Sweet Possession
Page 18

 J. Daniels

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“What happened?” The sorrowed look he had moments ago has completely vanished, replaced with a look I’d never want to go up against. He seems to grow in size as he waits for me to recount my evening; that, or I’m suddenly cowering down. Could be a bit of both. “Dylan, do I need to call Brooke and ask her to tell me?”
I narrow my eyes at him and pout. “No. You don’t.” I exhale loudly, grabbing his hands and moving them to my breasts.
He frowns, looking at his hands. “What are you doing?”
“I’m using what I have to my advantage. You need to stay calm, and keeping your hands on my body is like a mild sedative for you.”
“Not for my cock,” he grunts. “And don’t try to distract me. I want to know right now what happened last night. Every fucking detail.”
I slide my hands to his wrists, lightly holding him. He doesn’t make an attempt to move, so I decide to continue. “None of us knew Bryce was at that club until we went to the bar. The bartender gave me a drink and told me Bryce had bought it for me, which really pissed me the hell off. I mean, really. The nerve of that asshole. Like I would ever accept a drink from him.”
“Dylan… focus.”
“Right. Sorry.” I clear my throat and think back to last night. “I went over to him with it and he opened his big stupid mouth, saying it’s been too long since he’s seen me and my dress belonged on his floor.” Reese clenches his teeth and tries to drop his hands but I keep them on me. “I threw my drink in his face and he acted like he liked it, which pissed me off even more. Then he said something about me having a temper and asked if I fuck you angry. Joey tried to step in but I told him to drop it. Juls cussed him out. Brooke did, too. We left right after that.”
Reese closes his eyes, keeping his hands on my breasts. I see his nostrils flare, and the veins in his neck become taut like tight coils. He takes five deep, calming breaths and I move my hands to his chest, flattening them out. His heart hammers against my palm as he slides his hands down and grips my hips tightly. “You should’ve slapped the shit out of him for saying that to you.”
I lift my gaze off his chest and see his eyes beaming at me. “Your eyes are so green right now.” I hold his face, studying the brightness. I’ve never seen anything like the color of Reese’s eyes. Close to emerald, but not quite. “And you’re right, I should’ve. But I couldn’t because he’s a little bitch who would either like it or call the cops on me. Bryce isn’t a man, and he’d never take a slap like one.”
“He won’t be taking a slap from me.”
And this is what I was worried about. “Reese, you can’t. What about the account? And if you hit him, he could have you arrested.”

He grabs my wrists, pulling my hands off his face. “I’m going to hurt him, Dylan. It’s going to happen.” He pauses, blinking heavily. “This shit better work,” he all but whispers, dropping his gaze away from mine.
“Please,” I beg through a strained voice, ignoring his last comment and only focusing on his threat. “Please, don’t do anything. Beating the shit out of him isn’t worth losing your job or going to jail over.” My lip begins to tremble and the tears come again. “Please, Reese. I can’t have anything happen to you.” We can’t have anything happen to you. I drop my head to his shoulder, feeling his arms wrap around me as I place a protective hand over my belly. Something would happen. This gut feeling I have isn’t going away.
“Shhh. I don’t want you to worry about this, okay? Dylan, I’m a smart guy. You need to trust me. I’m not going to do anything that’s going to get me put in jail. Hey, look at me.”
I keep my head down. “No. I’m ugly-crying right now.”
He laughs into my hair before forcing my head back, tucking my hair behind my ears. “You don’t ugly anything.” I see his eyes drop down to my stomach. My hand is still there and he places his on top of mine and studies it for several seconds. I hear my breathing quicken as his brows furrow. And then he looks back up at me, lips partying slightly, and I see it. The moment it hits him. His free hand cups my face. “Love, are you…”
I place a finger to his lips and smile. “I don’t know. I was thinking maybe I could be. It would explain why I got so sick this morning. Juls put the thought into my head. She thinks she’s pregnant, too.” He shifts me off his lap and gets to his feet, stepping into his shoes. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to the store to get you a test. You’re taking one tonight.”
I sit on my knees and stare up at him. “What? No, I’m not. I’m taking one with Juls. We made a pact.”
He glares at me. “Fuck that. I’m not going to be able to fall asleep tonight unless I know.” He places a kiss to the top of my head. “I’ll be back.” He goes to walk toward the door but halts mid-step. Turning around, he bends down and places a kiss to my belly.
I giggle. “Reese. You could just be kissing the pretzels I ate on the plane.”
He hits me with a wink before grabbing his keys off the counter and walking out the door.
14
“How many did you buy?” I hover my finger over the boxes Reese has just dumped onto the bed, counting them out. All my Bryce anxieties vanished the moment Reese assured me he’d be smart about things. And now the only thing I’m concerned with is how much money my fiancé just spent at the local drug store. “Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen? You bought seventeen pregnancy tests? These things are like twenty bucks a piece.”
He looks over at me curiously. “How the hell do you know?”
I wave him off. “Please. Every girl knows how much these things cost.” I pick up the one that has a smiling mother-to-be on the front. “Well, I guess this one looks good.” I take the box with me out of his bedroom and step into the hallway bath. Turning around, I see him at the door. “Um, what are you doing?”
He shakes his head, seemingly in a trance. “I don’t know. Should I come in with you?”
I scrunch up my face. “You want to watch me pee?”
“No, I guess not.”
I lean into him and kiss his cheek. “Relax. I’ll be out in a second.”
Closing the door behind me, I begin to open the box and hear a faint whooshing sound. I place my ear to the door. “Reese?”
“Yeah?” he answers immediately.
“Are you sitting outside the door?” I hear movement and smile, followed by a faint “no” in the distance a few seconds later. I pull out the instructions and read them over quickly, trying to calm the anxiousness building rapidly within me.
He’s pacing in front of the bed, hands raking through his hair and down his face in a continual pattern. He looks up just as I step into the room. “Well?”
“Three minutes.”
He sighs heavily, gripping the back of his neck with one hand. I sit on the edge of the bed and watch him burn a hole into the carpet. Back and forth, each step more purposeful than the last. His hair is a right mess and he’s chewing nervously on his bottom lip. I see his eyes routinely go to the clock on the nightstand. I’m not even taking note of the time. I know he’ll let me know when the three minutes are up. He glances once more at the clock and stops, turning toward me.