The Baby Contract

by Amy Brent

  I traced my hands down over his lower stomach. I felt the veins there and followed them down to his cock, which was firm and ready for me. I took him in my hand and ran my tongue over the tip of him. I took his balls in my other hand and gently rolled them in my palm as I opened my mouth and sealed my lips over his cock. I rested my tongue against the bottom of his shaft and then, ever so slowly, worked my way down until he was pressing into the back of my throat.

  He was moaning after a few pumps inside my mouth. I paused, rolling my tongue over his tip, when he shifted his hips.

  The covers were suddenly lifted up. His abs tightened as he peered down at me beneath the blankets.

  “Hey, you,” he said a little breathlessly. “What are you doing down there?”

  I took his cock out of my mouth and smiled up at him. “Thanking you for taking care of me last night.”

  “Oh,” he said, his eyes closing when I sealed my lips over him. “Carry on then,” he said, and the blankets fell down over my head, plunging me into warm darkness that smelled like his deodorant and musky man smell.

  The solitary darkness didn’t last long. I sucked him off, my cheeks puckering as I suckled, until he ripped the blankets off and grabbed a fistful of my hair.

  “I like to see you,” he said, his eyes locking on mine as he pushed me down on his cock.

  I never broke his gaze. He rocked his hips against me and took as much of him as I could. It didn’t take long for his muscles to tighten up. His cock bobbed in my mouth. I caressed his balls and ran my tongue up his shaft while holding him in my mouth.

  He moaned, pressing his head back against the pillow, as he came in my throat. I swallowed all of it greedily until he was done.

  I crawled off of him and wiped my lips with a finger. He watched me out of the corner of his eye as his chest rose and fell. I smiled at him.

  “You don’t know what you do to me,” he said softly.

  “I think I have a bit of an idea,” I giggled, glancing at his crotch.

  He rolled his eyes and chuckled and then rolled onto his side to face me, propping his head up with one hand. He had bedhead hair. It was jutting out all over the place, and I liked the chaotic edge it gave him. It especially complimented the facial hair.

  “I know that giving is better than receiving,” I said slowly, tracing a finger over my knee, “but I’m going to be honest. This pregnancy is making me crazy horny, and I don’t think I can leave this bed until you make me come.”

  “Is that a threat?” Ethan asked playfully, one dark eyebrow arching dramatically.

  “If it is?”

  He grinned and got to his knees on the bed. “Did you think I could let you leave after that? You thought I would have the self-control not to eat that pussy of yours? Not after that. Not when I know how wet you are.”

  I blushed.

  “Take off your panties,” he said.

  I lay down on my back and pulled my thong off. I tossed it aside, and Ethan crawled between my legs. He went down flat on his belly and looked up at me. I met his gaze between my knees, blushed even more fiercely, and let my head fall back against the pillow with an excited giggle.

  He started off slow. His fingers traced the outside of my pussy, just grazing the skin of my lips with a feather-light touch. I waited for what felt like an eternity until he ran one finger up my slit. I was so wet. So swollen. Sucking his cock and swallowing his come had made me so horny.

  He dipped a finger in me. I moaned softly. He pulled it out, sucked his finger, and then slid it back in. Then he leaned in close. I could feel his breath on my pussy. His finger worked in and out, nice and slow, and when his tongue licked my clit, all thoughts were eradicated from my mind. I was consumed by him.

  He closed his lips over my swollen clit and suckled, drawing it into his mouth as he continued fucking me with his fingers.

  My breathing quickened. He held me in place with his other hand on my lower belly. I began gently rotating my hips, encouraging him. He moaned into my pussy. I knew he loved eating me out as much as I loved sucking him off.

  He pushed another finger inside me.

  His tongue flicked over my clit and little jolts of electricity shot through my body. His thrusts with his fingers became more powerful when he knew I was about to explode.

  He lifted his mouth from me. “I know you want to come,” he breathed. I looked down at him. “Let it happen. Come for me.”

  His words seemed to have their desired effect. His lips found my clit again, and he continued that delicious suckling he was so good at as his fingers flicked eagerly inside me. My hips rolled as the tightness inside me relaxed and gave way to my orgasm.

  I gasped, desperate and excited, as he continued tasting me while I came.

  When I was done, he folded his arms beneath him and smiled up at me like a proud boy scout. “Better?” he asked.

  I rolled my eyes and pressed my hands to my temples. “Definitely. Much better. I feel like I can breathe again.”

  He patted my thigh affectionately before rolling off the bed. “You just let me know the next time you’re having trouble breathing. I can help you out any time.”

  “I’m sure you can.” I laughed, getting out of bed and grabbing my panties from the floor. “I’m going to go shower.”

  “Me too,” he said. “Meet me in the kitchen in twenty? I’ll make us breakfast. What do you want, waffles or omelets?”

  I twirled my panties in my fingers and looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully.

  “Both it is,” Ethan said with a grin before slipping into his bathroom and closing the door behind him.

  I smiled to myself all the way down the hall to my bedroom. I made straight for the shower and basked in the steam and hot water. When I was done, I lathered myself in the decadent lavender body butter Ethan had set out on my vanity for me when I moved in. I spritzed a bit of perfume on my neck and wrists before slipping into a pair of loose silk purple pajama pants and a matching long sleeve top.

  Then, feeling like I was walking on a cloud, I made my way into the kitchen where Ethan was standing with his back to me, breaking eggs into a mixing bowl. He looked over his shoulder at me, gave me that handsome smile I liked so much, and nodded pointedly at the barstool at his counter.

  “Take a seat. Your mouth will be dancing with flavors in no time.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Ethan

  I slid the omelet off the pan and onto the plate beside the waffle I had decorated with whipped cream, syrup, and strawberries. Then, I put the plate in front of Devon. She stared at it, wide-eyed, before looking up at me with something akin to adoration in her eyes.

  “This is incredible,” she said gratefully, picking up her fork and carving off a corner of the waffle. She took a bite, closed her eyes as she chewed, and bounced her feet happily on the foot stand of the barstool. “You should have been a chef.”

  I took the seat beside her and took a bite myself. It was good, I’d give myself that much credit, but it wasn’t as good as she was making it sound. I wondered if the pregnancy was having an impact on her taste buds.

  “It’s not too shabby,” I said.

  “Shabby?” Devon said incredulously. “These waffles beat the ones at that little crepe place down on Sixth. Heather and I used to go there all the time and …” She trailed off, her eyes becoming glassy as she put her fork down and dabbed the whipped cream off her upper lip with the back of her hand.

  That all too familiar guilt swirled in my gut. “You miss her a lot, don’t you?” I asked. I knew the separation between Devon and my sister was killing her. I had caught her staring off into space several times, and by the morose expression on her face, I knew she was thinking about her friend.

  Devon nodded. “Yeah. And I feel like there’s so much going on right now that she should be a part of, you know?”

  I did know. I felt the same way. I wished Heather was around to enjoy how good things were going with me. “I know.”


  Then, an idea struck me. I pushed my plate away and twisted on my stool to face Devon directly. She was leaning over her plate with her fork halfway to her mouth. She paused and looked up at me, her eyes still a little watery from holding her tears at bay.

  “How about a little trip to get your mind off things? I have a place in the Hamptons. We could wander through town. There are lots of nice little bakeries and whatnot. What do you say?”

  Devon put her fork down. “Are you serious?”

  “Hell yeah, I am. Go pack your bag. Bring warm clothes. It’ll be cold as tits there.”

  I had Eddison drop us off in Sag Harbor. He left us at the curb and pulled away to make for my Hampton estate with our bags. Devon turned to me, tucking a strand of windblown dark hair behind her ear.

  “This place is so sweet,” she said, looking both ways down the narrow sidewalks at the little shop fronts. “Where do we start?”

  “Wherever you want,” I said, spreading my arms out to my sides. “The place is ours for the day.”

  She grinned and proceeded to look back and forth. She looked adorable, all bundled up in her white puffy winter jacket. The hood was lined with faux fur that danced in the cold breeze around her cheeks. She had a red scarf wrapped around her neck and wore a matching headpiece that covered her ears and forehead. Her blue jeans hugged her legs and were tucked into a pair of fuzzy boots that matched her jacket.

  “Let’s go there,” she said, pointing across the street to a little cafe. “I could really go for some hot chocolate.”

  “Hot chocolate?” I said, arching an eyebrow. “How sophisticated of you.”

  She giggled as I took her hand and the two of us half jogged across the street. “Well, I’m not supposed to have too much caffeine, remember? My coffee cravings are finally gone, so I’ll settle for hot chocolate. Judge me all you want.”

  “I’m not judging,” I said earnestly. “I think I’ll get the same. I hope they have sprinkles.”

  Devon surprised me with very unladylike, full belly laughter as we hopped up on the curb. I found that I quite loved the sound of it, and throughout the rest of our afternoon around town, I did everything in my power to try to hear it as many times as possible.

  We wandered in and out of each and every shop. Devon admired the pastel-colored shawls and dresses, all of which I plucked from their hangers and purchased for her despite her loud protests.

  “If you like them, you should have them,” I said simply.

  “No,” she said as I handed the cashier in one of the shops my credit card. “Most people don’t get things simply because they want them.”

  “Well, I do,” I said, pocketing the card and taking the bag of clothes from the counter, “and therefore, so do you. I have money that I’ll never spend. Let me spend some of it on you. You deserve at least that much.”

  The corner of her mouth twitched, and she braced herself against the cold wind when we stepped outside. “You’re too kind to me,” she said.

  I put a hand on the small of her back as we walked to the next shop. I didn’t say anything. It didn’t feel like anything needed to be said. I opened the door for her, and we ducked inside, the bell chiming above our heads as the door closed.

  Later, around two in the afternoon, we made our way down to the beach. We set out along the sand, shopping bags draped over my right arm, and talked happily about the baby. I couldn’t stop from smiling, and every time I looked over at her, she was smiling back at me. The waves of the ocean crashed behind her, and the wind blew her hair all over the place, and I couldn’t think of a time where she had looked more beautiful.

  “Do you have any name ideas?” Devon asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear for the hundredth time.

  I was a little surprised by the question. “No,” I said. “To be honest, I haven’t really given them any thought.”

  “Really?” Devon asked.

  “Yeah. I sort of figured we’d know the right name when we saw him, you know?”

  “We?”

  I met her stare. “Of course, we,” I said, “unless you don’t want to partake in naming him.”

  “No, it’s not that,” Devon said with a smile. “I just didn’t know if you’d want the help, or if you would rather name your son on your own.”

  “As long as you don’t suggest anything like Bob or George or something like that, I’m sure I would appreciate your help,” I joked.

  She giggled, pressed a finger to her chin, and feigned thoughtfulness. “Well, I don’t know about Bob or George. But I was really thinking that Harold Garrison had a nice ring to it.”

  “Harold? Really?” I asked, struggling not to burst into laughter. “I don’t want to hold my newborn and look down at him and call him Harold. That’s an old man’s name.”

  “Well, he’ll be an old man one day. It’s a name he can grow into.”

  “It’ll take him six decades to grow into it!” I exclaimed, drawing to a stop.

  I keeled over and slapped her thighs as she laughed. “I’m messing with you, Ethan! I think we can come up with a better name than that for him. Besides, he doesn’t feel like a Harold.”

  “No?” I asked as we started walking again. “What does he feel like?”

  She smiled thoughtfully and put her gloved hands on her stomach. “I don’t know yet.”

  I had the sudden overwhelming urge to grab her hand, pull her to me, and kiss her. But I didn’t. It wasn’t something two people in a legally binding contract did. That was something a couple did, a couple who was expecting their first child.

  I looked down, fixating on the sand under my boots as we made our way farther down the beach.

  “It’s beautiful here,” Devon said after a while. She was looking out at the ocean. “I never thought I’d be lucky enough to ever come here.”

  “You can come back anytime you like,” I said. “Seriously. My beach house is just up the way, near the end. If you ever want to use it in the future, you’re more than welcome to.”

  She turned back to me. “That would be nice,” she said before looking back at the ocean. “That would be really nice.”

  We kept walking, our feet sinking in the sand. Soon the sky was darkening, and the horizon was bright with shades of pink and purples. We stopped to face the ocean and take in the sight.

  “He’s a lucky kid,” Devon said, “to have you as his father.” Her bright eyes flicked to me, and she gave me one of those brilliant smiles of hers that made my knees feel like putty. “Seriously, Ethan, he’s going to be so blessed. Not to mention, I’m sure he’ll turn out to be a perfect gentleman like you.”

  “I don’t know if I’d consider myself that,” I chuckled.

  She looked back out at the ocean with a smile still lingering in the corners of her mouth. “Oh, but you are. How you’ve treated me over the last few months, I couldn’t ask for anything more, Ethan. I’m truly grateful for everything.”

  I reached down and took her hand in mine. I gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “You’re welcome. And I’m grateful for all you’ve done for me too.”

  We stood like that, hand in hand, watching the sun dip below the curved line of the horizon until, all at once, the sun was gone and the stars were twinkling above in the pale darkness of dusk.

  Chapter Twenty

  Devon

  Ethan’s beach house was one of the most breathtaking homes I had ever set foot in. It was a sprawling home perched right on the beach. The back of the house was entirely made of windows, giving a panoramic view of the ocean and the night sky.

  Everything inside was bright and airy, quite the opposite of his Upper East Side apartment. The furniture was white and covered in lavish white and gray blankets and pillows. The floors were pale hardwood, and the house seemed to stretch on and on, each room giving way to another that was equally as beautiful as the last.

  I fell down onto the plush couch in the living room at the back of the house. Ethan had turned on the fireplace. The flames d
anced over crystals behind the glass and reflected in the windows. He sat down beside me, resting one hand on my knee as he put his heels up on the coffee table.

  We were both tuckered out from our day of exploring. We had ordered dinner in. Ethan picked the place, excitedly telling me that the little restaurant he always ordered from had the best Greek food in all of New York. He had been right.

  I enjoyed the meal, and then we sat outside on his patio wrapped up in blankets while our food settled. When it got too cold, we came in.

  “So you enjoyed your first trip to the Hamptons?” Ethan asked, his hand wandering from my knee down to my thigh.

  “Thoroughly,” I said. “It’s so much better than I imagined it. And this place,” I said, looking up at the high ceilings, crown molding, and lavish fireplace, “this place is a dream.”

  Ethan grinned. “It’s better with company. Normally, I’m here on my own.”

  “Oh,” I said. “I could enjoy it solo too. I can’t wait to wake up and sit out on the patio with a cup of tea and look out at that view. I’ve never seen anything like it.” I rested my hand on his resting on my thigh.