by Amy Brent
The tears continued to flow.
I never heard the front door open, but I heard it close.
I stifled my sobs and sat in paralyzed silence, straining my ears to listen for Ethan. How long had he been inside for? Had he heard me crying?
I listened to the sound of his footsteps out in the hall. They were muffled for a moment, and I knew he was crossing the plush carpet in front of the sofas. Then he was coming down the hall, passing his own bedroom, and the bathroom, and the study.
He knocked softly on my bedroom door.
I wiped my cheeks in a panic, trying to find my voice.
“Dev?” he called softly.
“Y-yes,” I said, my voice hitching in my throat.
“Are you all right?”
No. I’m so far from being all right. I’m terrible. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just need a minute and I’ll be out, okay?”
There was silence from the other side of the door. I didn’t dare move.
“I’m coming in,” Ethan said.
“Wait, no, it’s fine—”
He opened the door.
I turned my back to him hurriedly and ran my fingers under my eyes. I heard him come around the end of the bed. Then, before I knew it, he was in front of me, crouching down and balancing on the balls of his feet as he rested a warm hand on each of my knees.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
My heart ached just looking at him. His eyebrows were drawn together, and his lips were pursed in a fine line. The muscles of his jaw were working as he searched my eyes, waiting for an answer I wasn’t currently capable of giving him without breaking down into another fit of crying.
I shook my head, afraid to try to speak.
“It’s okay,” he said softly. “Just get it out.”
I didn’t need his permission, but his willingness to sit through this with me broke me. I buried my face in my hands and cried. He straightened and sat beside me, drawing me into him. I curled up in his lap, and he held me against his chest as I cried.
“Is this about Heather?” he asked, something in his voice a little harder than before.
I nodded.
“Just her?” he clarified.
I wanted to nod but couldn’t lie to him. There was more to it than that.
“What, then?” he asked, pushing me gently away from him to peer into my eyes. “You can tell me. Have I done something to hurt you?”
“No,” I said hurriedly, surprised at my own ability to speak. “No, it’s not you. Y-you’re,” I sniffed and dabbed my eyes, “you’re wonderful. It’s me. I’m disgusting.”
“What?” he asked, his eyebrows pulling even closer together. Had I not been so distraught, I might have thought it was kind of funny how they looked like they were merging into one across his forehead.
“I’m not sexy anymore,” I said, gesturing at myself. “I have fat ankles and swollen feet, and my stomach is huge. Soon, I won’t be able to fit sideways through doorways.”
I didn’t miss the very tiny smile that threatened to curl his lips. Ethan shook his head, and I could see him forcing to keep his expression neutral. “You are still incredibly sexy, Dev.”
“You’re just saying that to be nice,” I accused.
“No, I’m not. I mean it. You’re still sexy as hell. Let me prove it to you.”
Ethan’s fingers slid under my belly to pull my shirt over my head. The way he was looking at me certainly didn’t make me feel unattractive. His eyes still held that lustful glint they always did when things got steamy.
He stood before me and helped me out of my pants and then my panties. I stayed on the bed as he leaned over me, raining kisses over my stomach. My tears were dry, and I was completely consumed with watching him.
I still thought he was as hot now as he was the first time we fucked. His hair was a bit longer than it had been seven months ago, but it suited him. He had it slicked back, and I loved running my fingers through it when we had sex. It was thick and smelled like his shampoo, fresh rain.
Ethan dropped to his knees between my legs. I knew this routine well, so I opened my legs for him, inviting him to lean in and press his lips to my clit. I was so sensitive now, more so than I ever had been, and his first lick made me quiver with excitement.
My body took over from there.
My hips moved as he tasted me, encouraging him to keep going. He dipped his tongue inside me, and I moaned as my pussy started pulsing. He knew how fast I could come now. Being pregnant had been a game changer for sex for me. For the last month, I had been out of this world horny, and Ethan’s touch sent me into mind-reeling orgasms faster than ever before.
He slipped a finger inside me. My walls tightened around him instantly. I heard him make a satisfied sound in the back of his throat as he continued suckling my clit and fucking me with his finger.
My first orgasm crept up on me quickly. One second, I was basking in the glory of his exquisite touch, and the next, I was clutching the sheets and rocking into his hand as I came.
When I was done, Ethan kissed the inside of my thighs and got to his feet. He undressed, his stare fixed on me, and then he had me turn over and get on my hands and knees at the edge of the bed.
He crouched and gripped the backs of my thighs. His hands were warm and strong, and he held onto me as he started eating me out. His tongue ran up and down my slit and paused every now and then to swirl around my swollen clit.
He slid two fingers inside me.
I hung my head and pressed my forehead to the mattress. He was too good at this now. He knew exactly what to do to get me off. He brought me to the brink of coming like it was as effortless for him and then stopped. I moaned in frustration and wiggled my hips in an effort to convince him to keep going.
He waited a few more seconds until he knew my orgasm had abated before starting up again. He built up the momentum slower this time, caressing my clit with his tongue and sliding his fingers slowly in and out of me.
I bit the inside of my cheek in an effort to contain the cry of delight that wanted to escape me. I didn’t want him to know when I was about to come because I was sure he would make me wait.
Even when I kept my mouth shut, he knew when I was about to climax. His fingers stopped, buried up to the knuckle inside me, and he pulled his tongue away from my pulsing clit.
I blew out an exasperated breath and lifted my head. “Keep going,” I pleaded. “It feels so good.”
“I know,” he breathed behind me, his breath hot on the back of my thighs, “I’ll let you come when I want you to.”
His words sent a thrill through me. I liked when he took control, regardless of whether he made me wait for my orgasm. His fingers started moving inside me. His tongue returned to my clit.
He edged me a few more times until I thought I might scream at him in desperation. Right when I thought I couldn’t take anymore, when my pussy felt so swollen and achy, when my legs were trembling uncontrollably, and when my knuckles were white from gripping the sheets so tightly, he let me come. He suckled my clit and curled his fingers inside me, and then fucked me hard and fast, his fingertips striking my G-spot with every thrust.
My orgasm tore me apart. I cried out as I came. I felt the wet heat between my legs. It ran down the inside of my thighs. Ethan kept going, his fingers setting my soul on fire until I was undone by another body-shaking orgasm.
As I was coming, Ethan pulled his fingers out, stood, and drove his cock inside me. He took my hips in his hands and pulled me into his hips with every thrust. His balls slapped against me as I came all over his dick.
I cried out his name.
Ethan continued fucking me until my orgasm was done, and then he had me lie down on my side on the bed. He joined me, lying on his side behind me. He lifted my leg in the air and slipped his cock into my pussy. I was so wet. He whispered in my ear how good it felt, and then kissed my neck as he reached over my hip with one hand to rub my clit.
I looked back at him. He stare
d into my eyes as he fucked me. Then he kissed me, and the electric shock of his lips on mine brought me to another thrilling climax.
“I’m coming,” I said, my bottom lip pinched between his teeth.
“Fuck,” he grated, as my pussy bloomed with more wetness and tightened around his cock. Then he was coming, and the two of us were moaning into each other as we finished.
When we were done, Ethan pulled a pillow down from the top of the bed and fluffed it under my head. He curled around me, and I loved how I fit in the curve of his body. His right arm was under my head, and his left hand rested on my belly. His thumb gently rubbed my skin until he fell still, and I knew he was sleeping.
As I listened to his deep breathing behind me, I realized something that terrified me. I was in love with Ethan Garrison.
I was madly in love him.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ethan
“Hey,” I said, surprised that Heather had even answered my phone call. She didn’t say anything at first. I could hear her breathing on the other end, and I had the strong impression that she was considering hanging up on me. “I miss you, little sis, and I think it’s about time we sat down together. Lunch today?”
Heather had always appreciated my more direct approach. I didn’t like to leave room for bullshit. I got right to the point, and if she wasn’t ready, she could tell me as much.
“I don’t know, Ethan,” she said slowly. Her hesitation was enough to show me she wanted to meet. She just had too much pride to come out and admit it so early in the game.
“I want something simple like soup and a sandwich. There’s a new place on Maine that I’ve heard great things about. Meet me at one.” It was a statement, not a question.
Heather sighed. “Fine. One.”
“Perfect,” I said. “See you soon, sis.”
I didn’t tell Devon I was going to meet Heather for lunch. She was sitting on the sofa curled up in her usual corner with a book when I emerged from my bedroom. She tried to pry me for answers, but I evaded her questions by telling her I had a couple business meetings. She bought it and returned her attention to her book after wishing me a good day.
It felt good to leave the house with a beautiful girl wishing you a good day.
I met Heather at one on the dot. She was there already, unwinding a plaid scarf from her neck. She stayed in her seat when I came in, and I took the spot across from her. It was awkwardly tense for the first little while, and once we put in our orders, I forced myself to start talking. If one of us didn’t put ourselves out there first, nothing would come from this lunch.
And I couldn’t stand for that.
“Thanks for coming, sis,” I said as kindly as I could.
“It was more of a demand than an invitation,” she said coolly.
“True,” I said, “which I wouldn’t have had to do if you weren’t being such a diva about this whole thing.”
“A diva?” she exclaimed, crossing her arms and glaring at me. If she had been standing, I was sure she would have stomped her foot like she did when we were teenagers. “I am not being a diva. My own brother hooked up with my best friend and then whoops,” she threw her hands in the air like she was tossing confetti, “they’re having a baby together all of a sudden. And you know what happens next? They lie about it. Why couldn’t you have told me, Ethan? What did you think I would do?”
“I’m sorry,” I said earnestly. “I never wanted to hurt you. Neither did Dev.”
“Dev, hey?” Heather asked coldly.
“Yes,” I said, knowing she was irritated by my use of the nickname she had given Devon years ago. “Neither of us wanted it to happen this way. We went about it all wrong. Devon misses you dearly. So do I. We want you around for all of this, Heather.”
Heather gnawed at her bottom lip and uncrossed her arms. “I want to be around too,” she said quietly. “I want to be part of my niece or nephew’s life.”
Hearing her say the word nephew made my heart pitter patter in my chest. “Nephew,” I said.
Heather smiled at me. It was a brilliant, happy smile that was gone as fast as it came. “Before I get too ahead of myself,” she said, “I need to ask you some questions.”
“Whatever you need to know, the floor is yours.”
“When did you and Dev start dating?” Heather asked.
I was going to be honest about everything. Well, almost everything. I had promised Devon that no one would ever know about the surrogacy program. We would tell everyone that we were in a relationship and follow through with our scheduled break-up as planned after a couple months.
“We hooked up one time, and that was when she was pregnant. I knew I couldn’t let her do it alone, so we took a shot in the dark and tried to make it work.”
“Wow,” Heather said. “That’s very mature of you and responsible.”
“Don’t sound so surprised,” I scowled jokingly.
She chuckled and shook her head. “I can’t believe it, Ethan. You’re going to have a son. And Dev, she’s going to be a mom.”
“Yeah,” I said, “and she could really use her best friend right now.”
Heather looked at her hands in her lap. “How has she been?”
“She’s been keeping it together but barely,” I said honestly. “I’ve tried to do everything I can to make her feel better, but sometimes there’s no better medicine than a hug from your bestie. At least, that’s what I’ve learned from all the romcoms she’s been making me watch.”
Heather arched a judgmental eyebrow. “Romcoms, hey?”
I shrugged.
She licked her lips. “I miss her too.”
“Good. Come over for dinner tonight. Let’s put all this behind us. You miss her, she misses you, and I can’t keep coming home to her crying. Please, Heather, come see her.”
“You really care about her, don’t you?” Heather asked.
It was a simple question, really. For some reason, I couldn’t think of a single thing to say. So I waved her off and was grateful when our plates of food arrived.
***
Devon peered around me at the pasta sauce I was stirring on the stove. She looked up at me and then back down at the sauce.
“Can I help you?” I asked.
“You made a lot,” she said. “Like, way more than usual. I might be getting fatter by the second, but I’m not going to eat that much food in one sitting.”
“You’re not fat,” I laughed, covering the sauce with the lid. “Maybe I overdid it a little bit. Sue me. You’ll have leftovers.”
“What if it tastes bad?” Devon teased, sticking her tongue out at me and bumping my hip with her own.
I bumped her back and poked her on the nose with my finger. “You’ve never complained about my cooking before. Don’t start now just because you’re feeling sassy.”
“Sassy?” Devon giggled. “Oh, you poor thing, you have no idea what I can be like when I’m sassy.”
“I don’t think I want to find out.”
“You will. Just give it another month. When I’m about to explode and my belly is the size of a house, you will learn the true meaning of sassy.”
As I was about to come back with a remark of my own, the doorbell rang. My stomach rolled over with excitement as Devon peered down the hallway to the front door. “Are you expecting someone?” she asked, looking back up at me.
“Uh, not that I recall,” I said. “Do you mind getting it? I have to start the noodles.”
Devon shrugged and started making her way down the hall. I leaned out the archway from the kitchen to peer down the hall after her. She pushed aside some of her stray shoes that were near the front door and then unbolted the lock. I felt like a kid on Christmas morning as she slowly turned the handle.
When the door was halfway open, I made my way down the hall. I didn’t want to watch from a distance. I wanted to see the moment up close and personal.
Heather was standing at the threshold. She was wearing the same plaid scarf
she had on earlier, and the rest of her winter ensemble was black. She stood with her hands clasped tightly in front of her. Her purse slid off her shoulder, and she awkwardly tried to pull it back up. It got caught on her sleeve and fell again.
“Hi,” Heather said rather miserably.
“Hi,” Devon whispered back.
Then Heather started crying. It wasn’t the kind of crying I was expecting. All the rom coms had depicted women tearing up and then pulling each other in for a hug. This crying was violent and gut-wrenching. This was the horrible kind of crying that made me want to shrink away and hide until it was over.
Devon started up too. My throat ached.
“I’m sorry for ignoring you for so long,” Heather started.
“It’s okay,” Devon said. “I shouldn’t have lied. I’ve missed you.”
“I missed you too,” Heather said.
Then Heather was throwing herself through the door, and the two of them were clinging to one another for dear life while sobbing sloppy apologies into each other’s shoulders.
“Holy hell,” I breathed, leaning against the wall and crossing my arms. “It’s about fucking time.”
Heather and Devon broke apart and stared at me. Heather was giving me that all too familiar “shut your piehole” little-sister glare while Devon was beaming from ear to ear.
“Did you arrange this?” Devon asked.
I shrugged and headed back to the kitchen. “Come on, dinner will be ready soon. Let’s crack a bottle of wine—at least, Heather and I will—and catch up. We have a lot of time to make up for.”
The women followed me back into the house, and we spent the evening doing exactly what I hoped we would. Heather asked hundreds, if not thousands, of questions about the baby, and when I pulled out the ultrasound photos, she started crying. I wasn’t very fond of this new and unrelenting routine of tears.
