My Husband's Intimate Game Rules - Chapter 9: Chapter 9
You are reading My Husband's Intimate Game Rules, Chapter 9: Chapter 9. Read more chapters of My Husband's Intimate Game Rules.
Four months had slipped by like sand through fingers.
That morning after breakfast, Mason Reynolds flashed Lily Harrison a practiced smile. "Lily, go get dressed. Tiffany and I are taking you to the hospital for another prenatal checkup."
"Didn't we just go last week?" Lily frowned.
Mason's tone was smooth, calculated. "Last time, they couldn't confirm the baby's gender. This time, I'm paying extra to find out."
"Oh!" Lily's face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Perfect! It's definitely a boy." She practically skipped to the bedroom, hips swaying like she owned the world.
I watched, my expression icy. Mason's onto you, sweetheart. Too bad you're too blind to see it.
Meanwhile, Mason pulled Tiffany aside, his voice a low growl. "After the last appointment, I sent the samples to the paternity lab. Results should be in today. If it's mine, we keep it. If not… we end it."
Tiffany's lips curled into a razor-thin smile. "And if it's not yours? You really want to make a public spectacle? Let the whole world know you got played?"
Mason's jaw tightened, silence swallowing his reply.
"Here's a better idea," Tiffany hissed. "We get the pills. Handle it at home—quietly. Then we find out who the bastard father really is." Her nails dug into her palms. "Whoever dared to cross you… I want a name."
Mason gave a grim nod, his eyes flicking toward Lily's closed door.
When Lily emerged, dressed to impress, they left for the hospital. I stayed behind—mopping, scrubbing, playing the dutiful maid.
Honestly? I couldn't wait for the paternity bomb to drop.
By 11:30, Lily waltzed back in first, stroking her belly like it was a golden trophy. Turned out, she'd bribed the technician to confirm the baby was a boy. Mason had rewarded her with $100,000 on the spot, treating her like royalty.
Now, with cash in hand and her ego inflated, she was practically floating.
"Where are the others?" I asked.
"They told me to come home first. Said they had shopping to do."
Lily collapsed onto the couch with a dramatic sigh. "Diana, my legs are killing me. Come massage them."
I knelt, kneading her calves like a obedient servant.
Then she whined, "My toes itch." So I scratched them.
Her feet reeked of cheap perfume, the red polish chipped and toxic. Pregnant women shouldn't wear that crap, I thought. But who was going to tell her?
"Diana, stop scratching." She waved a lazy hand. "Use your teeth. Gently nibble my little toe." She leaned back, eyes fluttering shut, ready to savor the humiliation.
Oh hell no. I kept scratching with my fingers.
"I said use your teeth."
"How about no?" I stood.
SLAP! Lily lunged up, her palm cracking across my cheek. "You forget who's carrying Mason's heir?" She jabbed a finger in my face. "Bite. My. Toe."
The front door swung open.
Mason and Tiffany walked in.
That morning after breakfast, Mason Reynolds flashed Lily Harrison a practiced smile. "Lily, go get dressed. Tiffany and I are taking you to the hospital for another prenatal checkup."
"Didn't we just go last week?" Lily frowned.
Mason's tone was smooth, calculated. "Last time, they couldn't confirm the baby's gender. This time, I'm paying extra to find out."
"Oh!" Lily's face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Perfect! It's definitely a boy." She practically skipped to the bedroom, hips swaying like she owned the world.
I watched, my expression icy. Mason's onto you, sweetheart. Too bad you're too blind to see it.
Meanwhile, Mason pulled Tiffany aside, his voice a low growl. "After the last appointment, I sent the samples to the paternity lab. Results should be in today. If it's mine, we keep it. If not… we end it."
Tiffany's lips curled into a razor-thin smile. "And if it's not yours? You really want to make a public spectacle? Let the whole world know you got played?"
Mason's jaw tightened, silence swallowing his reply.
"Here's a better idea," Tiffany hissed. "We get the pills. Handle it at home—quietly. Then we find out who the bastard father really is." Her nails dug into her palms. "Whoever dared to cross you… I want a name."
Mason gave a grim nod, his eyes flicking toward Lily's closed door.
When Lily emerged, dressed to impress, they left for the hospital. I stayed behind—mopping, scrubbing, playing the dutiful maid.
Honestly? I couldn't wait for the paternity bomb to drop.
By 11:30, Lily waltzed back in first, stroking her belly like it was a golden trophy. Turned out, she'd bribed the technician to confirm the baby was a boy. Mason had rewarded her with $100,000 on the spot, treating her like royalty.
Now, with cash in hand and her ego inflated, she was practically floating.
"Where are the others?" I asked.
"They told me to come home first. Said they had shopping to do."
Lily collapsed onto the couch with a dramatic sigh. "Diana, my legs are killing me. Come massage them."
I knelt, kneading her calves like a obedient servant.
Then she whined, "My toes itch." So I scratched them.
Her feet reeked of cheap perfume, the red polish chipped and toxic. Pregnant women shouldn't wear that crap, I thought. But who was going to tell her?
"Diana, stop scratching." She waved a lazy hand. "Use your teeth. Gently nibble my little toe." She leaned back, eyes fluttering shut, ready to savor the humiliation.
Oh hell no. I kept scratching with my fingers.
"I said use your teeth."
"How about no?" I stood.
SLAP! Lily lunged up, her palm cracking across my cheek. "You forget who's carrying Mason's heir?" She jabbed a finger in my face. "Bite. My. Toe."
The front door swung open.
Mason and Tiffany walked in.
End of My Husband's Intimate Game Rules Chapter 9. Continue reading Chapter 10 or return to My Husband's Intimate Game Rules book page.