Chapter Eighty-Six

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    Aubrey stood at the bathroom sink brushing his teeth while eyeing his reflection. Somehow, he'd managed to fuck Destiny's brains out without releasing. It hadn't been easy. His fiance's pussy was constantly on agua, wet and tight as hell for absolutely no reason. He fit inside her like a glove, and she was always perfectly slippery. The lusty look in her eyes was also always the undoing of him, and the sexy way she always bit her bottom lip. And seeing her dominate him was quite possibly the sexiest thing he'd ever had the pleasure of witnessing.

    After brushing his teeth, he opened the medicine cabinet and withdrew a small, orange-tinted medicine bottle. Unscrewing the cap, he listened to Destiny typing away on her laptop in the bedroom. Two tiny pills, swig of water, and his post-traumatic stress from the whole Palmer kidnapping fiasco was a distant memory.

    Only...every time he looked at the bottle, he was reminded of just how fleeting life could be, was reminded that the next moment in life was never promised.

    Destiny started humming to herself while typing.

    He smiled, downed the pills, and placed the prescription meds back into the medicine cabinet.

    The humming stopped abruptly, and so did the typing. Then there were the sounds of stomping footsteps.

    A blur of color dashed into the bathroom, nearly colliding with Aubrey on the way.

    With his eyes wide, he whirled around and stared at Destiny, who dropped to the tiled floor. She flipped up the toilet seat without hesitation and clung to the bowl while her stomach emptied itself into crystalline white toilet water.

    Concerned, Aubrey went over to her and placed a hand on her back. "Destiny."

    Even after throwing up, she continued clinging to the toilet, staring into space.

    "Des?" he asked again, rubbing her back and kneeling beside her.

    She was whispering something under her breath, something that was just too low to be considered audible.

    He leaned in closer, trying to make out what she was saying. "Des? Are you okay? What is it?"

    Her lips continued moving, even as she turned her head and looked at him. There was something about looking at her while hearing her mumbled words, that allowed him to determine what she was saying. "I'm late. I'm late. I'm late."

    His eyes lowered from her face to the stomach that she was now clutching, and the words finally registered to him. He finally made sense of them.

    "I'm...I'm late," she whispered, her eyes welling up with tears. He couldn't tell if they were happy tears or the other kind, but she launched herself into his arms and threw her arms around his neck.

    He wrapped his arms around her, feeling even more afraid than she looked.

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