Smiling, I close my eyes. I’m digging how protective Olly is about me. “I’ll be fine. But I wouldn’t object to the handrail when you have the time. There’s no rush, though. I love the pear trees you planted. Hopefully I won’t kill them in the next three weeks.”
“Hey, we forgot to do your lotion.” He hops out of bed, turns on the bedside table lamp, and reaches for my baby belly moisturizer, which is supposed to help with stretch marks.
My eyes take a little jaunt up and down his smoking hot body. Olly’s golden brown from working in my yard. His shoulders are broader than ever, and his thighs are thick with muscle. He’s been working his ass off to get ready for football. I’m so proud of his determination.
And yes, I’m going to miss the off-the-charts sex we have, but I’m particularly blue when I think about not waking up in his arms.
I lift my tank top, and he straddles my legs. He usually just rubs some in, but tonight, he leans over me and starts whispering against my stomach. “Hey, fellas. It’s your dad.” His eyes meet mine, and I smile. He’s been ecstatic since he found out we’re having two boys. I run my fingers through his hair. “Your mama and I are so excited to meet you. I’ll be away at training camp for a few days, so I want y’all to be on your best behavior. No morning sickness, you hear me? Mama needs those calories so she can grow you big and strong. She’s gonna give me a full report when I get home.”
“Think they can hear us?”
He pops open the lotion, squirts some in his palm, and warms it in his hands. “Yeah, I do. I watched a whole documentary about it. I was gonna save this as a surprise, but I bought you a bunch of classical music and headphones to play for the boys. It’s supposed to build neuroconnectors or something.”
“I put the headphones on my belly?”
“Yup.”
You learn something new every day. “That’s really cool. Thank you.”
He rubs the lotion on me with the intense focus he has about everything. When he’s done, I sit up and strip off my tank top because if this is my last night with him for a week, I might as well make the most of it.
His eyes laser in on my boobs. He flings the lotion off the bed, and his hands go to his favorite part of my anatomy. “Jesus, you have great tits.”
He’s already hard against my hip, so I reach down and rub him through his boxer briefs. “Is it weird to say I love your cock? At first, it’s an intimidating size, but you have a way of wedging it in just right, and it always makes me see fireworks.”
“Feel free to talk about my dick anytime you want.”
I laugh and pull him down to me. His whiskers abrade my skin when we kiss, but I don’t care. He smells so good, like his shower gel and sexy man. I want to remember everything about him. How he smells. How he tastes. How he feels when he sinks deep into my body.
I keep telling myself nothing is going to change between us. That what we have is good and solid, but what if I’m wrong?
Everything might change when the season starts.
It doesn’t take us much to get hot and heavy, and before long, we strip out of the rest of our clothes. He settles between my thighs, and his hard length nudges against my entrance. Taking himself in hand, he swipes his head up and down through my wetness until I’m panting.
“Hard or soft tonight?” he asks.
I run my hand along the bristles on his cheek. “Surprise me.”
He responds by licking my bottom lip as he slowly sinks into me. “Clear your Sundays for the next three weeks. You have a standing appointment in this bed.”
Arching back to make room for him, I groan at how deep he goes. How thick he feels. How I don’t know where he ends and I begin. “I might have withdrawals in the meanwhile.”
He moves slowly at first. He’s a big guy—everywhere—so it takes a minute to get used to his size. But sweet Jesus, he feels good. I don’t know if this is a pregnancy thing, but all I have to do is think about him getting naked and everything south of the border starts to pound.
“Baby, you’re so wet already.”
“You turn me on.” I kiss him. “You’ve always turned me on.”
For some reason, that makes him stop. He looks down at me, his eyes a deep, dark blue. “Always? Even in high school?”
“Yes, you turd. Even in high school. When you dated all those other girls.” I pinch him, and he laughs. “Don’t remind me.”
His eyes go serious. “We have a lot of time to make up for, don’t we?”
I brush a strand of hair out of his eyes. “Yes. And you’re stuck with me now, so you’ll have plenty of opportunities to grovel at my feet.”
He laughs, which sends him deeper and makes me groan in delight.
