Have My Baby: Baby and Pregnancy Romance Collection

by Jamie Knight

  I like the way she says “we.” I feel as if I’d been fighting within myself for a long time. Should I go to Odessa with her or not? Should I spend Christmas with her or not? Should I continue my fighting career or not? Should I follow all the recommendations for my knee and eyes or not?

  Now I realize I’m tired of fighting. I just want to give in and have a nice relaxing time with my girl.

  She is my girl, I realize, whether we have made it official or not. Come to think of it, I should get on that.

  I look at her, say nothing, and stand up.

  She stands up too and then leads me into her bedroom. She has a big canopy bed with lots of white lace and pink drapery.

  She can be such a girly girl. And I like it.

  We enter her room and get onto her bed.

  “I want you,” I say and stare at her.

  “Are you sure?” she asks.

  “Yes. I want everything that entails. Your pink canopy bed, and going with you to meet your family in Texas. We’ll just, like, maybe not go to mine. I don’t know if my mom is even still alive but if she is, I assume she’s always on drugs. It’s better to just leave the past in the past and stop fighting it. So that we can look forward to the future together. And enjoy the present. And right now, I want to fuck you.”

  “OK,” she says. “I like all those ideas and I agree. Especially with the part about us fucking right now. Just let me get changed. I don’t feel sexy right now.”

  Amanda goes into the bathroom.

  I lean back on her big fluffy pillows and about a million throw pillows tossed at the head of the bed and close my eyes.

  Boy, is this bed comfortable.

  Then I remember my Rex.

  I call John, my neighbor, who I asked to look after him. John is a good guy. A gay guy who’d do anything for me and who is so smart.

  “Hello,” John says.

  “Hey, man,” I say. “How’s my buddy doing?”

  “Oh, he’s great,” John says. “I’m writing a conference paper on Emily Dickinson’s poetry and have been asking him his advice.”

  “And what does Rexie say?” I ask and laugh.

  “He just looks up at me, yawns, lays his head back down, lets out an enormous sigh and goes back to sleep.”

  “That sounds like him. He must be happy there with you, for sure. Thanks for taking care of my baby, man.”

  “Sure, Lincoln,” John says. “It’s all good. I at least have someone to listen to me whether voluntarily or not.”

  “I’m sure Rexie appreciates it.”

  “Bye, you hot stud who is unfortunately straight,” John says.

  I laugh and tell him thanks again and goodbye. I don’t think it’s so unfortunate that I’m straight though. Not now that I’m about to sex with the hottest woman I’ve ever seen, all over again.

  I sit up and take off my shirt and strip to my boxers. I always sleep like this. Plus, if I’m with Amanda I want to be even more comfortable.

  Amanda comes out of the bathroom wearing a silk nightgown that accentuates her curves.

  I immediately grow hard.

  She gets in bed and snuggles up to me.

  “Thank you,” she says.

  “For what?”

  “For opening up to me. For telling me your story.”

  “Shoot,” I say. “Weren’t nothin’.”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  I grab hold of her, and we cuddle and immediately fall asleep.

  Shit.

  I wake up and I’m as hard as hell.

  Amanda squirms.

  “Baby, you up?” I ask.

  “Yes,” she says as she sits up and rubs her eyes.

  She is too damn cute.

  “I’m horny,” I say.

  I lift the covers and pull down my boxers to show her my throbbing erection.

  “We’d better take care of that,” she says playfully.

  “Look,” I say. “I’m so hard I got pre-cum already leaking.”

  “Mmmm,” she says.

  She takes her finger and swipes my pre-cum and rubs her lips with it. Then she licks it off. But it seems she’s holding back just a bit.

  “So, you ready?” I ask.

  She sighs.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask,

  She sighs again.

  “I don’t’ know,” she says. She stands up and puts on her slippers. “After all you told me, do you feel OK about doing all of this?”

  I get out of bed, my erection throbbing and pre-cum leaking on the floor.

  “Yes, babe,” I say. “It ain’t like that. Not with you. I don’t get any bad memories or anything like that.”

  She looks down at my cock and smiles.

  “OK, that’s good to hear. So, get on the bed.”

  She throws me on the bed, gets on her knees and starts sucking.

  She wraps her hands around my shaft and moves them up and down. I love looking at her eyes glancing up at me as she does it, as if to ask whether she’s doing a good enough job, and she sure is.

  It has got to be the best blow job I’ve ever had. She sucks on the head of my cock and then she deepthroats me, taking all of me in her mouth. I cum hard, the orgasm so intense it’s as if I wet myself, and I immediately get hard again. She swallows my cum like a fucking champ.

  “You OK?” she asks as she lifts her head and wipes the cum off her mouth.

  “You bet,” I say. “Keep going.”

  “Anything for you, stud.”

  “I think I might love you,” I say, but she doesn’t hear me.

  She’s too busy sucking my cock and I don’t want to interrupt her at all. But I also want to be in her pussy. I feel I can cum at least two more times.

  She grabs a hold of my cock.

  I lean in and look at her.

  “You look so serious,” she says.

  “I am,” I say and kiss her.

  We make out and then I work my way down to her tits. I lovingly bunch them up and squeeze them and kiss them. I lick her nipples and she leans back with her eyes closed and breathes heavily.

  I take her gently. I take my cockhead and rub it over her clit. My cock plays with her clit as I precum even more. I start to think I should have a condom on, because the way I’m feeling about her right now, my cock is a guaranteed babymaker.

  I know she said she’s on the Pill, but you can never be too safe and nothing is 100% failure-proof. But I start to think I do want a baby with her, just not yet. And I’ve never had that thought about anyone but her so that’s really saying something.

  I then enter her gently and push. I stay in her and then move back. I stop. Then I move forward again.

  She sits up and wraps her arms around my neck and bites my shoulder. I feel her teeth gently cutting into the nape of my neck.

  I move back and forth more quickly until I reach a steady rhythm.

  She cries and moans.

  “Jake,” she says. “Jake, fuck me. Fuck me hard.”

  I say nothing as the sweat beads up and drips down my face and onto her back.

  I fuck her really hard now and she’s on the verge of an orgasm. I love to watch her big ass bounce and I can’t help but grab ahold of it and squeeze it some and even smack it for good measure.

  “Don’t stop! Don’t stop!” she screams.

  I feel my nuts about to bust and I’m as horny as hell.

  She leans back onto the bed as I blow my load into the condom, my cock still filling her up nice and tight as I shoot it into her little pussy.

  “Yes! Yes! Yes! That’s it!” she screams.

  She orgasms and explodes about the same time I do.

  I slow down as she catches her breath.

  I collapse on top of her and try to catch my own breath.

  We lay there for a while, basking in the afterglow of some of the hottest sex I’ve ever had.

  “Come here,” she says.

 
; I get up and lie next to her on the bed.

  “You’re the best lover I’ve ever had,” she says and looks at me.

  I kiss her on the mouth and nestle her against my chest.

  I grab onto her and we sit there in the quiet. I can hear the traffic on the street as well as some people laughing and yelling drunkenly.

  “Stupid motherfuckers,” I mumble.

  “Oh, Jake,” she says. “You need to be more at peace with the world.”

  “I guess so,” I say.

  Amanda sighs and in a few minutes she’s asleep.

  I just want to hold onto her forever and never let anything bad happen to her.

  Ever.

  Chapter 19 - Lincoln

  I go home the next morning and just sit around and think. The fight with César Ramirez is coming up and I haven’t given it any thought. The word on the street is that I’m afraid of him; that I’m an injured has-been who simply doesn’t have the guts to face him, or that I’m just an outright wimp. He’s even made vague statements that I’m afraid of him because of his physical prowess.

  El Latino Monstruoso, he calls himself: The Latin Monster. He’s a handsome dude with light chocolate skin and a jacked slender body. He’s half Puerto Rican and half Italian, and he’s got dark good looks. Hairy-chested, muscled, charismatic and arrogant, he’s the fan favorite.

  I, on the other hand, have lost favor with my fan base. In some ways I’m the hero of the all-American, redneck segment. Just a good ol’ boy for the good ol’ boys.

  I don’t want to disappoint them, but I also don’t want to seem like I hate the guy or that I’m afraid of him. In many ways, my nice guy yet tough persona has gotten me far. And I don’t hate Ramirez—I just think he’s a big douchebag.

  But business is business and I need to get in shape. I run over to John’s to grab Rex and decide we are going to do some running. Some of the guys I work out with are against cardio. They say it destroys all the muscle work you do; that it pumps up your estrogen level up and gives you a girly voice like those recent Olympic gymnasts.

  Fuck, those gymnasts are some of the most jacked-up motherfuckers in an elastic and taut way, skinny or not.

  Some of the dudes I hang out with can be so ignorant. It makes me think I need to reassess the social circle I travel in.

  I show up at John’s and before I can even knock, Rexie bounds out the door. He raises himself and puts his paws on my shoulders and licks my face.

  “I think he missed you,” John said.

  “I guess so,” I say and coax Rexie down.

  John hands me the dog leash.

  “Don’t be a stranger,” he says.

  “Thanks, man,” I say, giving him a hug.

  “Any time,” he says.

  I put Rexie’s leash on and he can’t stand still.

  “Wanna go for a walk?”

  Rexie barks and barks and wags his tail so hard his butt swings wildly back and forth.

  We run for several blocks and I clear my head. I think of nothing. Just the pavement in front of me and Rexie steadily keeping up beside me as he jogs along. His tongue lolls and he has that happy-dog-smile look on his face.

  At the busy street corner, I stop and wait for the walk light. I’m sweating so I pull off my t-shirt, wipe my face and chest with it, and shove it in the back of my shorts.

  Two college girls approach and wait for the light as well. One of them talks about how hard her genetics exam was while the other whispers something in her ear.

  I’m not really paying attention, but I look over at them and they smile and laugh.

  “Mornin’, ladies,” I say.

  They say nothing and laugh again.

  The walk light flashes and I run off with Rexie. As I start to cross the street, I hear one of the girls say to the other “he’s hot.”

  I smile, glad they think so, but my heart and my cock are taken. I only want Amanda. I continue to run for about another few blocks as I circle back and head for home. As I approach my place my phone dings and vibrates in my pocket. I take it out and look at it.

  It’s a text from Bill, my agent.

  “Take a look at this,” it reads. I click on it and it seems like an on-line ad. César Ramirez stands against a black background with his hands crossed over his hairy pecs. “Is Lincoln Drake afraid of the Latin Snake?”

  I laugh. The Latin Snake? What happened to being the Latin Monster?

  I dial Bill.

  “Hey, Lincoln,” he says. I can hear him smoking and coughing. He’s probably on his seventh can of Coke by now. When it comes to personal hygiene and dental care, he’s low on the list. But he knows more about wheeling and dealing in the MMA world and everyone wants him for his agent.

  “Hey,” I say. “Just got your text.”

  “Whaddya think?” he asks and lapses into a coughing fit.

  “I think it’s hilarious,” I say.

  Honestly, I don’t know what to think but it is good press, for both Ramirez and me.

  “I’m fuckin’ pissed at you!” Bill says.

  I can hear him stand up as the metal office chair screeches against the tile floor in his office.

  “Sorry,” I say.

  I’ve learned to tolerate Bill’s moods and to soothe him when he’s like this. He’s like having another girlfriend, except one with a penis.

  “Are ya gonna fight this motherfucker or not?”

  “Funny you should say that.”

  I sit on the front steps of my place. Rexie plops down on the ground and pants after our run.

  “So what is it?” he asks and takes another drag of his cigarette.

  “I’m thinking about it.”

  I hear nothing on the other end.

  “Bill, you there?”

  “Oh, my Gawd!” he says.

  “What?’

  “Ramirez is running another ad about you!”

  “Just now?” I ask.

  “Yeah, that’s two in a row just this morning!”

  “OK,” I say.

  I hear Bill laugh, then cough, then wheeze.

  “We can really use this to our advantage!”

  I had already drawn that conclusion but it’s best to let Bill think that he’s come up with the plan himself.

  “Ya think so?” I ask and smile to myself.

  “Call ya back!” he yells and hangs up.

  The sun was almost at its noon high. Rexie is almost asleep on the ground. I think of Amanda, my run and even César Ramirez in all of his goofy masculine prowess.

  What he doesn’t realize (or maybe he does) is that he’s just given me the best press I’ve received in a long time.

  “I think I’ll call him up and set up a date,” he says. “For the fight, that is.”

  I shrug.

  I don’t know how to tell him this, but I’ve actually been thinking of retiring. I want to be in good health, and happy with Amanda.

  I know he’ll think I’m a pussy though.

  “Hold off,” I tell him.

  “He said he’ll fight you anywhere, any time,” Bill says. “All we have to do is say the word.”

  “I’ll let you know,” I say, and hang up.

  It’s decision time, for a lot of things. And I’ve never been great at making decisions.

  Chapter 20 - Amanda

  Ah, bliss! Finally, a much needed day off. It’s the long Thanksgiving weekend, so Anne, Margie, Catharine and I go out to Sushi Heaven. It’s Anne’s favorite place. We always tease her about it being ironic, that a place called Sushi Heaven is located in the Hell’s Kitchen area of Manhattan.

  We sit down and look at the menus.

  “For someone who doesn’t like fish,” Margie says and looks up at Anne, “you sure do like fish.”

  “Margie!” I say and slap her lightly on the hand.

  “That’s OK, Amanda,” Anne says. “Sushi is good fish and doesn’t smell like dirty clam chow
der from 1992.”

  “Oh!” I scream. “And how would you know?”

  “I don’t, and I don’t want to know,” he says.

  We all laugh and then just then our server comes over.

  “How y’all doin’ today?” she asks.

  “Just fine, just fine,” Anne says.

  “Glad to hear it.”

  Anne orders the tuna tataki while Margie gets a bento box and Catharine gets a dragon roll.

  “Seaweed salad for me,” I said.

  “Is that all, honey?” the waitress asks.

  “Umm, could I have some fresh avocado as well?”

  “Sure thing, honey, be right back.”

  “That’s all you’re getting?” Anne asks.

  “Yeah.”

  “She’s watching her figure for Lincoln,” Margie says and sips her ice water.

  “Stop!” I say.

  “You know,” Anne says. “You really shouldn’t be dating your clients.”

  Margie looks at her and cups her chin with her right hand.

  “At least she’s dating someone at all, unlike some of the rest of us,” Margie says.

  Anne turns red and fumbles.

  “Um, I mean, I guess you’re right.”

  “Um, like, yeah,” I say and try to downplay it, but I must admit I’m a little hurt by what Anne just said.

  And I’m rather surprised that it’s Margie who has my back when it comes to something as frivolous as falling for a guy. I’d have thought that she’d be much more practical, warning me about problems I might encounter in the professional arena, like Anne just was.

  The server brings our food and places the dishes on the table.

  “Here, honey,” she says to me. “The chef placed the avocado to the side for you.”

  “Thank you,” I say.

  “I can have him mix it in for you if you like?”

  “No, it’s perfect.”

  “He just wasn’t sure if you wanted it mixed up with the seaweed.”

  “It’s wonderful,” I say and smile at her.

  “Let’s just say Amanda’s in the weeds!” Anne jokes.

  Margie shakes her head and I say nothing.