Tate threw a pillow at him and stormed out of the room. Her face was bright red. Murphy checked her ass out as she walked out. She looked so fucking sexy. His cock hardened at the thought of her pregnant with his child. He’d love for her to have a boy and a girl. Murphy didn’t care which as long as they were healthy and looked like him and Tate. Hearing dishes and pans crashing about in the other room, Murphy followed her through to the kitchen. She was moving shit around. He’d seen her do this growing up when she had an argument with her father. “Tate, what are you doing?” he asked. Checking the time he saw it was a little after ten. If she didn’t be quiet the neighbors would complain, which would mean more shit for him. “I fucking hate you. I hope your dick falls off.” She charged toward him, poking him in the chest as she spoke. “No, I hope you get some disease that rots your dick off and you can’t have any sex, ever.”
