Falter Read Online Fiona Cole

Categories Genre: BDSM, Contemporary, Erotic Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 35740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 179(@200wpm)___ 143(@250wpm)___ 119(@300wpm)
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When he said his vows, he told me how much he loved my determination and strength.

If I wanted it, I got it.

Except now all I want is to have his baby. And for the first time ever, no matter how much I want it, no amount of strength and determination can make it happen.

With each negative test, my confidence waivers and I start to lose sight of who I am.

Each month, my doubt swells, creating a space between us.

Through it all, I know I’m his.

But will he still be mine when we falter?

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

Olivia

“I hate you,” I muttered to the stupid test lying in the stupid trash can with its stupid single line. “I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.”

The apartment door slammed shut just before my verbal abuse could turn physical. My mind scrambled to process the sound as I was the only one home, and Kent didn’t plan to return from his trip to Chicago for another couple of days.

Unless…

My heart jolted with a bolt of excitement.

Unless he was home early.

The clang of keys against the entryway table played like a favorite song I’d heard a million times and never tired of.

Kent was home.

I jumped from my perch on the edge of the tub and managed to shove a handful of tissues over the pregnancy test before running out. Over five years together, and I still raced to watch him round the corner from the foyer into the living room. I still melted at the sight of his body encased in his tailored suits, knowing each delicious hard bump and ridge underneath. My lips still ached to press so hard to his that his scruff marked my skin.

People judged when they saw us together. My youth obvious against his age showing in his salt and pepper hair and the lines around his eyes that hinted at years of laughter. But all I saw was the man that showed me what it meant to be alive. I saw a man with dark eyes brimming with excitement and more youth than anyone my age. He was perfect, and he was mine.

He turned chocolate eyes to my blue ones just in time to drop his bag and catch me in his arms. I wrapped my legs around his waist and buried my head in his neck. It’d been all of four days, but I missed him, and he’d shown up as if he knew I needed his arms around me right then.

Rough fingers dug into my long hair, fisting the strands to pull me back.

“Hey, beautiful.” His deep rumble contradicted the light that always sparked behind his dark eyes with every smile.

“Kent,” I practically sighed.

Then his lips were on mine, familiar, filthy, and new all at once. One of the things I loved most about my husband was his ability to make even the things we’d done a million times feel brand new. With him, I had no doubt that every kiss would be just as exciting and thrilling as the first.

He walked, backing us toward the dining room until he could rest me on the table. I lost myself, mentally plotting the best way to get us both naked, when he pulled back, brushing his thumb tenderly along my lips.

I basked under his gentle touch. As much as I loved having him inside me, I also loved the caress of his loving gaze on my skin—his stare so intense it grew to a physical burn, setting me on fire everywhere it touched. “I didn’t realize you were coming home.”

He huffed a laugh, one side of his mouth ticking up along with his brow. “I tried to call.”

“Oh, yeah,” I said with an apologetic smile.

“Let me guess, your phone was on silent?” he admonished without any heat. This wasn’t the first time we’d had the issue.

“And dead,” I added, leaving off the part about how I’d gotten distracted and forgot to plug it in after lunch. I’d rushed out of the office, skipping the usual café salad so I could run to the corner market and get a pregnancy test. I’d convinced myself that this time my breasts were sore because I was pregnant, not from another period. I’d been so anxious to get home and take the test that I’d lost track of everything else.

I held him tighter when my mind flashed to the negative test in the trash can, trying to ease the crushing weight around my heart.

“Sorry,” I whispered, nuzzling my nose against his.

“You can make it up to me later.”

“I promise,” I said, squeezing my thighs tight around his waist.

“Until then, how about dinner?”

“Shit. If I knew you were coming, I would have made something.”

His eyes narrowed.

I scoffed at his doubt. “Hey, I’m getting good at making pasta.”

“America’s next top pasta chef,” he teased with a wink. “Until then, I figured it would be safe to bring something home.”

“Oh, thank god,” I sighed.

He delivered one last quick kiss before walking back to where I first attacked him and picked up two brown bags with my favorite Italian restaurant’s logo. I’d been so distracted by him that I’d blocked out everything else, including the heavenly smell of garlic and pasta.

“Have I mentioned how much I love you?”

“Maybe a time or two, but you can never say it enough.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Just like the first time, heat bloomed on my cheeks, and my heart fluttered. I closed my eyes to live in the moment, taking my first deep breath in what felt like an eternity rather than since lunch.


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