All Chapters of His Undercover Submissive: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

Ready for The Sniper's Good Girl Book 2?~Blurb~The good girl is keeping a secret? He’ll seduce it out of her until she begs to be his.Sniper Colt “Mile-shot” Whitaker nearly had everything he ever wanted, until a fateful mission stripped it all away. Now an outcast, he’s forced to watch the off-limits beauty who stole his heart slip through his fingers. Left with nothing but revenge, he’s determined to defeat evil and win her back. But when he learns she’s planning a future without him, he vows he’ll break every rule and defy all odds to make her his again…forever.Emma Grant was always a good girl… until Colt Whitaker. Despite everyone’s warnings, she gave the rough warrior her body – and her heart. When she receives news that shatters her world, he devastates her by walking away. Terrified of losing all she’s ever known, Emma tucks away her dreams and commits to a “safe” future. Then Colt appears in the dead of night, challenging and seducing her. Emma isn’t sure she can trust

~Emma~Monday, November 3I walk out of the doctor’s office at the clinic in Lafayette, feeling numb and stunned. My life will never be the same.Sawyer rises to his feet in the empty waiting room and stares. But his grim face tells me he expects my next words.“I’m pregnant.” My whisper turns to a sob.With a soft curse, he pulls me into his arms, stroking a big, comforting hand down my back. “Em-bee…”I sink against him and cling for comfort.Except his two tours in Afghanistan, Sawyer has been there for me since the day I was born. I have pictures of him, a gangly eight-year-old boy, holding me as an infant. I grew up next door to him. Though he relocated to nearby Lafayette after returning from the Middle East, I see him all the time. We speak most every day. He has been my staple, my rock…and sometimes, my shield from the real world.He can’t shield me from this reality, but I’ve never been more thankful for him than I am now.“It’s all right.” He pulls back and cups my

~Emma~Friday, November 14I grip the toilet and retch again. Blasted morning sickness. I’m nearly in week fifteen of my pregnancy. When the devil will it end?This morning, I’ve turned on my music in the bathroom, hoping it will disguise the sounds of my sickness, but Daddy is likely awake. What if he can hear me? How many more well-meaning lies will I have to tell him to keep my secret?It is already too many.After rising weakly from the floor, I flush the toilet, wash my hands, and rinse my mouth. The nausea isn’t done with me yet; I know that from experience. But after so much upheaval, my body feels weak.I stumble back to bed and grab my phone off my nightstand along the way. Five forty a.m.Tears stab at my eyes. It has been nearly two weeks since I’ve seen Colt. I so badly want to call him, hear his gruff voice, confess how much I miss him. Tell him I still love him. In my fantasy, he will say he loves me, too. Then I will confess we are having a baby, and he will be s

~Emma~It is just shy of five thirty in the afternoon when I hear a familiar male voice around the partition dividing the salon from the reception area. Over the whine of the blow dryer in my hand, I freeze.It can’t be…“My mother-in-law is driving in from San Antonio for Thanksgiving dinner,” huffs the newly minted Mrs. Gale. “Michael says his mother is coming to help since I’ve never cooked a turkey on my own, but she stuck her fingers in our wedding every which way until I hardly recognized the ceremony I’d wanted. Of course she’s going to try to run all over me in my new kitchen.”“Uh-huh.” Normally, I would find a diplomatic way to point out to the newcomer from Beaumont that Michael Gale has been a mama’s boy most of his life and that isn’t likely to change. Instead, I find myself trying to hear the low exchange on the other side of the privacy wall.There is the rumble of male again, a voice with just the right depth and the perfect amount of gravel. I tense. It can’t be

~Emma~As I plaster on a false smile for Mr. Davidson and schedule his two-week follow-up so he can maintain his precise banker’s cut, I sense Rayleigh hovering nearby. The woman has swept and cleaned every surface in the salon, despite the fact a crew comes in overnight to do that, and her last customer has left hours ago. I can guess why.My boss wants the scoop.Exhaustion tugs at me. As my pregnancy progresses, heartburn is beginning to replace nausea. It especially gives me fits at night. Sleep doesn’t always come.But that’s not what has me on the brink of stupid tears now. Life as I’ve always known it is tumbling down around me like a house of cards. Until lately, I haven’t realized how often or deftly Sawyer or my father stepped in to bear the brunt of my difficulties before I even realized they were doing it. Long before I ever asked for their help.But now Sawyer is gone, and I’m not ready to confide in my father. So my problems are mine alone. Despite feeling overwhelm