Book 9 1/2 Weeks Novels & Stories

"Of course~ When have I ever broken a promise to you?" Adrian's eyes were completely focused on Claire—he couldn't hear what Zoey was saying at all. Only when he and Claire reached the door did he remember that Zoey had been speaking to him. He turned back. “What did you just say?" "Nothing." Relieved, Adrian turned and left with Claire. After the door closed, Zoey pulled out her phone and searched for flights abroad. Fortunately, there were seats available on international flights for the next month—no need to compete for tickets.

she said, leaning just a little closer, daring. "Careful," I murmured, letting my thumb trace her jawline. "Next step, and I might take that bridge you were worried about…" Her breath caught, eyes lighting up, lips parting just slightly. "Stop it," "How many days would it take to cross this bridge of yours, little peach?" I asked, letting my voice dip low. She tilted her head, lips parted in thought. "What I read in the human books… usually about three weeks. Dates, dinners… all that stuff," she nodded, trying to sound serious, but there was a spark in her eyes I could see.

I replied. He stood. "Then we start today." He left a card without a name on it, just a number. "When I have something, you'll receive it through a secure channel." "A week?" I ventured. Lawrence looked at me like time was a luxury. "Depends how much she exposes herself," he said. "But yes. A week is usually enough for the basics." He left. I stayed there for another five minutes without touching my coffee. The cup had already gone lukewarm, and I didn't have the nerve to reach for it again.

We pulled up inside the compound and I freed myself from the shackles of the accursed seat belt, putting myself in order before alighting from the car. I was getting registered at the moment. "So how many weeks sir?" The attendant asked. "Just one week." He responded. "Sir the minimum is four weeks." She informed me. " Simple, I'll be here for one week every month or depending on my schedule it could change." I responded, politely. " I guess we could work with that." She smiled too sweetly at Cas. " Thank you." She handed me the copy of my slip and a temporary membership I.D. *

“So about the operation, when do you need me to book it for you? I don't want to play with you and the babies so I need time to draft out another schedule for this purpose.” “I should be chanced next week Sunday,” I mouthed. “The company will go on a one-week break according to the monthly timetable for next month so I have more than enough time to heal,” I explained to the man who nodded, while he wrote down something on a notepad. “Do you think it'll work on a Sunday? That Sunday.”

Hathaway continued, “is that Moon had room. You carried her just over seven weeks. But with four—there won’t be space for them to reach even that. I’d say you’ll deliver in three and a half to four weeks. At most.” I felt the blood drain from my face. “Three weeks?” I said, stunned. “That’s practically tomorrow.” “I’ll be monitoring her daily from this point forward,” Hathaway added, placing the photos into a small envelope and handing it to Loria. “You’ll both need to prepare.” Loria didn’t respond. She was staring at the images in her hands like they’d just rewritten the laws of her reality. Maybe they had. Four pups. Three and a half weeks.

Hey guys, I have been really, really sick, so I will be taking a brief 7-14 day hiatus. I need to recover and make it so I can give you proper, top notch content. Enjoy all of book one though! Book 2 will resume after the hiatus! I love you all! Thanks for understanding!

Elena's POV Sixteen weeks arrived on a Sunday. I know this because I woke early, before Marco's building had started making its weekday sounds, and lay in the grey morning light of the guest room and counted forward from the date Dr. Patel had confirmed, the way I had been doing every week since the beginning, marking the passage of time in the only units that currently mattered. Sixteen weeks. Four months. Halfway to the point where, if the worst happened, the twins would have a chance outside my body.

"That's the starting point. We can adjust." "Twelve." "Chase." "I'm just repeating the number back so I'm sure I read it right." He sets the tablet down carefully, the same careful he's been doing for two weeks now. "Twelve days. Out of thirty. And that includes the one weekend a month you’ll be here and the one I’ll be able to visit you." "It's just a first draft." "You said that." "I'm saying it again because you're using a tone like I handed you an eviction notice."

Then her expression shifts. Just slightly. And immediately my stomach drops again. Because here comes the catch. “There is one complication.” Of course there is. “How complicated?” She winces. “Two weeks.” I frown. “Two weeks of what?” “Travel.” The word lands heavily between us. “Starting this weekend.” My chest tightens. “How much travel?” Another hesitation. Never a good sign. “I’ll be gone the full two weeks.” The room suddenly feels smaller. “What?” “Honey—”