Page 19 of Baby for Stepmom

I was late.

Jax had been hovering, running in after he’d heard my puking episode. Silently, he handed me a wet napkin. I wiped the grime off my face. Did Jax realize what this meant?

He kept on making all those comments about breeding me. How he couldn’t wait to see my belly swollen with his child.

It had turned me on… I’ll admit that he’d made me come harder than I ever had before in my life… but was any of it real? Was this just a bizarre kink of his? Was he going to freak out and make a run for it the second that sex came with real-life consequences?

Whether I had just fucked up my life, and potentially the life of my unborn child by letting my stepson knock me up out of wedlock… it had happened. Maybe Jax would accept it and want to take our… whatever we were doing seriously. Maybe he wouldn’t. Either way, this was something I had done. I’d make it work.

It didn’t matter. This was his kid too; he had to know.

I turned to look at his handsome face, his eyebrows furrowed with worry.

“Jax… I think I’m pregnant.”

SEVENTEEN

JAX

Delila hunched over the sink throwing up… the flash of realization on her lovely face… the words that echoed through my mind in a loop…

Jax, I think I’m pregnant.

Fuck yeah.

I did it—I thought I had; she was eight days late. Sweeping Delila into my arms, I pulled her close into a hug.

“That’s my girl,” I murmured into her ear. Triumph roared through my veins—I’d fucking done it. She was bred and bound to me, and now nothing was going to be able to take her away from me again. “But let’s go take a test. Find out for sure.”

Pulling her into my arms, bridal style, I stalked off with her. Delila shrieked in surprise, slapping at my arm playfully. I brought Delila into my room to use my private ensuite bathroom. I wanted to bring her into my bed to celebrate with her properly, but that would have to wait.

Tests first, celebration later.

After the bondage kit, the first thing I bought was pregnancy tests—the fancy ones that just said pregnant. Along with the types that were supposed to work five days early. I’d also gotten a handful of the cheap dollar-store ones, just to cover all my bases.

I set Delila down on the bathroom countertop with care, pulling out three tests for her to take.

Delila raised an eyebrow at the three different tests, but didn’t say a word as she hopped off the corner and began reading the directions on the boxes.

It wasn’t rocket science—they all said to pee on the stick.

Grabbing one test, Delila tried to shoo me out the door, but there was no way that I was going to miss this.

When Delila saw I wasn’t budging, she crossed her arms, staring at me in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”

“This is my baby, too.”

“No, Jax. I’m not peeing in front of you.”

I crossed my arms, mirroring her. “It isn’t anything I haven’t seen before.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I want to be here for you.”

Those were the magic words. Delila’s gaze softened as she gave in. She made a twirling gesture with her fingers, ordering me to turn around. I faced my bathroom door, listening to the sound of the zipper being drawn down and water tinkling.

Then a pause that seemed to stretch for way too long.