Alle Kapitel von Pregnant By My Ex's Brother : Kapitel 101 – Kapitel 110

The kiss broke whatever had been holding us apart and it stayed broken.Damien made a low sound into my mouth the second I opened for him, something closer to a groan than a breath, and then my back hit the counter and his thigh pushed between mine hard enough that I gasped. The sound seemed to set him off. His hands were under my shirt at once, hot and impatient, palms dragging up my bare waist, over my ribs, until he found my breasts and squeezed with a rough reverence that made my head tip back against the cupboard.“Fuck,” he muttered against my throat, already mouthing down the line of it. “You have no idea..”I pulled at his shirt until a button gave. “Then stop talking.”He laughed once, dark and shaky, and stripped the shirt off me in a motion that left my skin prickling in the cool air before his mouth closed over my nipple. The wet heat of it dragged a moan out of me that I felt more than heard. He answered with another groan, sucking harder, teeth grazing just enough to mak

The printed ultrasound images sat in a paper sleeve on my knees like they might burn through the fabric if I held them too long.Damien drove without turning on music. The city moved past the windows in ordinary blocks of glass and traffic, and every so often I caught him glancing down at the sleeve as if the sound from that room were still following us. Nine weeks. A heartbeat. The facts had landed with such blunt force that my body seemed to be lagging behind them, still arranged around panic while the world had quietly moved the problem into a different category.“I keep waiting to feel one clean thing,” I said.His hands flexed on the wheel. “What would clean look like.”“I don’t know. Joy. Horror. A decision. Instead it’s just this pressure in my chest and the memory of that sound.” I leaned my head back against the seat. “I meant what I said at the clinic before. About not wanting to carry a child through a mess. Hearing a heartbeat didn’t make the mess disappear.”“I know.”“D

The copy machine kept spitting paper behind me like the conversation were not happening at all.Victoria stood with her back near the door, not blocking it exactly, just occupying the exit with the casual confidence of someone who had never been asked to move for anyone less important than herself. Up close, her perfume was light and expensive. Her expression stayed pleasant enough that if someone walked in they might have thought we were coordinating a meeting.“I don’t know what you think is happening,” I said.“I think Damien has a pattern.” She tipped her head slightly. “Intensity. Tunnel vision. Then recalibration. You’re not the first disruption to look temporary from the outside. You’re only the most conspicuous.”Heat crawled up my neck. “If you have a point, make it.”“My point is that the building is watching him watch you, and it will not watch forever without consequence.” Her gaze flicked to my hands on the copier edge, then back to my face. “Alexander prefers continuity

He picked me up at seven like a man who had decided that punctuality might count as character evidence.I had changed three times and ended on a black dress that was neither trying too hard nor pretending I wasn’t aware of being seen. When I opened the door Damien looked at me for a long, unguarded second that did more to my pulse than a compliment would have. He was in a dark shirt, no tie, the kind of simple that still looked expensive because of who was wearing it. For a moment neither of us seemed sure how to begin an evening that was supposed to be ordinary.“You look…” He stopped, then gave a small, rough laugh at himself. “I’m going to sound stupid if I finish that.”“You sound stupid a lot lately,” I said, but I was already smiling, and the smile felt suspiciously close to nerves. “Where are we going?”“Somewhere with bad sight lines from the street and a kitchen that doesn’t rush.” He offered his hand, then let it fall when he second-guessed the gesture, which somehow made me

The discharge nurse spoke too brightly for the amount of paper she kept handing me.Forms for meds, forms for follow-up, a folded schedule of what my mother was allowed to lift, eat, attempt. Damien took the bag of prescriptions without asking, signed where a staff member needed a witness signature, and dealt with the wheelchair bureaucracy so efficiently that one of the orderlies assumed he was family and directed a question about ramps at him instead of me. Mother noticed. Of course she noticed. Even half-tired and thinner than she should have been, her eyes tracked the way people deferred to him, the way doors opened, the way the world rearranged itself around Damien Voss as if that were ordinary physics.“You didn’t have to come,” she told him in the car, polite to the point of steel.“I know,” Damien said.He drove like the road itself might jolt her if he allowed it. I sat in the back with the bag of bottles and blister packs in my lap, breathing carefully through a thin wave o