is
how it’s going to be, is it? You are going to completely ignore
everything I say until you get Dr. Rainer’s approval?”

He didn’t say
anything, so I shoved his breakfast in front of him and stormed off
toward our bedroom. I had suddenly lost my appetite.

CHAPTER THREE

Reeling from Bryce’s blatant
disregard for my knowledge of what is and isn’t safe during
pregnancy, I turned on the taps to the shower and removed my sweat
dampened clothes. I didn’t appreciate being treated like a child. I
was not a child, nor was I a naive and inexperienced first-time
mum. I knew what I could and couldn’t do; I knew my limits. I also
knew that if I didn’t watch what I ate and stayed somewhat
physically active, I was bound to pile on the weight, ache all over
and become mentally depressed again.

After
Charlotte was born, I, like most women after having children, had
stacked on the kilos and struggled to lose them for months and
months. I had found myself sinking into a hole of misery and
depression, and I sure as hell didn’t want to find myself back
there. Being in that state of mind was horrible; I had felt shitty,
been bad-tempered, and I’d never slept well. I’d had no energy,
physically ached all over, ate nothing but crap, and made really
bad lifestyle choices. All in all, I was just downright horrible to
myself and the people around me. So I knew that if I didn’t
maintain the healthy lifestyle I had now become accustomed to, I
would head down that terrible path again, and I was not about to
let that happen. Bryce was just going to have to back the fuck off.
This was my body, my baby—okay, our baby—but my body, and I knew
how to look after it, not him.
Well no, that is somewhat of a
lie. He does look after my body exceptionally well, especially when
he combines his hands and mouth...and...Stop it, Alexis.

I stepped into
the shower and, shortly after, Bryce appeared at the door holding
my breakfast and a cup of tea he had made.

“What are you
doing?” I asked him frustratingly.

“You didn’t
eat your breakfast.”

“I don’t want
it,” I hissed at him. “I’ve lost my appetite.”

“You
are
going to eat your breakfast, even if I have to come
in there and feed it to you myself.”

“Seriously,
Bryce, you are being an overbearing pain the arse. I’m not hungry
right now. If I become hungry after my shower, then I’ll eat.”

“Alexis, you
have just had a workout which you haven’t done in a while. You need
to replenish your energy levels.”

“Bryce!” I
yelled, and moved to the opening of the shower to glare at him.

He stepped
forward so quickly I barely had time to react to the piece of toast
he assertively pressed into my mouth while steadying me with his
arm at the same time. I choked, spat half the contents back out,
and freed myself from his grasp.

“What are you
doing?” I glared at him as I wiped my mouth, stepping back further
into the water and retreating into territory he would not enter due
to him being fully clothed.

“I told you I
would feed you myself, and I will, so I suggest you eat,” he said
firmly, displaying a slight smirk on his face and holding out some
more toast.

You
stubborn—overprotective—overbearing—sexy—domineering—son of a
bitch. If you want me to eat that then you will have to come in
here and do exactly what you threatened.
I turned my back to
him and went to wash my hair, and almost instantly he had me pinned
up against the wall, holding both my arms above my head with one of
his own. He had on a pair of suit pants and a shirt which were now
completely soaked.

“You will eat
your breakfast, my love,” he said with a calm, low and incredibly
sexy authoritative voice.

Squinting my
eyes at him, I opened my mouth to take a bite of the toast.
Luckily, his shower was in fact huge, and where he had me pinned
against the tiles was not directly in the stream of water.

I bit down on
the toast and quickly consumed it. “Let me go,” I mumbled.

“No. Not until
you have eaten the whole piece.”
I hate you right now, but you
are so fucking hot all clothed and wet, and the only thing I want
to eat is you.

I opened my
mouth for another bite, so he obliged by placing the remaining bit
of toast inside. He kept a firm grip on my hands while he pierced
me with his wanting eyes. I could see his desire for me and could
read him like a book, which was one of my favourite forms of
communication with him. I loved how we were both able to stare into
each other eyes and know what we felt, wanted and needed. Right now
he wanted me, and right now I wanted him. But I could be just as
stubborn, and until he promised to back off in relation to
exercising, I had no plans in giving in to his dick-tational
tease.

I opened my
mouth again, prompting him to lean forward.

“Do you want
this, Ms. Summers?” he whispered, as his lips delicately brushed
over mine.
Yes, fucking hell, yes.

“No,” I
breathed, not breaking our stare and letting him know that I was
now in control. “I want more food.” I licked my lips very
briefly.

His eye
twitched and he pressed his body harder against mine, then slowly,
he let go of my hands and dragged his fingers down my arms,
stopping and hovering them just over the top of my breasts. He
quickly slammed both his palms onto the tiles on either side of my
shoulders and pushed himself back from the wall, fire and lust
burning in his eyes.

Running his
hands through his hair and smoothing away the wet strands from his
face, he turned and walked over to the plate he had placed on the
basin. He picked up a piece of bacon and the cup of tea he had made
me then stepped back into the shower. Slowly, he made his way over
to where I was positioned with my hands still above my head, having
deliberately kept them there with the sole intent to force him to
feed me like he had threatened. He must have understood my
intention, because he placed the hand holding the bacon back to its
original spot, resuming his hold above my head.

Gently putting
the rim of the cup to my mouth, he tipped it slightly so that I
could drink my tea. Some of it spilled from the corner of my mouth,
dripping down my chin and onto my chest. He quickly moved forward
and licked the drip with his tongue as it fell to my breast. I
swallowed the remainder of my mouthful as his tongue sensitised my
nipple, forcing my eyes to close momentarily then open back up
again. He looked up at me with a satisfied grin then tilted the cup
again, continuing to lick, suck and pull with his lips and tongue.
I took in another mouthful, deliberately spilling some more from
the opposite side of my mouth, in an attempt to have him please my
other nipple equally. He smirked at my not-so-subtle trick and
moved across my chest to do what I wanted him to, tantalising me
with his hungry mind-blowing mouth, right up until I finished
drinking my cup of tea.
Best damn cup of tea EVER!

I continued to
bite my tongue, refusing to speak as he placed the empty cup in the
hand that held mine above my head—swapping it for the piece of
bacon he had picked up from my plate. He tormented my mouth with
the bacon, wiping it across my lips.

I stuck out my
tongue and tasted its saltiness, then bit down on it with a
stubborn scowl. He pushed his pelvis further into mine and kept
licking and kissing the edges of my mouth.

“I want more,”
I whispered. He groaned and kissed around my mouth with heightened
intensity. “No....more bacon,” I explained, trying not to smile and
raising my eyebrow at him.

He let go of
my hands and stepped back. “What else do you want?” he asked,
knowing I was not going to give in until he heard me out.