by BJ Harvey
“Damn, baby mama,” I murmur into her neck, trying—and failing—to will my hard-on away. “I missed how you taste, but you getting bossy and pushing me down is still the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Hmm. I thought I might explode, and then there’d be no me and no peanut.” She hums sleepily. I smile against her throat, pressing a barely-there kiss on the hinge of her jaw. Her arms wrap around my back, holding me tight against her.
“Can’t have that. I kind of like you and peanut.”
A lazy smile appears on her face. “I’ll have to thank your sources,” she rasps.
I chuckle and lift my head to brush my lips against hers. Her tongue darts out to gently touch mine before I pull away. “They’ll already know by the way I dragged you out to the car.”
She snorts. “What about you? It’s your… turn…” she mumbles, but it’s soon followed by the soft sleepy snort of a woman gone.
I stay like that, my weight resting into the mattress, my head placed over her heart as I simply listen to the rhythmic beat of her heart that soon has my eyes growing heavy.
Little does she know I was never getting a turn tonight. This wasn’t about me getting off, and it’ll stay that way until Gilly knows I’m in this for her the woman, not just her as the mother of my child.
Inching away, I quickly stand beside the bed and contemplate a quick shower to relieve myself. One glance at the gorgeous sleeping woman in my bed and I decide against it and strip to my underwear before slipping back in beside her.
Pulling up the covers, I move behind a dead-to-the-world Gilly, my hand sliding over her hip to rest gently on her stomach where our baby grows.
What should terrify me—impending parenthood—is not even fazing me.
And what I shouldn’t be worried about—the status and future of whatever Gilly and I are now or will be—had me acting like a fool and missing the cues of what she really needs.
I need to do better—I must do better.
Because every day that passes, and the more time we spend as an us rather than what we were before, has me more certain that this was meant to be—it just took an oops pregnancy to make it happen.
For the first time in a long time, I’m thinking the universe might have actually got it right for once.
The right time, the right woman, the right everything.
Now I’ve just got to make sure it stays that way.
Gilly
Sunday mornings in Ezra’s bed have become somewhat of a tradition. We have had a standing date night on Saturdays—unless it’s a golf night—then a sleepover. It’s been three weeks of this, and I’m finding that boyfriend Ezra is just like bang-buddy Ezra, except he’s sooooo much better because I also get baby daddy Ezra as a bonus. But we’re still not having sex. I’m getting loving—really good too—but Ezra has not partaken in my lady business with his man business since I dropped the baby bomb eight weeks ago.
So, it’s a Sunday morning, three weeks after my sister and her husband decided to get me laid—so to speak—and I’m woke up by a long, slippery glide of a thumb over my clit.
Shaking my head from side to side on my pillow, I spread my legs wide and lift my hips up, Ezra hitting the right spot over and over again, every nerve ending in my body coming alive with the touch of his hand.
Then my clit is engulfed in a delicious wet warmth and I glide my hands down to grab the back of dream Ezra’s head and hold him in place.
When deep chuckles vibrate against my sensitive bud, my eyes drift open and look down to meet the blazing-hot eyes of real-life Ezra making himself at home between my thighs.
“Morning,” he mumbles, returning to the job of waking this horny pregnant woman in the best way possible.
One thing I quickly learned about Ezra is that he’s not a man to eat downtown just so she’ll repay the favor. He’s a man who loves to pleasure a woman and wring her dry, just like he’s doing right now. It’s not a chore he does before the big show; he lives for it, and by God have I missed it.
His fingers join the party again, stroking through the wetness before slowly pushing deep inside me and curving to find the spot that has my back arching off the bed. It’s like my body is a string orchestra, and he’s conducting the hell out of a symphony, building toward the climax. I swear on all things holy, if he wants to wake me up like this every day for the rest of his life…
This is yet another reason why his ex-wives are idiots.
“Baby…” I moan, my voice rough, my throat dry. The pleasure winds tight inside of me, every lash of his tongue and glide of his fingers driving me higher. I brace my feet on the mattress, pushing my legs wider, and roll my hips against him. His low, guttural groan against my skin has me catapulting head-first toward an orgasm.
I’m wound so tight, when his body starts jolting back and forth right along with mine, I close my eyes and picture his long, wide length as his tight fist viciously strokes it. I rub my hand over the back of his head, raking my nails over his scalp, earning a growl. When I flex my fingers and pull his hair tight, he turns rabid, and the taut coil buried deep inside me grows impossibly tight and with a final thrust of my hips up as his fingers go deep and his tongue curls around my clit, I detonate, my entire body tensing. I buck my hips and scream out a slew of absolute nonsense, the mother of all orgasms leaving me limp and listless, my energy all but gone. Although that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy Ezra’s low, hoarse growl as he climaxes right along with me.
There’s a gentle kiss to my inner thigh, and I open my eyes in time to see his gloriously naked back profile walking into the bathroom. After cleaning up, he walks into the room and puts a knee on the bed, wiping a warm facecloth between my legs, then throwing it to the floor and gliding up, stopping to kiss the tiny pot belly that appeared last week. He moves over me until his face is all I can see.
“Morning,” he says, with a sly ‘I got me some’ smile.
I loop my arms around his neck and draw him down for a slow, gratitude-filled kiss. “That’s definitely a nice way to wake up. I think I might keep you on.”
His grin turns wry. “Good to know.” He rolls onto his back on the bed, and I move with him, loving the way he hooks an arm around my shoulders and brings his hand to rest on my butt.
I prop myself up on an elbow to look at him. “Can I ask you something?”
He quirks a brow. “Sweetheart, I’ve just had my face between your legs. That gives you the right to anything you want without having to check if you can ask me first.”
I smirk. “Touché. Okay then. Why are you not jumping my bones?”
He frowns but doesn’t argue the point. If anything, there’s a flash of relief in his eyes. What’s up with that? “Total honesty?”
I nod. It’s what we promised when this baby inside of me linked us forever.
Whatever he’s about to say, I can take it. It’s Ez—it’s no secret he’s into me, and I’m into him. The future of how into each other we are is still up in the air, but Ezra not wanting to nail me into the mattress goes so against the grain that the question needs to be asked.
“Okay.” He rolls onto his side to face me, carefully moving around me, then pulling me in close so we’re both on the same pillow. “First thing’s first. Exactly how long have you wanted to ask me that?”
“Long enough…”
“You’re cute when you pout.”
“Cute enough to bang?”
“Definitely,” he says with a chuckle, his eyes crinkling. I lean in to kiss him, but he quickly presses his index finger against my lips. “But there is a very important reason why we’re not having sex right now. It’s not because of the baby—Jax and Bry gave me a talking to about that.”
My eyes bug out. Little birdie definitely tagged big birdie into the game, didn’t she?
“Can we pause this conversation just for a second so you can tell me how they had that chat with you? Because Jax can be very…”
“Graphic, animated, doesn’t b
eat around the bush?”
Giggling, I snort and shake my head. “All of the above.”
“That’s pretty much how it went.”
“And Bry?”
“He gave me the CliffsNotes version outlining the scientific evidence that a three-inch cock can’t possibly hurt a baby inside the womb.” I lose it now, turning my head into the pillow as I burst out laughing.
“I’m glad you like that one.”
“Bry’s funny.”
“Yeah.”
“And Jax said, ‘Get on in there, man,’” I say, sounding low and gruff like my brother-in-law.
His lips tip up. “It’s scary how well you do that.”
I wink at him. “I’m a woman of many talents, Mr. Baker.”
His eyes darken and drift to my mouth. “Oh, believe me, I know that.”
“So it’s not because you think your ‘more than three-inch’ penis is going to hurt the baby?”
“Okay,” he says, shaking his head. “No, it’s not that. But I’m glad you confirmed I’m more than enough for you.”
He takes a deep breath, and I rub his shoulder. “Real talk. When you told me you were pregnant, I freaked out and just reacted. That obviously didn’t go well, but by the end of that night, I knew I was going to be there for you and the baby, no matter what.”
“I never had any doubt about that, Ez. I just didn’t know what would happen past that.”
He nods. “What happened is I realized that we were living day-to-day, assuming that what we had would always have an expiration date. We’d never talked about seeing if there was more between us, and honestly, I didn’t want to rock the boat by bringing it up.”
Wow, he’s really putting it all out there, and I’m totally here for it.
“The baby kind of threw a giant spanner in the works, didn’t it?” I reply with a wry smile.
“No. The baby opened my eyes. I want a family. I want to raise children day-to-day, not every other weekend or by arrangement. More than that though, I wanted to see if what we had could turn into the more I’ve always wanted.”
“Because of the baby?”
“No, because of us.”
Happy tears sting my eyes, and his gentle gaze roams my face.
“I love that,” I say roughly. “But we’ve already slept together… many times.”
His lips quirk. “Yes, but I want the first time we do it as us to be meaningful, different…”
“Special.”
He smiles now. “Yeah, baby mama.”
I shift my face closer to his. “You’re pretty damn amazing, do you know that?”
“I’m glad you think that, but it’s because of you. I’ve been married before, and I know what I want, I know what I can offer a partner, and from how I’ve been treated in the past, I know the kind of woman I deserve. You are so far out of my league, and I haven’t once taken it for granted that you chose me.”
“Damn, Ez,” I breathe, letting my happy tears fall.
He closes the distance between us and touches his lips to mine. “I’m here for you, separate to being here for the baby. Whatever happens, nothing will ever change my commitment to our child, and the respect I have for you as my Baby’s mother, but also, I’m never going to stop working my ass off for you as my partner, as my friend, and as my family.”
“I really want to show naked gratitude right now,” I murmur against his lips, my heart swelling with warmth.
“Raincheck,” he says with a smile that transforms his entire face.
“You have the self-control of a saint,” I mutter.
He chuckles and moves in even closer. “Doesn’t mean we can’t make out tho—”
I slam my mouth into his and kiss the hell out of him.
After everything Ezra has given me, everything he gives me daily, I can give him this.
Ezra has waited a long time to get what he wants, and from everything he’s said, I’m his pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
Besides, I know how good the sex will be, so when we finally do get to that point again in our relationship, I can only imagine it will be absolutely mind-blowing.
After spending a few hours looking at baby stores and getting completely overwhelmed, I suggested we head back to my place to hang out.
I’ve felt a little off all afternoon. I didn’t mention it to Ez because we were having such a great day, and I didn’t want to ruin it.
After having a nap, I still don’t feel any better and decide I should say something. Then Ezra will tell me it’s okay and maybe I’ll feel better.
I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror, bracing an arm on the vanity. I cradle my barely-there-but-getting-bigger-every-day baby bump and close my eyes, saying a silent prayer that everything is—and will be—okay.
I walk down the hallway in a daze. My hands are shaking as I come to a stop in the kitchen doorway. Ezra’s back is to me, and I swallow hard, trying to stop my worst fear from choking me.
“Ez…” My voice breaks, and his stricken expression is everything.
“I’m not sure it’s a big thing.” Hiccup. “But there’s…” Hiccup. “I mean, I’ve been—” Sniff. “Cramping and I don’t… I mean, it’s been going on all afternoon and it feels… weird, and I’m worried.”
“Gilly,” he says, moving quickly to my side. He walks me into the living room and guides me over to the couch. Once I’m lying down, he perches himself on the edge of the coffee table and pulls out his phone. His other hand rests on my arm, his thumb sweeping gentle circles against my skin.
“Cade? Yeah. Sorry to disturb you, but Gilly says her stomach feels tight, like it’s cramping.”
He nods. “Mm-hmm… nope… Sixteen weeks… yeah.”
As I listen to him talk, I place my hands over my stomach, the closest I can get to my baby right now.
“Uh-huh. Yeah? You sure? That would be amazing, Cade. Yeah, we’ll meet you there in an hour. Thanks, man. See you then,” he says before ending the call, dropping his phone on the coffee table beside him and leaning forward, covering my hands with his. I can’t tear my eyes away from him.
“Cade is working a shift, and he’s said to come down and get checked out, just to be on the safe side. Okay?”
I nod, my throat tight. I blink rapidly as the dam breaks, and the tears come. Ezra’s gaze turns impossibly gentle as he leans down and brushes his lips against mine before pressing his forehead to my temple. “I’ve got you, baby mama. We’re going to make sure things are as they should be.”
“And if it’s not?” I whisper.
“I’ll do anything to look after you, Gilly. I’m not just with you because we made a baby. I’m here for you.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue.
I’m falling for you.
You’re an awesome human being.
You’re the man I would always choose.
“Let’s get you dressed, and we’ll hit the road. The sooner we can get you, and the baby checked out, the better we’ll both feel. Sound good?”
“Yeah,” I say, wrapping a hand around the back of his head and pulling his mouth to mine for a soft, meaningful kiss.
“I’ll be okay. I truly believe that, and if you’re not quite there yet, I’ll believe it enough for both of us.”
An hour later, Cade escorts us through the ER waiting room and into a consulting room with a bed and a portable ultrasound machine.
My heart races when I see it, knowing this could be one of the worst moments in my life. My fears are overwhelming; my mind jumping to horrible conclusions as a mode of protecting myself. Thinking the worst means things can only go up from here.
Cade gives me a comforting smile. He hands me a urine cup and points me to a bathroom. I do my business then come back out, handing the sample over to Cade who’s filling out paperwork on the desk. “Okay, Gilly. Ez tells me you’re under the same OB as Ronnie,” he says with a smile, “and it’s the same one Abi and I had for the twins and Harry, so I know you’re in good
hands. I’ll do a quick work-up, and then we’ll have a look at the newest Baker project on ultrasound. Sound good?”
“What do you think it might be?” Ez asks Cade.
The doctor looks straight at me. “It’s been a while since I’ve done obstetrics, but I’m leaning towards your body—and baby—telling you to take it easy. You had a big afternoon by all accounts. It could be your body adjusting as the baby grows or early Braxton Hicks contractions. Another possibility is that you’ve got an irritable uterus.”
I frown. “What’s that?”
“Some pregnant women have regular mild contractions that don’t produce any change in the cervix.”
“So, they’re okay to have?”
Cade’s eyes gentle. “With an irritable uterus, the contractions can be stronger and don’t always respond to rest and hydration. Your OB will just monitor you a little more closely, but while you might sometimes be uncomfortable and worry, the baby isn’t affected.”
I breathe a sigh of relief for the first time in what seems like forever.
Cade is all business as he takes my temperature, blood pressure, and pulse. He asks about the cramps and weird tightness I’ve been feeling and asks if I’m experiencing any other symptoms.
“Let’s get you up on the bed, and we can check how comfy your baby is in there. Okay?”
“Thank you,” I say quietly. Ezra helps me up, then holds my hand as we cross the room, and I lie down on the mattress.
I shimmy my yoga pants low on my hips and lift my hoodie and tank to just below my bra. Ezra takes a seat next to the bed and presses his lips to my knuckles. He’s so strong and calm; he’s exactly the rock I need when inside, I’m a neurotic mess.
“Breathe, baby mama,” he says quietly.
I turn my head on the pillow. “I’m trying.” My voice trembles. I close my eyes and try to settle my nerves. Inhale and exhale. Focusing on relaxing, knowing being this uptight isn’t doing anyone any favors—me or our baby.
“Gilly?” Cade asks. “It’s going to be okay. Just take a deep breath, and let’s see your baby, yeah?”
I nod and flip my hand over, lacing my fingers with Ezra’s.
