The Baby Bump

by Tara Wylde

  Ryan chuckles. “I love the way you move,” he says, his breath hot against my skin. “Each shimmy turns me on.”

  His mouth drifts lower, to the top of my breast bone. My hips buck and twist. Each time his lips brush my skin, it drives me just a little more crazy.

  Wanting to drive him as insane as he’s making me, I move my hand, reaching for his lap.

  I manage to stroke his cock once through the material of his slacks before he catches hold of my wrist.

  “Oh no,” he growls, the sound raising delighted goosebumps on my skin. He roughly, sensually lifts my hand over my head, holding it against the pillow. “Not yet.” He catches hold of the other one and lifts it so that he can hold both of my hands in place with one of his. “It’s my turn to play.”

  He punctuates the statement by bending low and catching my nipple between his teeth. The action causes it to go diamond hard in his mouth.

  My captured hands form into tight fists, the nails digging deep crescents into my palms.

  “Ryan,” I moan.

  “Shh,” he mutters around my nipple. “I’ve been fantasizing about this moment from the second I saw you at the catering shop. Probably sooner.”

  His tongue flicks back and forth over the pebbled flesh as his free hand grapples with my dress, working the bodice down around my waist.

  “Lift,” he demands.

  I don’t need to be asked twice. I dig my heels into the mattress, bowing my back and lifting my hips up and off the mattress, enabling him to push the dress down to my ankles. I scissor my legs, sending the beautiful dress sailing halfway across the room.

  Ryan’s free hand nudges the elastic waistband of my panties to the side, the fingers sliding past it. My thighs fall apart, granting him easy access as his thumb finds and circles my clit. The ache that’s been steadily growing since we kissed on the dance floor intensifies. As his fingers slide between my folds, teasing and tugging on them, jolts that are stronger than anything my rabbit has created rocket through me.

  His mouth shifts from one nipple to the next while he strokes me.

  Feeling desperate, I writhe against him, jerking my hands, trying to free myself from his grasp. My need to touch him is even stronger than my need to draw my next breath.

  Unable to break his strong grip, I lean forward and catch hold of his earlobe, nipping sharply at it as I draw it into my mouth.

  Ryan gasps and stiffens. His magic fingers still and he moves his head, tugging his ear free as he stares into my eyes.

  I shrink back against the pillows. “Too much?”

  “No.” Looking dazed, he shakes his head. “It’s just … I’ve never … wow.”

  I grin and take advantage of his distraction to free my hands. I loop my arms around his neck. “I like wow.”

  “Me too,” Ryan agrees before crushing my mouth with his.

  Ryan pulls away and stands. He stares down at me, the expression in his beautiful eyes sending waves of heat cascading through me. Ignoring the moisture coating the fingers that were just seconds before buried between my legs, he loosens his tie and drops it on the ground. His shirt, a few of the buttons already missing, follows.

  The way the light gleams off his skin draws attention to his well-developed pecs and the most mouthwatering abs I’ve ever seen.

  I lick my lips, eager to use them on Ryan the same way he used his on mine.

  Seeing the movement, Ryan chuckles. “Like what you see?”

  “Very much.”

  “Well then, brace yourself, because the view is about to get better.”

  I roll my eyes, pretending to find his boast tiresome. My true reaction is the exact opposite. “Oh goody.”

  I rub my palms together in a parody of someone who can’t wait for a big unveiling, making Ryan laugh.

  He toes off his black wing tip shoes, unfastens his narrow leather belt, and undoes the front of his trousers. Humor flashes in his eyes.

  “Ready?”

  I moisten my lips again and swallow. “Yeah.”

  He waggles his eyebrows. “Are you sure? It’s an impressive sight. You might want to take a minute or two to brace yourself.”

  I giggle and roll my eyes. “Get on with it.”

  “Okay.” He hooks his fingers in the waistband of his trousers. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  With a dramatic flourish, he gives the pants a shove and gravity does the rest, sliding them down his powerful, beautifully shaped legs, leaving Ryan clad in nothing but a pair of charcoal gray silk boxer shorts.

  The front of them is tented out away from his body.

  Once again, Ryan hooks his fingers into the waistband and grins down at me. “Last chance to prepare yourself.”

  “Good grief, Ryan,” I say, impatience and eagerness sharpening my tone. “Move it.”

  “That’s exactly what I intend to do as soon as I get on that bed with you.”

  I grind my teeth together. “Ryan.”

  “Okay, okay, okay.”

  He gives the boxers a push, sending them sliding down his legs to pool around his ankles. He steps out of them and fists his hands on his hips, striking a Superman-like pose.

  “Well?” he says proudly. “What do you think?”

  I look at his cock, standing tall, proud, and thick away from his body.

  I swallow and clutch at the bedspread. “Er …” Before I can finish forming a thought, much less a sentence, the room goes dark.

  Lucy

  “Lucy.” Ryan’s voice sounds like it’s coming from a long way away. “Luce, sweetheart, are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” I squeeze my eyes closed and sit up, too flustered and embarrassed to care that, except for a thin pair of satin panties, I’m naked. “I’m fine.”

  I swing my legs off the side of the bed and rest my forehead on my knees.

  The mattress gives as Ryan sits beside me. He rubs my bare back with a warm hand. “What happened?”

  I’d hoped he wouldn’t ask me that question.

  “One second you were fine, flirty, as turned on as me, and the next, your eyes bugged out of your head and you turned white as a ghost. I thought you were going to pass out.”

  I squeeze my eyes closed and chuckle. “If I was in the middle of a historical romance novel, I’d say I swooned.”

  “Huh?”

  I sit up and tuck my hair behind my ears before grabbing one of the pillows. I put it across my lap, feeling slightly better about having an additional barrier between myself and Ryan.

  “In some of the historical romance novels, when the heroine gets her first glimpse of the hero’s nude body, she’s so overcome by shock that she swoons.”

  “Okay.” Ryan’s tone indicates that he doesn’t understand at all. “And that’s what you just did?”

  “Yes and no.”

  “That’s not an answer,” Ryan mutters. His hand moves higher and he starts stroking my hair, finger combing the strands. I can’t believe how good it feels.

  “Well, when I read those books, I’ve always assumed that swoon was a pretty word for faint. I didn’t faint.”

  “You looked damned close to it though,” Ryan argues. “Maybe your blood pressure is low. When was the last time you had anything to eat? I can call room service, have them send up a pastry, or dinner. Anything you like.”

  I shake my head. “My blood pressure is fine.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  My cheeks flame bright red in a blush that quickly extends to include my entire body. I’ve never been so embarrassed in my entire life. I’d give just about anything to avoid this particular conversation.

  But since I can’t ...

  I nod at his naked lap. “That’s the problem.”

  Ryan

  That’s the problem.

  Lucy’s words reverberate through my head as I stare down at myself. I don’t see anything unusual about it, but I run through a mental check list just in case.

  Two legs? Check.

>   Scars or unsightly disfigurements? Well, there’s a mole on my left thigh that bears a remarkable resemblance to the state of Texas, but I really don’t see how that could upset Lucy.

  Offensive tattoos? Nope. My sleeve is anything but.

  Piercings? Not a single one.

  Cock and balls? My balls are red and maybe a bit on the hairy side, and my cock deflated a little when Lucy’s eyes started rolling to the back of her head, but all things considered, I don’t think they look bad.

  “I don’t get it,” I finally tell Lucy. “What aren’t you saying?”

  I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but Lucy’s face turns even redder. Groaning, she doubles up, pressing her face into the pillow.

  “It’s your dick,” she says, her voice muffled by the pillow.

  “My dick?” I stare at it like it’s going to provide me with answers. Not surprisingly, it doesn’t. “What about it?”

  “It’s huge.”

  “Yeah.” My chest swells up with pride. “I’ve always thought so, but I don’t like to brag.” Plus, I’ve never actually sidled up to other guys and compared dick size.

  Lucy rolls her head to one side and glares up at me with one eyeball. “It’s too big.”

  “I’ve never had any complaints.” And as complaints go, Lucy’s is just plain weird.

  “Oh God,” Lucy groans. “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

  “I don’t even know what it is.”

  Lucy blows out a big sigh. “I’ve never done this before.”

  It’s like my brain has shorted out. I hear her words, I try to process them, but I can’t reach a logical explanation. Is she trying to tell me that … no, that can’t possibly be right.

  “Are you trying to tell me that …” I can’t say the word. It seems too outrageous. Lucy’s attractive. She smells good. And in the short time I’ve known her, she has a fun personality and a passionate nature. There’s no way she hasn’t …

  “I’m a virgin.”

  Lucy

  This is a seriously fucked-up situation.

  I feel as ashamed about admitting that I’m a virgin as I would if I said I was an addict or a felon or that I spent my free time kicking puppies. Which is stupid. There’s nothing fundamentally wrong with being a virgin. When I was in high school, it was a state of being that my parents, teachers, and doctors encouraged.

  And yet, at twenty-six, it feels like a crime.

  “You’re a virgin.” Ryan slowly enunciates the words, like he’s having a difficult time believing them. “An honest to goodness virgin.”

  Seeing no way to avoid the conversation, I decide to tackle it head on.

  I sit up and rearrange the pillow, hugging it against my torso so it covers both my panties and my bare breasts.

  “Depends on what you consider an honest to goodness virgin.”

  Ryan tips his head to one side. “Isn’t it obvious? Virgins haven’t had sex.”

  “Remember the Clinton trial? If that proved anything, it’s that what some people consider sex differs from what other people think. I recently read an article, it had to do with the challenge of classifying rape cases, that pointed out that some judges are having a hard time determining who is and isn’t a virgin. The lines are growing more and more blurred all the time.”

  Ryan doesn’t say anything but gestures for me to continue. I like that he’s letting me take charge of this conversation.

  “I had a boyfriend, a long-term boyfriend, and we did things, made out and went a little farther than what you and I just did, but we never actually had sex. We wanted to wait until we got married. We thought that if we could do that, accomplish something none of our friends managed to do, then it proved that we were meant to be together.”

  Mentioning Lance right now, with a very naked Ryan sitting on the bedside me and the memory of where his hands just were isn’t painful, but it is awkward. The funny thing is, it doesn’t hurt to think about him, not the way I thought it would.

  “And I’ve never had sex, or even really made out, with any other man. Or woman, for that matter. But I have a vibrator and I do use it, so if you classify a virgin as someone whose hymen is still intact…. then I’m not.”

  “In the spirit of complete honesty—” Ryan rests his hands on his knees. I stare at his clean fingernails. “—I’m not as interested in your virginity as I am in how come looking at my penis caused you to react so strongly.”

  I flush. “It’s so big. Lots bigger than my vibrator. I always kinda assumed that was the typical circumference of a male penis. And even with special coating and lubricant, that’s a really tight fit. Sometimes it’s too tight and I have to stop using it because it just hurts too much.”

  I steal a glance at his lap. Even at half mast, his cock scares me. “So, there’s no way in hell that thing is going inside me. It’s too damn big.”

  Lucy

  Ryan throws his head back and laughs. It’s the last reaction I expected.

  “That’s what you’re worried about?” he gasps. “That I’m not going to fit?” Now he’s laughing so hard, he’s all but doubled over.

  I glare at him. “I’m glad you find this so funny.”

  I understand how ridiculous my concerns sound, I really do. They make me sound a little bit like a heroine from a Jane Austen novel, not that any of her heroines ever actually did the deed. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have a good reason to be worried. I’ve read about women who tore and had to be stitched up after sex, and the idea isn't exactly appealing.

  Still clutching the pillow to me, I stand up. “Since this,” I gesture to the bed, “isn’t going to happen, we might as well get dressed and go back down to the party. You can tell Suzie that I’m feeling better.”

  I start to move past him, toward the end of the bed where my dress is laying on the floor.

  “Lucy, wait.” Ryan catches hold of my hand and pulls me down beside him. His dick, the source of our issues, twitches against my thigh.

  Ryan wraps an arm around my waist, holding me in place as I try to squirm away. Ignoring my wriggling, he catches hold of my chin with his free hand and turns my head toward his, placing a soul-shattering kiss on my lips. For a second, I lose myself in the kiss, my concerns dissipating like smoke in a windstorm.

  Taking advantage of my temporary distraction, Ryan slides me off his lap and flat on my back on the mattress in one smooth, unexpected move that jolts me back to my senses.

  “What are you doing?” I demand.

  Ryan covers my body with his and cups my face between his big hands. He places a butterfly soft kiss on the tip of my nose. “Is my dick the only reason you don’t want to go through with this?” He brushes a kiss across my forehead before kissing my eyelids.

  I nod. “I don’t want to get hurt. And it’s so big. Too big.”

  “It’s not,” Ryan says, his tone soothing. “If I promise that I can make it feel good for both of us, do you want to continue?”

  “But my vibrator…”

  “I think the problem with your vibrator is that you’re not actually ready.” He kisses my chin. His hands run up and down my sides, brushing against the outer curve of my breast, dancing close to my panties. With each pass, my muscles grow more relaxed and my resolve weakens. “I’ll make sure you are.”

  I open my eyes and look down. His cock is pressed against my thigh, the bulbous head angled toward me. I can feel it growing larger with each breath I take.

  “It’s never going to fit.”

  “It will if you’d stop staring at it.”

  I snort. Like I can possibly take my eyes off it. “Easier said than done.” The more I try to look elsewhere, the more my gaze is dragged back to it.

  Ryan’s mouth flattens and he gets a faraway look in his eye. “I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to,” he says, and his genuine tone matches his expression. “But if you trust me, I have an idea.”

  I chew on my lower lip. Ryan’s hands ar
e perfectly still, he’s not using touch in an attempt to influence my decision, yet my body is positively humming. Despite my fear, I do want more.

  “And if I don’t like your idea?”

  “All you have to do is say stop, and I will. No pressure. No accusations,” Ryan promises.

  I take a deep breath and make a leap of faith.

  “Okay.”

  Lucy

  My heart pounds so hard I’m afraid it’ll explode. I have no idea what Ryan has in mind, what I’ve gotten myself into.

  A slow, sexy smile spreads across Ryan’s face and he presses a quick, almost chaste, kiss to my lips. “Wonderful.”

  He shifts his torso off mine and leans partway off the bed.

  I frown. “What are you doing?”

  “Looking for something.”

  The only thing I can think of is a condom. The idea ties my stomach up in knots.

  “Got it,” Ryan says. He squirms back onto the mattress. Instead of the condom I’m expecting, he’s holding the dark green tie he took off himself just a few minutes ago.

  My heart hammers even faster.

  “What’s that for?” The blood rushing through my ears makes it hard to hear my own voice.

  “Blindfold,” Ryan says calmly. He puts words to actions, and lays the silk strip over my eyes, sliding one end between the back of my skull and the pillow.

  I shift nervously. “I’m not sure about this.”

  “If you get scared or decide that this isn’t your thing, tell me and I’ll take it off.” Ryan ties the two ends together, sealing me in darkness. “And I’ll take it off.”

  I touch the silk. It’s tight enough that it won’t slip off easily, but not uncomfortable. “Why?”

  “If you can’t see my cock, its size won’t bother you.”

  Sound reasoning, but … “Wouldn’t it be easier to just shut off the lights?”

  “Mmm.” Ryan startles me by drawing a nipple into his mouth. He swipes his tongue back and forth over the flesh, teasing it into a hard point.