She automatically pulls her legs up when she gets flat. Her feet flat on the floor and knees bent and opening wide, I assume it’s the birthing position of women and not how she casually lounges around the house.

Her long dress is hanging to her ankles, and she is already panting again like an overheated dog. Another wave of panic hits me in the gut and I shuffle myself to her feet on my knees, shaking like a leaf and unsure how this is will go down. My eyes keep flicking to the hall, and every noise, making me pray for Jake.

For the love of all that is holy.

“You need to get them off, and my shoes.... If this is happening, then I want them off.” Emma frowns at me from her position, lifting her head up enough to see me over her knees, and I can see how badly she is clutching at the leg of a nearby chair. Squeezing the shit out of the chrome and I just thank my stars it’s not my hand. She could clearly crush every bone in my little dainty digits if she had a grip on me instead.

Taking a deep breath, I lift the hem of her skirt, push it up to her knees in a bid to see what I am doing, and lean in to try and get to the waistband of her surprisingly sexy black underwear, that looks decidedly non-maternal. I curb the urge to sit up and give her a raised brow look, chastising myself that she is married to Jake, and there is no way in hell she was ever going to dawn maternity wear and spandex, even when bulging like a whale.

I manage to locate the low waist, turning my head aside to make sure I do not get traumatized with a view of Emma that even brain bleaching can’t remove, and slide them down and off. Averting my eyes as I maneuver them over her ankles and throw them aside. Eyes down, unbuckling the straps on her flat sandals and definitely do not look up to see a full frontal of her lady parts. I seriously would never be able to look her in the eye ever again if I commit to memory this kind of intimate knowledge.

in the front door have me jerking my head up, sandal in hand and overjoyed to see Jake skating across the marble floor with an expression of sheer panic across

both heads snap my way. An extreme sense of relief that the cavalry has arrived, and Jake can take over, doing

as they both head my way, eyes fixed on the scene before them. I genuinely feel like kissing him

aggressive speed of a canon, sloshes me in the chest, neck, and stomach, in a horrifying avalanche moment that makes me gasp in absolute shock. Bath temperature warm, sticky, and slimy, weird smelling fluid, soaks through my dress, down my legs and saturates my entire upper body. My neck and face splattered with it and I

sat stone still with arms splayed out in sheer disbelief, blinking at her as though she just assaulted me

with her entire body of birthing fluids. The blood drains from me as Jake skids down behind me and slides me over, uncaring about the fact that

with a half-smile when he catches me throwing him a hostile glare of ‘don’t you fucking dare’. Arrick takes off like his ass is on fire and I shuffle backwards on my butt and palms, to give Jake

it’s not really going to wait on us getting a midwife. I mentally wonder if I should call emergency services, but my cell is way over there

her from his kneeling spot, he leans up and over her, caging her in his arms, working himself to hold his

on the forehead, lingering tenderly. Emma seems to give up all control to him, sighing and breathing slowly, watching him with a focus that is unbreakable. Jake really

her dress and shrugs down to look. Arrick reappears with an armful of towels, a boyish, unsure expression, and the

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