Fulfillment

by Golland, K. M.

  FULFILLMENT

  BY K.M. GOLLAND

  Book 3 in The Temptation Series

  Cover Design by: Wade Angelo,

  Pauze - Design and Multimedia

  Copyright 2013

  Published by K. M. Golland at Smashwords.com

  ISBN: 9780987497710

  All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic format without permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. All characters and storylines are the property of the author and your support and respect is appreciated. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Except the original material written by the author, all songs, song titles and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  EPILOGUE

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  AUTHOR BIO

  PROGLOGUE

  Bryce

  I’ve always had goals to strive toward in life. Goals, that with hard work and initiative were still achievable regardless of how remarkably high they were set. But damn, it was amazing how quickly your lifelong goals, aspirations, and priorities could change when faced with new information—information that had the capacity to blow all plans you previously had right out of the water. In my case, all it took was the news I was about to become someone’s father.

  The night before, when Alexis had confirmed she was carrying our baby, everything I had previously been working for my entire life seemed meaningless in comparison to what my life held next. Leading up to that moment, I had been hell bent on expanding and building my family’s legacy—as a kind of tribute to my father. Now, I didn’t only see it as a tribute to him, but also something I could pass on to my family, and this new revelation excited the fuck out of me.

  ***

  As always, when I stare at Alexis’ naked back lying before me, she fucking takes my breath away and even more so now that she is carrying our baby.

  I gently trace my finger down her back, careful not to wake her as she needs her sleep. She had gotten up three times during the night to piss. Three times! I can’t figure out how a person can possibly piss so much. Although, I did have to chuckle to myself last night when the bed dipped for the second time, waking me, and I heard her curse to herself, and I quote, ‘pathetic bladder, you need to harden the fuck up.’ Shit, she makes me laugh. My heart literally hurts at how much I love and adore her, to the point where I think she somehow has some form of supernatural hold on it, controlling whether it beats or not.

  The moment Alexis confirmed that she had feelings for me, I knew that I would do absolutely anything for her, and ever since, I have made it so that my world revolves around the very spot on which she stands—and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  She is just everything I have ever wanted: beautiful, kind, smart, funny, nurturing and feisty—my favourite part of the day being when she challenges me. Of course, I know that I will always win, because that is just something I cannot and will not change—she doesn’t know that though.

  God, just thinking about her—let alone being in her presence—makes me so bloody happy that my cheeks ache. I’m even sitting here right now, staring at her and grinning like the fucking Cheshire Cat. I should be ashamed of myself. Sometimes I think I need a good reminder, telling me to man-up and stop acting like a fucking love-sick teenager. After all, I am 36 years of age and have a fucking decent set of balls between my legs.

  ***

  When Alexis confirmed that she was pregnant, I couldn’t say that I was shocked. In fact, to be brutally honest, I had hoped she wasn’t on birth control in the first place. It wasn’t something I had ever discussed with her for a reason. Why?—because I hadn’t really given a shit. She was the woman of my dreams, and I had fallen in love with her from the word go, so the idea of her possibly falling pregnant with my child was...well...fucking great!

  Now I know that sounds completely fucked up and bordering on evil, because on paper she was still married and, she already had two wonderful children of her own. But I make no excuse for getting the things I want in life, and I certainly make no excuse for how I go about getting them.

  I made myself a promise the day my parents and brother died, the very day my life was ripped out from underneath me. I decided I would take care of the ones I loved, and instead of wallowing in self-pity asking ‘why the fuck me?’ I would make it my lifelong ambition to get what I wanted. After all, I fucking deserved it.

  I’ve never been one to say that life will hand you what you want on a silver platter or that fate will bring you what you deserve. No, I’ve always said life is what you make of it. That you rule how your existence in this world plays out; that no one else controls the decisions you choose to make. When you think about it, it’s quite simple really. The direction in which you head is determined by your own conscious decision to go there, and no one can take that away from you.

  I wanted Alexis. I’d never wanted anyone or anything more in my life. So I knew I would do whatever it took to have her, regardless of what or who I had to overcome. Yes, it was selfish and callous, but I didn’t care. I knew only too well that life was too fucking short to spend it wasting time accepting the second rate dividends we are all handed out.

  Essentially, life is what you make it, and I have one more thing I need to accomplish in order to make mine the best it could possibly be. I want to marry Alexis, make her my wife, and make her the happiest woman on earth. I want to wake up next to her every day, because fuck, she makes me the happiest man alive. So, as soon as I get the green light to do so, Alexis will become my wife.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Your body while incubating a baby is capable of many amazing, miraculous, and...well...let’s just say interesting things. Not only does it transform into a protective cocoon, shielding your little unborn progeny from the outside world, it also experiences some bat-shit crazy adjustments in the process—both physically and mentally.

  My body had been experiencing these things in the two weeks it has been since Janette—the City Precinct Nurse—visited the apartment to check me over after being sick.

  I remember the moment when she pulled the test strip out of the cup which held my hormone-affected urine and feeling as if she’d opened her mouth and said in a low, deep, slow-motion voice...‘You’re pregnant, Alexis’.

  At first, I hadn’t known what to think—apart from being incre
dibly shocked. But, as the disbelief wore away, I found myself to be so angry at my own stupidity for forgetting to take my contraceptive pill in the first place. Yes, I had been a little preoccupied and distracted by the crazy turn of events my life had taken during the time in which my husband had confessed to having an affair. But I had taken my birth control pill on and off for half of my life, so to easily forget it like I had was completely careless.

  I was having another baby, and it was not something I had planned, nor had it even been in my foreseeable future because, let’s face it, my life had recently been turned upside-down. I had just left a marriage of 12 years after finding out my husband had cheated on me—then he hadn’t cheated on me—then he had cheated on me. And, on top of his infidelity, I had also found out that he’d spawned his own offspring with the cheating bitch.

  If that wasn’t reason enough to feel that carrying a baby in my retired womb was not such a great idea, then surely the fact that I had recently fallen deeply in love with my new employer was.

  Bryce Edward Clark had pursued me tirelessly while I thought I was happily married. He had also taken it upon himself to go behind my back—in the form of an indecent proposal—and offer my husband an obscene amount of money to—in my words—‘pimp me out’.

  So, was gestating, birthing and mothering another little human being at the age of 35 something I had planned? Hell no! Remarkably though, pregnancy hormones had a sneaky way of altering your thought pattern, and it was these hormones, together with constantly seeing the joy and elation Bryce displayed every time he looked at me, that had somewhat changed my mind.

  If I had thought my Mr. Love-Smitten Clark had been absolutely and undoubtedly in love with me before carrying his child, then I was wrong. Because the way in which he looked at me now, and the way he had been acting around me for the past two weeks, was nothing shy of full-blown adoration and worship.

  He kissed and touched my belly every chance that he got. He rubbed my back during the morning, and sometimes, noon and night sickness sessions. And, he delighted in cooking fresh, organic meals for me. He was just amazing and attentive, and I was so lucky to have him.

  The thing is, with all the beautiful, loving and sentimental gestures, came many annoying and aggravating ones too, like demanding I let him give me a foot rub nightly—which I was still dead against. He also practically carried me around everywhere within the apartment—which was getting beyond the joke. And, he had been sparse with the ‘I need to be inside of yous’—because apparently, ‘having sex may be dangerous’. Dangerous!...Ha, I will be the one who is classified as dangerous if my Mr. Overprotective Clark does not have sex with me within the hour. Lucky for me, this was a foregone conclusion due to the fact that we were sitting together in the waiting room of my obstetrician’s office. You see, I had every intention in asking her to kindly inform Bryce that hot, loving, penetrative sex during pregnancy was not only safe, but essential in keeping the mother stress free and happy.

  “Do you need some water?” Bryce asked while draping his arm over my shoulder and placing the other on my lap.

  “No, I’m fine.” I squeezed his hand with my own as I read an article slandering Princess Kate for being too brazen in her choice of sunbathing attire. I mean really, give the poor woman a break. Stupid paparazzi. Get out of the bush you’re hiding in and get a life. Grrr, they annoy me.

  Certain things had really upset and annoyed me lately, and I mean REALLY upset and annoyed me. Things I wouldn’t normally blink at, like privacy-invading paparazzi for one. But, there were other things, like road-kill, and Stephanie dying on ‘The Bold and The Beautiful’ which had me turned into a blubbering mess.

  “Do you need anything at all?” he asked again. Apart from your long, glorious love-wand to enter my abandoned, yet eagerly expecting pleasure-tunnel? No...No, I don’t.

  My frustration turned to a smug inner smile as I thought of something I did need. “On second thought...yes.” I replied.

  He looked ready to be put to task and perform his fatherly duties and requirements. “What, Hunny?”

  I lowered my voice. “I want to fuck you in that bathroom over there.”

  Without taking my eyesight from the magazine, I pointed to the door with a picture of a little man and woman on it. I had spotted the toilet the moment I walked in—my toilet radar currently being on high alert.

  “Alexis, we’ve spoken about this. I’m not making love to you until the doctor has performed the ultrasound and given us the all clear.” He clenched his fist and released it as it sat upon my shoulder.

  “Bryce.” I kept my voice calm but sarcastically sweet. “I know we’ve spoken about this, and again I will tell you it’s perfectly safe to make love to me.” I didn’t look at him as I spoke and kept scanning the magazine I had rested on my lap. “Don’t get me wrong, I love your tongue and all the mind-blowing things you do with it, but I need to feel your cock inside me, and I need to feel it now.” I dramatically flipped the page in my magazine. Seriously, what the fuck? There was a full-page advertisement for KY Lubrication Gel with a picture of a naked man and woman gloriously tangled around one another—I was totally jealous.

  I dropped my hand to Bryce’s lap and slowly moved it up his leg without raising my eyes from the pornographic picture in front of me.

  He groaned and stopped its wandering with his own.

  “You’re fucking killing me,” I whispered as I snatched my hand back. “I need sex, and I need it now!”

  He smirked. “It’s your hormones, my love.”

  “Hormones-Shmormones. I don’t care what it is.” I casually placed the magazine back on top of the coffee table and leaned over him so that my fuller than usual breasts brushed his arm. Then, pressing my mouth to his ear, I whispered again, “Listen here. Your long, hard, delicious cock will be in between my legs within the hour. I guarantee it!” I discreetly bit down on his ear lobe then pulled back and eyed him intently.

  “Ms. Summers,” Dr. Rainer called from the doorway of her office.

  I removed my hungry stare from Bryce, stood up and smiled sweetly at my doctor.

  Bryce sat there for the smallest of moments then eventually rose from his seat and relaxed his fist again.

  ***

  We sat down in front of a large, hardwood desk in Dr. Rainer’s office. She had been my obstetrician during both my pregnancies with Nate and Charlotte, and when I booked my appointment to see her, I had to explain my current ‘situation’, that Rick and I were no longer together and that my new partner Bryce was the father of my baby.

  “Hello, Alexis. It’s been a long time,” she flicked through my file, “six years in fact,” she finished.

  “Yes, it has.” I replied.

  She held out her hand for Bryce to shake. “And you must be Bryce, the father.”

  He obliged and gave her an enormous grin. “Yes, that would be me,” he answered confidently, but shifting in his seat just a little.

  He had been fidgety all morning and also more attentive than usual. Don’t get me wrong, I love his devotion and thoughtfulness, but he had a tendency to go just a tad overboard.

  Dr. Rainer motioned toward the single stretcher bed. “Okay, Alexis, hop up onto the bed, and we’ll have a look at your baby.”

  Bryce shot up out of his seat and helped me as if I were his elderly grandmother. Grrr, he is so adorably aggravating at times. I desperately wanted to roll my eyes at him and refuse his over-the-top assistance, but allowing him to fuss over me like this seemed to calm his nerves. So I let him and swallowed the need to chastise him over it.

  Bryce walked me over to the black vinyl-covered stretcher where I laid myself down, while Dr. Rainer washed her hands at the basin. She dried them with a paper towel then sat down on a swivel-chair and made herself comfortable. Bryce moved around to the other side of the stretcher to take hold of my hand.

  “You all right there?” I asked with a slight smile.

  “Couldn’t be better, my lo
ve,” he smiled back.

  I was abruptly pulled away from my loving gaze into Bryce’s eyes when Dr. Rainer grabbed the bottle of gel and squirted it onto my lower abdomen. Geezus! That shit is always freakin’ cold. Can’t they at least microwave it for a few seconds, surely that’s not too much to ask? No matter how many times I had experienced the application of that bloody gel, I never once remembered to mentally prepare myself for its cold shock. Grudgingly, I adjusted to the sudden temperature change on the surface of my skin.

  Dr. Rainer switched on the monitor and moved the ultrasound wand over my tummy, prompting Bryce and I both to simultaneously move our heads a little closer to the screen while squinting.

  Okay, let’s be honest, I’ve never really been able to distinguish what was what during an ultrasound. All I could ever make out was grey, black and white swirling patches, and trying to distinguish what was supposed to look like a jelly bean with a large head was pretty much impossible for me. So, when the image appeared on the screen, I made more of an effort to watch Bryce’s reaction rather than try and figure out my baby’s head from its bottom. As long as I heard that wonderful, amazing, ticking noise that was Baby Clark’s heartbeat, I was going to be more than happy.

  Almost instantly, Dr. Rainer started calculating our baby’s measurements on the monitor. I squeezed Bryce’s hand as he stared intently at the screen. He looked down at my hand then up to my face, so I gave him a knowing wink which prompted him to raise my hand to his mouth where he placed a soft kiss.

  “Okay. Your baby measures 1.7cm, which would put baby at 8.1 weeks gestation.”

  “1.7cm?” Bryce asked in confusion as he spread his thumb and index finger apart.

  “Yes. At this stage in the pregnancy, your baby also has two arms, two legs and eyelids,” Dr. Rainer replied.

  “1.7cm?” Bryce repeated a little louder, still looking confused.