Spending the night with Axton is awkward. We have barely spoken since I stepped out of the shower. And I have kept my distance since. The bond is yearning for him and being locked in a room filled with his scent is making the bond nearly impossible to ignore. Yet Axton looks perfectly comfortable when he walks back into the room holding two plates.
The smell of steak reaches my nose, and my stomach growls loudly. Adding another embarrassing thing I can't control. “Hungry?” Axton chuckles.
“Yes, I’m still breastfeeding. Well, mix feeding, I’m always hungry.” I tell him, and he nods, setting the plate on my lap.
“Just because I’m technically taking them for the weekend doesn’t mean you can’t breastfeed them,” Axton says, while sitting down with his own dinner.
“Will you stay the whole
