Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 215(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 215(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)
“Nope.” I pressed a kiss to her temple. “Especially not when it comes to you.”
She sighed, relaxing into my hold as we settled in for whatever the hell was about to come next.
The instructor clapped her hands with an overly cheerful enthusiasm, instantly commanding the attention of every expectant couple scattered across the room. Draped in a long, flowy cardigan in soft pastel shades, and speaking in a tranquil tone that suggested nothing had ever ruffled her composure, she was the very picture of Zen. I narrowed my eyes subtly, inherently distrustful of anyone who relaxed.
“Welcome, everyone,” she began warmly, her smile serene as she glanced around the group. “Tonight we’re going to practice breathing techniques and labor support positions.”
At her words, Poppy shifted subtly against my side, and I immediately sensed the tension slipping into her posture. I tightened my arm around her shoulders and brushed a soft kiss against her temple, inhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo.
“Baby, if they expect me to start doing yoga, we’re leaving,” I teased.
Her lips twitched, suppressing the laughter that sparkled in her beautiful hazel eyes. She tilted her face toward me, whispering softly, “You promised to behave.”
“I promised to try,” I corrected, my mouth quirking into a crooked smirk as she shook her head, amusement radiating off her. The moment between us was interrupted as the instructor continued, guiding everyone with soft commands about dilation, contractions, and some concerning mentions of “partner participation,” which made suspicion creep over my skin.
Moments later, she gestured toward us all, her voice annoyingly gentle. “Okay! Let’s have the partners move behind the mothers so you can support them through breathing exercises.”
I groaned inwardly but complied, shifting behind Poppy and settling myself onto the mat. The position naturally guided her back against my chest, my legs bracketing her hips, her warm body nestled perfectly against mine. My heart thumped a little faster when my arms came around her belly, anchoring her against me. Her hand moved automatically to rest atop mine, and a surge of possessiveness swept through me, tightening my grip just slightly.
“You comfortable?” I asked softly, brushing my thumb absently over the curve of her belly.
“Mm-hmm,” she murmured contentedly, relaxing further into my embrace, making my pulse quicken at her simple trust.
At the front of the room, the instructor demonstrated a slow, controlled breathing rhythm, her voice soft and melodic as she guided the class. “In through the nose…out through the mouth.”
Everyone began breathing in unison, making me feel more irritated than relaxed.
I lasted exactly eight seconds before Poppy’s shoulders began to subtly tremble, signaling her quiet laughter. My lips curved slightly in response, and I leaned in, my voice low and teasing against her ear. “If I breathe like that while you’re sitting in my lap, this class is about to turn into a very different kind of exercise.”
Her suppressed laugh turned into an adorable snort, drawing curious glances from a few nearby couples. Even the instructor shot us a polite smile edged with mild exasperation, clearly warning us to behave. I tightened my arm around Poppy’s waist, trying to keep a straight face.
“Let’s focus, everyone,” the instructor called out.
Poppy tilted her face back slightly, a sparkle of amusement in her eyes. Her hand patted mine softly, her voice gentle but playful. “Try.”
I released an exaggerated sigh, but I couldn’t deny her anything.
I murmured near her ear, “In through the nose.” She obediently inhaled, her breathing slow and measured. “Out through the mouth.”
Her warm breath ghosted over my arm, sending a ripple of desire through my veins.
She shifted again, unintentionally—or maybe very intentionally—brushing herself more firmly against my already growing erection. A sharp breath escaped me as I fought to keep my control, my fingers tightening instinctively against the soft curve of her belly. I froze when the baby kicked firmly against my palm.
My eyes widened, my entire world pausing in surprise as I looked down at where my hand rested.
“Holy shit,” I breathed, awe and shock thickening my voice.
Poppy’s soft laughter filled the air as she turned her face slightly toward mine, her voice a tender whisper. “That’s your son saying hello.”
“Our kid just kicked my hand.”
“He does that when he hears your voice.”
The instructor was now explaining something about contraction timing, but I wasn’t hearing a word of it. My gaze fixated on Poppy’s belly, wonder stirring deep within my chest as another tiny, determined kick pressed against my palm. My throat tightened unexpectedly, emotion gathering like a storm beneath my carefully guarded control.
“That’s…weird,” I muttered, my voice a rough rasp.
She hesitated, glancing back at me with sudden uncertainty. “Good weird or bad weird?”
I drew a slow, steadying breath, my hand still cradling the curve of her stomach. I pressed a lingering kiss to her temple. “Good weird, baby. Really good.”
The instructor clapped again, breaking the moment as she announced the next exercise. “Okay! Now we’ll practice pressure support during contractions.”