You're Waffle-Y Cute

by Love, Frankie

  “Yeah?”

  I smile, looking down at the man of my dreams. “Your cock looks like the tastiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  Chapter Six

  Billy

  Bailey falls asleep in my arms, but it’s hard for me to drift off. I keep thinking about my future — our future — and how I can be the man she needs.

  But then she murmurs against me, her naked body so warm in my arms, and my fears of the unknown fade away. With her in my arms, it seems like anything is possible.

  She rolls toward me, opening her legs, her eyes sleepy but open, the sweetest smile on her face.

  “I was dreaming about you,” she murmurs in my ear, straddling me, my cock rock-hard and her sweet pussy wet with want.

  “Good dreams, I hope?”

  “Dirty dreams,” she whimpers, lifting her creamy ass as I ease my thick cock into her juicy hole.

  “Lucky me,” I groan as I fill her up nice and good, the way we both so dearly need. She leans down, her full tits in my face, and I kiss them, fucking her the way she needs. God, I’m a lucky bastard to have this princess in my bed, in my arms, sitting on my cock like it’s her throne.

  She rocks her hips, her hands press to my chest and I fuck her nice and slow, the way my girl needs. Her tits look so fucking good as I take her and she takes me, and damn, we’re lost. In a daydream, a fantasy, a goddamn dream come true. I come fast, hot and thick, and so does she, her sweet slit dripping as she gets off on my thick rod.

  “Oh God, yes,” she moans loudly as she finishes before collapsing in my arms.

  This time, we both fall asleep. Bodies entwined, her cunt wet and my cock hard and our future the only thing we dream about. Because this girl is mine, and I am hers, and the rest of the world is going to have to get used to that fact real damn fast.

  * * *

  The smell of coffee wakes me, and I sit up in bed, my bathroom door ajar. I see a naked Bailey drying her hands, and our eyes meet in the mirror.

  “You made coffee?” she asks. “In the five seconds I was in there?”

  I shake my head. “No… I…” I look out my bedroom window and see my dad’s car parked right next to the Corvette. “It’s my dad.”

  “Oh crap,” Bailey says, looking for her clothes. But her suitcase is downstairs.

  I step toward her. “Shhh, it’s okay — we’re okay.”

  “But your dad… and I’m here… and…” She shakes her head, anxious.

  “And you’re my girl. We’re both adults. It’s gonna be okay, baby. I promise.”

  I give her a pair of my boxers and a large sweatshirt, and I pull on sweats. “This is a serious walk of shame,” she says.

  “Nothing to be ashamed of, Bailey,” I tell her. But I admit as I walk down the stairs to the kitchen that I’m wondering what my Dad might really think.

  As I round the corner, he folds his newspaper. “Coffee?” he asks, and I nod, stepping aside so he can see Bailey.

  “Sounds good, but I, uh, want you to meet someone.” I clear my throat. “This is Bailey, Dad — the girl I’m going to marry.”

  Dad nearly spits out his coffee, and Bailey gasps, covering her mouth.

  “I told you I was serious, Dad. And nothing has changed.”

  Bailey looks dumbstruck. “Billy, really? You… I mean what are you…” She shakes her head.

  “I love you, B. Nothing will change that. I’m making you my wife.”

  “Does she get a say in this?” Dad asks, standing now.

  “Of course,” I say. “But I just wanted you to know my intentions with her. I’ve never brought a girl home before—”

  “For the night, I might add,” Dad says, refilling his coffee, seeming confused about what to say. He pours coffee for Bailey, pulls a chair out for her. “Take a seat, sweetheart,” he says. “Let me get to know the erosion my son has lost his mind over.”

  Bailey sits, biting her bottom lip, and I pour myself coffee, seeing as my dad is focused on other things.

  “I’m sorry if we overstepped,” Bailey says. “I don’t want to offend you. But I’ve got to say, Mr. Barton, you’ve raised an amazing son.”

  My dad clears his throat, looking at Bailey, shaking his head. I sit down next to her, rest my arm across her shoulders.

  “You’re just kids,” Dad says.

  “Two kids who are ready to make it work,” I say.

  “You want this, Bailey?” my dad asks. “What do your parents think?”

  I smile, noticing how he isn’t flat-out refusing.

  “I love Billy. I didn’t realize he was wanting to marry me…” She looks over at me, her eyes filled with tears. “I don’t want you to pity me, to consider this because you think you owe me something. Especially since my mom skipped town last night. I’m not your responsibility.”

  My dad frowns. “I don’t know what happened with you mother, but Billy told me his plans yesterday morning. He seemed dead set on this.”

  “Really?” she asks. “Because Billy, I don’t want you to think I can’t take care of myself. I can. I have and I will—”

  I cut her off. “Bailey, stop. Listen to me. I love you. I love your strength. Your grit. God, I know you can get through anything on your own. But what if you didn’t have to? What if I was here, at your side, to help you? Not to save you, but to support you?”

  I don’t know where those words came from, but damn, they are my truth. They filled my heart and now, they fill the room.

  My dad is wiping tears from his eyes, and Bailey has moved into my lap, and I kiss her. Kiss her hard. With promise. With intention.

  “I love you, Bailey. Be my bride.”

  She nods. “Yes,” she says, wrapping her arms around my neck. Our foreheads touch. “Yes, I will be your wife.” She shakes in my arms and Dad leaves the room.

  For a moment, I think he’s pissed — but then he walks back in, brushing tears from his eyes.

  “I know what most people are gonna say about you getting engaged before you’ve even so much as graduated high school, but you’re adults, and I trust you, Billy — with all my heart, I do. And your mother, God, she would be so proud of the man you’ve become. She’d want you to have this.”

  He hands me a ring, and damn, tears fill my eyes now, too. I stand, taking it from him. “Mom’s ring,” I say, taking in the small, simple diamond Dad bought her when they were just teenagers.

  I drop to one knee, and I take Bailey’s hand in mine. “Marry me?”

  “Of course.” She smiles, blinking back tears. “I will be your waffle-y wedded wife.”

  We crack up, and as I stand, pulling her into a kiss, her stomach growls.

  Dad laughs. “Hungry? Call your sister, Billy. Get Kourtney and Kaden over here to celebrate. I’ll make breakfast. How do waffles sound?”

  Epilogue 1

  Billy

  Four years later…

  When we got married the summer after high school, most people thought we were insane.

  We were.

  Insanely in love.

  We got hitched in a small backyard wedding. My teammates from the wrestling team thought I was nuts. My sister was incredulous.

  But my dad was my rock. He somehow got it. Got Bailey and me and was there for us in ways we never expected.

  “Are you going to miss married student housing?” I ask Bailey as we finish boxing up the last of our things. We could have moved off campus, but we decided to stay here and save money. As a married couple with not much income, we qualified for lots of scholarships and grants.

  “I love this little apartment,” she says, resting a hand on her five-month baby bump. “But I think it will be nice to have extra space when this one arrives.”

  I pull her into a kiss, and she sighs against me. “We’ve had a lot of firsts in this place.”

  “Our first fight,” I say, laughing. Remembering the fondue pot debacle that first fall after we got married. Apparently, you’re not supposed to throw it in the trash onc
e the chocolate hardens. “I’m sorry. I honestly never considered it melting with hot water.”

  “You’re such a guy,” she says, laughing. “And we had our first Christmas here. Remember how much it snowed? Our car wouldn’t budge and so we didn’t make it to your dad’s in time.”

  I chuckle. “Yeah, but maybe that was for the best. That was his first Christmas with his new wife, too.”

  “True.” Bailey smiles. “We also got pregnant here.”

  “Twice,” I say softly. I kiss my wife’s ear. I remember the pregnancy in our first year of marriage, how we lost the baby after three months. I remember holding Bailey in my arms, hating that I couldn’t fix this for her. But vowing to never take any moment we shared for granted. It reinforced everything we were already learning about love.

  It’s precious. It’s sacred. And God, when you have it, don’t let go.

  “I can’t believe we’re really moving on,” I say. We look around the nearly empty apartment, our graduation robes folded on the couch.

  “I can’t believe I actually graduated college. I never thought that I’d do that, Billy. Never in a million years.”

  “I’m so proud of you, baby,” I say. Bailey got her education in early childhood development. She decided that she had a lot to learn about caring for people after never having much of an example growing up. She’s soaked up so much information — she’s a sponge. She graduated with honors, and I am so proud of everything she has overcome.

  “I’m proud of you too,” she says.

  I got a job at the high school we went to — I’ll be a civics teacher and wrestling coach. Everything I hoped for is mine.

  And more.

  “You know, we don’t have to be at your dad’s place for the graduation party for another hour,” Bailey says. “And since we finished packing…”

  She bites the side of her mouth.

  I lift my girl off the ground. Carry her to the couch. Our robes fall to the floor — so do our clothes. “You look amazing,” I tell her, taking in her curves, her fuller tits, her round belly. It gets me so damn hard, looking at my wife.

  “Don’t make me blush.”

  “Fine, but can I at least make you wet?”

  She laughs as I get on my knees, spreading her thighs. “A little late to ask… I’m already there, baby,” she sighs, threading her fingers through my hair.

  I run my tongue over her creamy slit. I think back to the first time we sat down at a diner. Eating waffles drenched in syrup. I kiss her again and again and again. I moan as I lick her up and down.

  Damn, my wife’s pussy is waffle-y sweet.

  Epilogue 2

  Bailey

  Ten years later…

  I try not to think about it too hard.

  Because if I do, I get in mom-mode and get a little anxious. Okay, a lot anxious. Truth is, it’s terrifying to watch my little boy wrestle.

  But if you could see Baxter’s face, wearing his headgear and uniform, focused as if it all depended on this moment, you would be like me and realize a moment of fear is worth his pure joy.

  He takes after his father — Billy is on the side of the mat, one of the two coaches on Baxter’s City League team.

  My husband is stretched pretty thin these days. Between teaching, coaching the high school team, and helping with Baxter’s team, he is pulling long days. But soon it will be spring break, and we can all breathe a sigh of relief. Until then, though, we are getting through these days together. As a family.

  “Go on, Bax!” Beatrice calls to her big brother. She’s eight. And next to her is Barnett, our six-year-old son, who is sitting on Grandpa Logan’s lap. At my side is Blaire, our four-year-old daughter. Our toddler, Birdie, is at Grandma’s house—Logan’s wife, probably planting something in the garden.

  We’ve stair-stepped our B-named babies, and I place a hand on my very pregnant belly, feeling Betsy kick.

  Baxter is on the mat, wrestling his little heart out, and I admit to squealing in excitement as he pins his opponent. Billy claps his hands, cheering on our son as he wins the match. He turns, looking for me in the crowd, winking when he sees me. My heart speeds up, and I feel like a high school senior all over again, like a princess in love with the most wonderful man in the world.

  I see Josh and Jessa, our longtime friends from town, enter the gym and wave hello.

  Their oldest daughter, Ginger, wrestles in the same league as Bax, and I watch as they go over and give her a hug. Ginger is a pretty tough cookie, just like her mama.

  “How you feeling, sweetie?” Jessa asks. She hands me a chai and a snickerdoodle.

  “Better now. Gosh, you spoil me!”

  “It’s what friends are for.”

  Betsy kicks again and I grab Jessa’s hand. “Hey, feel this!”

  “Oh, wow, she’s busy.”

  I nod. “She’s been like this all day. Turning around and around like she’s—”

  “Getting in position?” Jessa says, eyes widening. “Wait, how close are you?”

  “I’m thirty-eight weeks,” I say, exhaling. “And the other kids have all come early.”

  “Which means… any day now.” Jessa smiles.

  I lean in close. “Let’s hope it’s a few more days. I’d really like some time alone with Billy tonight. He’s been working long hours.”

  Jessa smiles. “Let me take the kids for the night. I mean it.”

  “No way,” I laugh. “You know how many kids I have, right?”

  “I do, and I love them. All of them. I mean it — I’m bringing my Suburban to your house at six and you better be ready to pile those kiddos in my car.”

  * * *

  Several hours later, I stand on the front porch, waving goodbye as Jessa and Josh pull away with my kids safely bucked into their seats. Billy has been at school since the match, finishing up grading some papers, so I rush inside, tossing laundry in baskets and shoving them in the closet. I pick up shoes and Legos and dirty dishes, wanting to create the illusion of peace.

  Smiling, I jump in the shower — well, jump as well as a very pregnant woman can. I wash my hair and shave the parts of my legs I can reach. And then I find a pink thong that is stretchy enough to pull over my hips, and a satin robe that falls around my breasts in a way I know my husband will find insanely attractive.

  After drying my hair quickly, I swipe some clear lip gloss across my lips and grin, thinking of dinner.

  In the kitchen, I whip up some batter, plug in the iron, and light some candles. Just as I am reaching for the syrup, the front door opens.

  “Honey?” He must be caught off-guard by how quiet the house is.

  He finds me in the kitchen and chuckles, asking how I got the kids to bed so damn early.

  “They’re at Josh and Jessa’s for the night. We have the house to ourselves.”

  “Well, lucky us,” he says, setting a to-go bag on the counter.

  “What did you get?” I ask as he pulls me into a kiss.

  “I got you dinner from the diner. Your favorite. Waffles.”

  Tears fill my eyes. “You got me waffles?”

  “Did I do something wrong?”

  I shake my head, pointing to the waffle iron on the counter. “I guess we were both feeling romantic.”

  He cups my cheeks and kisses me. I sink against his chest and breathe him in. This man who made my life complete. Who loved me fully, forever, from day one.

  “I know my stomach is always growling, but can we wait on the waffles?”

  Billy runs a hand over his jaw. “First time I’ve ever heard you wait on food.”

  “I’m craving something else right now, Billy. You.”

  Upstairs, he unties my robe and runs his palm over my slick pussy, growling as we climb into bed. His cock is big and thick, and my body is starving for him.

  “You’ve been working so hard,” I tell him. “I needed this. Needed you.”

  “God, woman, you make me crazy.”

  “We’ve always bee
n a little crazy, haven’t we?”

  He smiles, kissing me hard, his cock in my hand as I climb on top of him. He guides himself inside of me and soon enough, I’m rocking in circles, my body lit up with desire for him. Him. Only him.

  Billy is so hard and he is so close. I arch my back as we get off, our orgasms so hot and ready, our bodies so obviously needing to get off. And God, do we ever. I’m panting as he pounds me, thrusting deep inside me, our bodies in a perfect rhythm until we’ve finished, breathless and still so damn horny for more. Lucky for us, we have the entire night.

  I can’t wait to meet our baby — but for now, I am more than satisfied having this time with Billy.

  “You’re so wet, baby,” he groans as he runs his hands over my back.

  My eyes widen. “Oh God!”

  “What is it?”

  “Uh, I think… I think… my water just broke, Billy!”

  We laugh, because of course my water broke on the one night we have alone.

  He helps me stand and get to the bathroom. As I’m considering what sort of clothes I should wear to the hospital, I lick my lips.

  As a good husband, who has been around this block four times before, he is already reaching for my hospital bag.

  “What is it?” he asks, his eyes meeting mine, knowing I’m up to something.

  I flash him a smile. “You think I can eat those waffles before we go?”

  The Way To A Man’s Heart Book 7

  One In A Melon

  On Amazon: The Way To A Man’s Heart Series

  I’ve know her forever.

  Georgina’s sassy, sexy, and stubborn as hell.

  She’s also my best-friend’s little sister.

  And she’s in serious trouble.

  What was supposed to be a great business opportunity is really a pyramid scheme and she’s in way over her head.