by Hazel Parker
“How do I look?”
I looked up. I had been scribbling when Julie’s voice drifted through my mind, but now my hand stopped as I took her in.
She was wearing a pale blue dress that sparkled when she moved and hugged her upper curves—particularly her breasts, which looked snug, with a beautiful amount of cleavage showing. Either I was crazy, or her breasts seemed to be getting…bigger and bigger.
My mouth went dry at the thought and I had to consciously swallow. My gaze then trailed down to where the snugness stopped—just below those tits, where it flowed and stopped at her feet, where silver shoes peeked out. Her hair was up in a simple bun, and her face had light makeup, which she didn’t even need, because she was absolutely glowing.
I forced myself to act all casual, maybe even critical.
“You look like you’re about to order some knight to get out their sword so you can take over the throne,” I said.
She seemed pleased by my assessment, a small smile blooming on her pink-painted mouth. It looked sensual and absolutely kissable, making me remember the impromptu kiss on the race track. That was three weeks ago.
And that was three weeks—no, almost a month—of obsessing over it.
“I bet I’m your best date for this gala, McCall,” she teased. I didn’t know what happened between us, but the awkwardness seemed to ease off day by day, to be replaced by our easy camaraderie before things got too complicated. I liked this teasing and this closeness, except I wasn’t really sure I was liking the closeness that much because it tempted me to do…things.
And Lord knew you weren’t supposed to do things to a pregnant woman.
“Yeah, yeah,” I said dismissively. “You forgot your crown, princess.”
“Queen,” she corrected. She said it so haughtily that I couldn’t help but grin. Queen, indeed. I stood up from the couch and held out my hand.
“Come on; we don’t want to be late.”
“You like being late and getting noticed,” she pointed out.
I pretended to think it over. “Hmm. Now that’s a good point.”
Julie elbowed me and giggled. Still grinning, I tugged on that warm hand and told her we could be a few minutes late.
Besides, with how positively radiant she looked, I didn’t think the attention would be on me tonight.
*****
The annual charity gala for athletes all across Florida was usually held at the same hotel in Daytona, and I’d never brought the same date twice. I guess the press loved that, especially since I always kept my dating life—or the lack of it—secret and never let on who was the current woman I was sleeping with. That was me—the womanizer with some class. It was probably why I had a lot of those so-called sleeping offers in the first place, because everyone knew I wouldn’t blab. The press always anticipated my arrival with a new woman on my arm, and I rebelled in my own way by being always late and never giving a damn about their comments to the point of completely ignoring them.
Tonight, of course, was completely different. I was coming with my wife.
We weren’t late at all, since Julie wanted to be early as she was excited about the food. Her switch to hating chocolates, to not eating a lot, to suddenly wanting to eat everything, was very amusing so I humored her and got us there on time. If anything, it seemed to shock the media more as they took pictures of us before we entered the venue. As predicted, Julie’s outfit blew their minds and I knew she was going to be in the papers before the story was even being written.
Her eyes scanned the room when we got in. Then they lit up.
“Dad!”
Jack was on us right away, wearing a slick black tuxedo and hugging his daughter tight. There was no missing the affection in his gaze as they talked in murmurs, with the man asking how his precious girl was doing and Julie assuring him that she was doing great.
Then that gaze turned to me, and the affection turned to wariness.
“Jack,” I said calmly.
He nodded. “Scott,” he said evenly. “I hope you’re treating my Jules good.”
I nodded back. “Of course. Always the best for her.”
“I’m right here, you know,” Julie said, rolling her eyes. She was trying to lighten up the scene, and I did my best to hold back whatever I was about to say. Jack did, too.
Things had changed between us since the pregnancy and the discovery. Jack wasn’t outwardly cold or angry, but I could tell the friendship had taken a different turn. He used to be so warm with me and would always ask me what I did, but now there was none of that as he treated me as a mere acquaintance. Thankfully, he had some mingling to do and left us alone after the little chitchat.
I had a feeling what Jack was doing—or rather, how he was acting—wasn’t personal, and I didn’t take it as such. She was his only child after all, and it was his protective instincts coming out as he went all papa bear. He’d probably act the same to whomever Julie was going to marry in the future.
Suddenly the thought of her having a new husband bothered me. Whoever that person was would also be a part of my child’s life, and I didn’t want some punk hurting them both.
Setting aside the thoughts for now, I did some mingling of my own and tugged Julie along with me. She was shy at first, and I could tell she wasn’t really used to this kind of scene. But everyone was extra friendly because of my connection—and hers with her father—and soon she was smiling and responding to questions.
By the time dinner was served she had basically charmed everyone in the room and was obviously enjoying herself while doing so. Everyone expected some grand romance and we had both decided to, prior to tonight, keep it at a minimal.
But there was nothing minimal with how she leaned to whisper something funny in my ear, her hot breath making my body all warm and bombarding me with images of what that mouth could do.
There certainly was nothing minimal with how I touched her from time to time—a hand on her lower back, sliding her hair behind her ear, whispering back in low tones. I couldn’t help it—it was like she was some damn flame and I was the moth, tempted beyond reason.
I still wanted her, and it wasn’t going away. But I had dismissed my earlier resolve to actually sleep with her, terrified it would harm the baby. Julie herself wasn’t making any moves on me—and I knew her enough to know she was often always obvious with what she wanted, just like when she’d demanded that practice kiss or tried to seduce me.
If a woman wasn’t giving you signals—or was very, very pregnant—then there wasn’t much you could do except try to keep your hands off her.
And jack off at night. Alone.
“The food’s bleh,” she muttered, picking at her roasted veal. I had to admit it wasn’t as good as last year, but the worry that hit me was all too intense.
“Is your stomach hurting you? Are you nauseous?”
“I’m fine,” she assured, looking around. Her small smile stilled.
“Jules?”
“My father keeps looking at us.”
At first, the thought amused me. Now it just irritated me, because it was like he still couldn’t believe we ended up together. If her father thought that way, how many other people did? And the media, if they found out…
They would absolutely roast Julie.
I’d had enough of that. I really was trying to keep the interaction minimal, but there was no minimal when it came to a watchful crowd like this. Resolve firm, I turned my head towards Julie.
“Jules?”
“Hmm?” she asked, turning to me expectantly.
I had a few seconds to watch her eyes widen, and the hazel turn to green. Then I was pulling her in for a kiss.
I could still remember every detail of her mouth from our last kiss, and our many kisses before that. I could still remember how intoxicating it was. It was just as intoxicating now, pulling me in body and soul until I could no longer think properly. My mind literally blanked as her mouth opened up for me, and without proper thought, I slid my ton
gue in and tasted her—every hot, wet, addictive bit of her.
Her hands went to my arms, fisting against my tuxedo. Her tongue tangled with mine. She made a tiny sound from her throat, something that was almost like a moan. I swallowed the sound and kept kissing her, wanting nothing more than to drag my mouth across the creamy skin of her throat and suck until her moans increased. Hell, I wanted to drag her out of here and undress her, then proceed to lick every inch of that body that I missed terribly.
Goddamn it.
Instead, I broke the kiss and pulled away, but not before nipping her lower lip. Her breath caught in her throat, creating a soft strangling sound.
I smirked, then leaned down to whisper. “That should appease him.”
Her eyes widened. Then she steadily nodded her head, not saying anything as she looked back at her food. A small smile played on her lips, making them kissable again.
I deduced that smile was because the ploy worked.
It was too bad that I wanted her to smile for a completely different reason.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
JULIE
Scott was driving me crazy.
I was pretty sure he didn’t mean it, but it was happening all the same. It would have been fine if it had been only lust-crazy because I could always deal with that inside my bedroom. But no.
He was also pissing me off every step of the way.
“Didn’t I tell you to get the white rice and not the brown one?”
In response, Scott raised a brow. “Sweetheart, the brown one’s healthy for you.”
“But I want white rice,” I complained.
He began to launch into an explanation of the nutritional value and benefits of the brown rice, and it was then that my already thin patience snapped. I yelled at him for a few seconds and told him I wanted some actual good rice and not the shitty stuff, waving my arms in the air like a crazy woman.
I knew it was my hormones talking, and I was inwardly asking it to behave. But there was none of that as everything seemed to trigger me during my third month of pregnancy, and I found my temper inflating for a good while before all the fight went out of me. Suddenly I was slumping on the couch and miserably eyeing the brown rice and steak he’d cooked, feeling bad and angry at myself.
A normal man would have already argued with me, or maybe left me to my hysterics. But Scott kept surprising me with the patient side he showed—and it was showing again now as he sat down calmly beside me and eyed the plated food.
There was silence for a few seconds before he spoke.
“How about that steak? You don’t like it, either?”
I pouted. “I like it.”
“Hmm.” He tilted his head, studying the food, then studying me. “I want to make a bargain.”
“What bargain?”
“You eat the healthy food I prepared, and you can have some chocolate later.”
I hadn’t had chocolate in weeks and the thought lifted my mood. Suddenly I was no longer miserable as I beamed up at him and eagerly nodded.
“It’s a deal,” I said enthusiastically.
Scott chuckled and I beamed all the more. Then I stilled when he pulled me towards him and kissed my forehead then proceeded to place his warm hand over the bump of my stomach.
“Good girl,” he murmured.
I swear my heart skipped a beat. Oh, God.
The touch was gone as suddenly as it came, and he gave me one more of that devastating smile. Then he was off to the kitchen to get his own meal, returning with it and suggestions on what we could watch. I fired out my favorite movies and we discussed what we wanted to see while eating dinner.
It was all so domesticated. It was also something I told myself not to get used to, because it wasn’t going to last long.
*****
By the time the fourth month came, Scott was still driving me crazy—lust-crazy this time.
I didn’t know prior to the doctor telling me that there were some times in a pregnancy that a woman felt particularly high on an emotion—and this time, that emotion was pure sexual desire. I was hornier than horny, lusting over hot men I saw on magazines or read about in romance novels.
Most of all, I was horny for Scott.
It was the little things: the way he walked around the house, comfortable in sweatpants and showing his fantastic, firm ass. The way he lifted weights in the makeshift gym, his muscles bulging with every movement and the way he removed his shirt and had me practically salivating when he just generally felt hot around the house.
God, I wanted to throw a vase at him. I also wanted to jump him.
It was terrible, really, because he’d shown no signs of wanting me, save for the occasional teasing and flirting, which weren’t even personal. I was pregnant and already starting to show a tiny bump, so I knew what the deal was—I was no longer attractive to him. It was just something I had to get used to.
And the only way to get used to it was to keep acting normal around him, without a neon sign of I Want to Touch You flashing on my forehead.
It was Friday, and one of our movie nights. It was something I was always looking forward to, and I wanted to start early so I could sleep early, too. Already picking a movie and bringing the DVD with me, I walked over to his room, intending to knock. But the door was open, and there was no one inside, so I slipped in and looked around until I found a light on the half-open bathroom door.
“Hey, Scott, I…”
The words drifted off as I quietly opened the door.
I froze.
Scott was there, alright. Whereas I’d been expecting him to be shaving or something like that, he was doing something else.
Scott was naked from the waist up, giving me a glimpse of all that tanned, muscled torso and the fine hair that trailed from his stomach and arrowed down. He had his sweatpants down to his thighs, giving me a view of that firm butt I’d been lusting over.
He had his large hand wrapped around his large dick, and he was tugging on it in short, quick jerks.
His eyes were closed, and sounds were coming out of his mouth—soft, low grunts that had my knees going weak and in danger of folding over. I watched as his other hand gripped the sink counter with all his might, as if to brace himself. I watched as he kept tugging at his cock, hardening it further. His tip was already leaking pre-cum, and I was unconsciously licking my lower lip at the sight.
I watched as he quickened his movements, his thighs hardening and his balls swaying.
And then I heard the name come out of his lips—a quiet groan that shot up my body and floated like music to my ears.
“Jules…”
Unbidden, a sound came out of my own mouth—a gasp, which I was able to stop halfway. But it was too late.
His eyes shot up, dark blue piercing mine. I watched the emotions play there, from shock to delight to…hunger. In fact, he looked so hungry, like he wanted to swallow me whole.
“Jules…” he repeated.
I knew I should leave. That I should leave him to his privacy and to his…cock, and just pretend this never happened. But before I knew it, my gaze was back on that magnificent rod, and something throbbed in between my legs in response. I was already so wet.
And I wasn’t going anywhere.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
SCOTT
I had to be in heaven.
It was either that, or Julie really was still standing halfway inside my bathroom, looking at my cock as if it was a piece of lollipop she wanted to suck.
God. Damn. It.
She was pregnant, and she had probably never seen anyone do this, and the best course of action would have been to tell her to go. But instead of doing that, I found myself looking at her instead, watching those hazel eyes focus on what I was doing. She was wearing nothing but her usual sweat shorts and a loose white shirt, and in the bright light, I could see that she was wearing no bra. Her perky tits jutted out, bigger and juicier than ever, with the shadows of her nipples poking through.
&nbs
p; I had been imagining her touching me while I was jerking off earlier, but there was nothing that could compare to the real Julie, in the flesh—and looking like she wasn’t about to leave anytime soon.
“I’m sorry,” I said through gritted teeth. But sorry was the last thing on my mind. “I don’t usually do this.”
“It’s…it’s okay,” she replied softly, her gaze still glued. If anything, it urged me on to slow down my movements and emphasize it, so she could see me better.
I was a complete ass. A bastard, who was taking advantage of a shocked woman.
But I couldn’t stop.
“It’s been a long time for me,” I admitted.
Her gaze flew up at that, clashing with mine. “I thought we’d agreed you’d still date in private.”
“I wasn’t in the mood to date anyone,” I grunted.
Her eyes widened. “So you haven’t had sex since…?”
“Since our last time,” I confirmed.
Her mouth formed a little O, and my cock jumped in response. I stifled a groan and watched her gaze return to my shaft. She opened her mouth again. Licked her lower lip.
And I could no longer stifle my groan.
“Do you want me to help?” she asked in a small voice.
It was like a fucking fantasy come true.
But I shook my head, not wanting to lose control and fuck her sideways without her consent. “Just watch. Just watch me come.”
My pace quickened. I watched as she watched me—no, gobbled me up, watching my hands and my cock and my body, then my face as I reacted to each and every tug. My vision was tunneling, and I imagined that mouth again—this time, swallowing me whole and sucking on me for all she was worth.
It was the last straw.
One last hard stroke, and I erupted. I came violently. I saw my seed land on the sink before I closed my eyes to savor the feeling all the more. I groaned out loud as wave after wave of pleasure came, more intense than anything I’d ever experienced. It was her presence, I knew. It was the trigger that made me helpless, and made me orgasm so fast.
When I opened my eyes, I expected her to still be watching me. But she was no longer there.
