Pregnant Mistress Can't Get Away

7. STELLA

I wake up at exactly six in the morning.

I know that because I set the alarm myself.

Today’s my sister’s birthday, and nothing—and I mean nothing—can spoil my mood today.

Excited, I toss the sheets aside and get up.

Well, I try.

But I fail miserably.

I look down to see what’s wrong and almost groan when I see a familiar heavy hand wrapped around my waist.

God, how did I forget?

Sometime during the night—I’m not sure exactly when, considering I had been trying my best to appear tired and sleepy—Bastian let himself into the apartment and joined me in bed.

I thought that seeing me asleep, he would keep to himself and stop bothering me for another round of s*x. But when did this man ever consider the feelings of others?

Without warning, he snuck his hand under the sheets and started rubbing me and playing with my c**t. When I had no choice but to moan—because apparently, he wanted to know he’s f*****g a human and not a plastic doll—he took it as a sign that I was awake, rolled me over onto my stomach, and soon f****d me from behind.

Anyway, the point is, his hand is blocking my way, and I don’t know what to do. If I try to move it myself, there’s a great chance he’ll wake up, and because morning wood is still a thing and Bastian religiously believes in it, I might get caught up in another s*x marathon until one of us passes out.

Ugh. But I need to get ready and leave for the hospital. I can’t be late. Not today. I have so many arrangements to make, so many things to buy. I also need to pick up the special cake I ordered and the dresses I gave for fitting because cancer has done a number on my sister, and not even the XS fits her anymore.

I take a deep breath, trying to muster the courage to move his hand without waking him. With a gentle but firm grip, I lift his arm and slide out of bed. Success. I tiptoe to the bathroom and close the door quietly behind me.

As the hot water runs over me in the shower, I mentally go over the list of things I need to do today. The cake, the dresses, the decorations… it’s a lot, but I can handle it. I have to. For my sister.

After quickly drying off and getting dressed, I grab my phone and see a dozen missed calls from the bakery. Panic starts to set in, but I remind myself to stay calm. I call them back, and thankfully, they assure me everything is fine; they just wanted to confirm the pickup time.

I walk back to the bedroom to grab my purse and shoes when I notice Bastian slowly waking up out of the corner of my eye.

Dammit. I was hoping to leave before he got the chance to stop me. He always has questions, so many of them, and until I answer each one and satisfy him completely, he doesn’t let go.

I groan deep in my head and take a deep, deep breath. I tighten my fingers around my handbag, roll my shoulders, and come out of the walk-in closet with a damn bright smile on my face.

I think I overdo it because the moment his dark eyes fall on me, he frowns, hard. But I keep walking toward the door anyway. If I can slide out of bed without being questioned, I’ll make a run for it, I swear. And if he even shouts to call me back, I’ll just say he wasn’t loud enough for me to hear. It’s a perfect plan.

“Getting late for somewhere?” he asks as I reach the bedroom door.

Dammit. I knew that would happen.

I take a deep breath and turn on my good-girl smile again. All this pretending is probably going to make my jaw hurt one day, but until then, it has a slightly better chance of working than my usual snappy self, and I’m not going to take any chances.

I turn around and pull my shoulders back. “Ah, yes. Sister’s birthday. Have to go. Bye.”

I spin around and get out of there.

It takes me another five seconds to reach the front door of the apartment. But it only takes him one to come running out of the bedroom in only his briefs and stop me again.

“Stella!” he shouts and then comes to a halt before me, hands on hips. He looks ridiculous in nothing but black boxers, hair mussed up from sleep, eyes droopy, and cheeks slightly reddened, but I still smile as I turn around again.

“I need to go, Bastian,” I say as I take out the keycard and unlock the door.

He blocks it with a foot.

I take a deep breath, remind myself I am a nice girl, and look up at him with a sweet smile. “I really need to go, Bastian.”

“Yeah, but aren’t you forgetting something?” he raises one of those perfect eyebrows and gives me a look that says I’m the one being unreasonable right now.

I feel the corner of my eye twitch. I should have known something like this would happen. Every. f*****g. Time.

But it’s alright. It’s alright. It’s alright. It’s—

“Good morning, Bastian,” I grit through clenched teeth, the smile still plastered on my face. Then, I lift myself up on my tippy toes and aim to kiss him on the cheek. Well, at least, that’s the plan when he turns his face just in time, and I end up planting the kiss on his lips.

I want to die right then and there. Why did he do that? Why the f**k did he do that? But all my thoughts of murdering him with the heels in my hands fade away when he spins us around and slams my back against the door, pushing a leg between mine and moving his hips forward, trapping my lower half in a firm hold.

His hands travel down from my arms to my hips before slipping inside my loose top and squeezing my breasts in both his palms. I gasp in shock, but he doesn’t waste any time as his lips attack mine.

“B-Bastian! Wh-What are you—”

“Good morning to you too.”