by Hazel Parker
“I’m ready,” I murmured into his mouth, reaching again for him, urgently wanting him to relieve the built up ache inside me.
“Are you sure?” James asked with tender concern.
The cocky, brazen lover of the office had been replaced by a tender, considerate lover. I loved both equally, wanted both equally. I needed to guide James into finding his style in the new context of my swelling stomach and tender breasts.
I turned on my side and motioned for James to spoon me, “We can do it like this,” I said with direction.
James kissed my neck and ears and moved into position behind me. My body heavy and awkward, his strong and muscled. Soft and taut, strong and firm. We found our fit and James brought his cock to the entrance of me and pushed in with a firm, seeking thrust. I moaned and grabbed his hands and brought them to my swollen breasts; they just needed to be touched.
“That’s it, Sasha,” James whispered in my ears, “feel your senator giving you what you need, filling that ache.”
I moaned and pushed back on him, my rounder ass pushing softness against him that caused him to cry out in pleasure at the sensations of my changed body. We found our rhythm, a new rhythm, and began to make love. His thick cock stroked in and out of me, taking and giving pleasure. I thrilled to the familiar feel of being filled, being stretched. I felt filled over all, with swollen breasts, belly, and ass, and a swollen member inside of me.
James rocked his body back and forth with mine, thrusting his cock in and out of me steadily. Not teasing this time, but giving. Giving to me a release from the ache of desire and for him the release of built up frustration over missing me. He kissed me throughout, on my shoulders, my back, my neck, my ears. It sent shivers up and down my spine and into parts of me that hadn’t felt that way months ago in his office. Everything had changed in my body; it was like having sex for the first time, but with someone whose body I knew.
Our cries of pleasure mingled together in the air. He gripped me tighter, his hand firmly across my belly as he picked up the pace of his thrusts, taking me firmer, harder. I cried out in pleasure, enjoying it, comfortable in myself and my secret pregnancy. He took me over and over, growing in confidence at my evident pleasure.
He cried into my ear, “I can’t wait any longer…I have to.”
And he reached around, reached beneath my roundness to my private space. His fingers found my clit and began to rub it like he had discovered how back in his office. He plunged his cock in and out of me as he insistently rubbed me to climax, causing me to buck back against him heavily and cry out in long-denied pleasure.
“That’s it,” he encouraged as he felt the pleasure run through me.
He took me then, hard, wanting, with determination for his own release. His cock thrusted in and out, in and out until he gripped me tight to him, one hand on my breast, one on my hip, and he released into me, released what months ago had put a secret baby in me. The joy from him was obvious, from his groan of satisfaction to the pleasure I felt course through his body.
He shifted his body out of mine and I sat up to turn around to face him. Every movement was a new one, compared to before. No longer was I a limber, young thing who could flip around to face a lover. We snuggled in bed, looking at each other. My belly sat between us and James stroked it softly, hoping to feel a kick again from his baby.
He stroked my roundness as he spoke. “You don’t need to keep this a secret, Sasha. This is our baby and the baby was made when two people connected. There is nothing wrong with that.”
I shut my eyes for a moment, the pain of the last lonely few months returning, “James, you say that from a position of power and wealth. People may forgive your scandals. I thought it was best to stay quiet to protect your career as well as mine. But staying with me and committing to this baby is quite different.”
James raised an eyebrow and looked puzzled, “How so?”
I sighed and grabbed his hand to put on my belly, “Well, I’m not your kind. You’re a senator, I am the daughter of a welder and nurse. Ivy League versus community college. You’re meant to date models and then wind up with a society beauty who is classy and perfect by your side.”
James laughed and my feelings felt injured, “Oh, Sasha, that may be the way for some in my world, but not for me. My parents have one of those kinds of marriages and they are miserable. I never wanted that for myself, some trophy wife and fake marriage. I’ll date whom I want, thank you, and that someone is you.”
Joy and relief flooded through me, everything I had been holding back. This was more than a fantasy realized, this was a life becoming real. A baby. A lover. A life together. A secret no more.
James moved down the bed and kissed my belly and looked up at me, “Sasha, will you marry me?”
Taken back by his question, my heart soared, “Yes, James, of course I will!”
James grinned and dropped kisses all over my round belly, where our baby lay curled up inside, safe in the knowledge it was a secret no longer.
I pulled James up to me for a lingering kiss, before breaking off, “It’s a boy.”
James smiled, ecstatic. “A mini me! You can have the next mini me, a girl.”
I laughed, taken aback, “Are you planning baby two before we have even married or seen the arrival of number one?”
James laughed wickedly, “Hey, I’m a politician, I have big plans and I plan ahead. First stop, senator, next stop, the White House. First stop, a mini me for me, next one for you, and the third one can be for the nation.”
I laughed and kissed my man, knowing all was going to be right in the world for the three of us.
THE END
Sweet Release
MACY
I sorted through the few, remaining memos on my desk, searching for some work to help pass the time. Coming up empty, I sighed. Yet another to-do list completed before lunch. Yet another glaringly obvious sign that I was overqualified for this position.
Not a huge surprise, though. I’d figured as much when I applied for the job six months ago but at the time it was more about getting back on my feet than finding something perfectly suited. I’d left perfect far behind in my old life. Perfect wasn’t all it cracked up to be.
I was always expected to be the smart daughter, the loyal girlfriend, the dependable employee. But, little by little, things unraveled until I found myself here in this glorified secretary position, thanking the universe for my foresight to cushion my savings account while things were still good. Though at the time it was a nest egg for a house or a new car. I’d never expected my life to take such a sharp detour.
And I’d never expected someone like Brenn Michaels to be into someone like me.
But he was.
I could tell by the way he watched me from his open door while I bustled around in the outer office. I could tell by the way he leaned in close over my shoulder while going over his daily schedule. I could definitely tell by the way his eyes would drift over my body. And if there was any question left in my mind, then that time in the boardroom sealed the deal.
And a few months ago when I found out I was pregnant, it wasn’t the deal breaker I was expecting it to be. I assumed once I started to show and my body started changing he would back off and we’d morph back into a mostly professional, albeit awkward, relationship again.
Not the case.
The bump could no longer be hidden under an extra layer, but Brenn’s interest hadn’t waned. Not yet, anyways. Just the opposite; he seemed drawn to my new curves. His mouth no longer nibbled at my tits, but feasted.
And I tried my best to ignore the way his hands floated, lingered, over my stomach. I resisted the urge to flinch away from his attention, not yet accustomed myself with the unfamiliarity of my own body. If he noticed my hesitation, he was good at hiding it.
I’d spent a lot of time, too much time, wondering why someone like Brenn would be interested in me and my baggage. He’s smart enough to run this business, which from everything I knew w
as successful. He’s able to speak in full and complete sentences around a woman. And good god, he’s handsome and definitely knows his way around a vagina, so no problems there.
Why in the hell he was with a woman who, after learning her boyfriend was a cheater and her parents would rather see her married than happy, quit her well-paying job as a nurse, packed as much as she could into her tiny car, and ran, was beyond me.
And really, at this point in my life where I’d made so many bad decisions, Brenn hardly seemed like the worst thing. Even if I didn’t fully understand his interest in me, I trusted him and that wasn’t something I could say about many people. I would take his cute, tailored-suit-clad ass for as long as he’d have me.
And not because I loved him. Not at all. Because admitting that would be one of the worst decisions I could make. A one-way ticket to disaster. Six months in and one baby on the way was the absolute wrong time to explore those thoughts.
My stomach rumbled, a jack hammer pounding against me, jumbling my thoughts, and I looked at the clock. Lunch time.
Brenn’s door was closed. The little light on my phone indicating he was still talking to Mr. Merrell. I leaned back in my chair to peer through the glass transom that bordered his office door. His brow was etched in thought, hand rubbing the back of his neck.
His serious face. Shaking his head and talking into the phone, brows pushed together, I could hear the tone of his voice in my head, the deep rumble as he bit out commands and I felt a hunger for something much better than anything the cafeteria had to offer.
Yep. Definitely not smitten.
My body ached like some kind of Pavlovian conditioning. Noon on the clock signaled a locked door and an hour of privacy with Brenn. I glanced again at that light on my phone and cursed these damn hormones for making me ache for him. Shameless.
My stomach rumbled again and I sighed, resigning myself to the fact that the baby was going to win this round. I closed my eyes and practiced a few, deep breaths to stymie the throb that pulsed between my legs before grabbing my purse and heading down to the cafeteria.
Brenn’s company, which he co-owned and ran the day to day, held two floors in the building. The remaining floors were owned by other companies with a shared, independently owned cafeteria in the middle. This job was miles from working at the hospitals and clinics I was used to, but cafeteria food remained the same.
Stepping through the doors, I scanned the message board for today’s menu and groaned at the all too familiar sensation. How can soup make me nauseous? Grabbing a dinner roll, an apple juice, and a couple packets of individually packaged cheese, I turned to find a table.
From the far end of the room an arm shot up and I moved toward the friendly face.
“I haven’t seen you in the cafeteria in weeks. I was beginning to wonder if I should call in a search party.” My friend Alison smiled at me from across the table.
I’d met Alison my first day here. Though she worked a few floors above me for an investment firm, she seemed to know the gossip throughout the whole building. An invaluable ally turned great friend when I needed one the most. Seeing her was my second favorite time of the day.
“Sorry,” I said around a mouthful of bread. “Busy with work.”
“I call bullshit, but I’ll let it slide. Only because it looks like you might eat me if I disagree with you,” she said, eyeing my random collection of food and the mouthful I was working on.
I swallowed and cracked my juice before answering her. “Ugh, I know. I can’t help it, though. It’s like my body has a mind of its own.”
“Now if you would have told me you’d been busy getting ready for that impending mind-of-its-own, I would have believed you.”
I cringed. Truth was I hadn’t done much to prepare myself yet. And it wasn’t like I could put it off. It was happening. It was easy to forget what was coming at first, but now, with my first pair of maternity pants sitting in my closet and a pint of cherry-chocolate ice cream calling my name from the dessert fridge, there was little room for me to be procrastinating anymore.
“I wish that were the case,” I said, unwrapping a piece of cheese.
“Why don’t we head to that cute, little boutique over on Monroe this weekend? Might get you in the spirit of things.”
I shook my head. “I can’t this weekend. It’s the Stakeholders Gala on Saturday.”
“What about Sunday, then?”
“I’ll be running around all day today and into the night Saturday for the Gala, so I’m thinking that Sunday will be filled with my new favorite hobby: sleeping.”
“I don’t know much about babies and I can appreciate the minimalist approach, but I think at the very least you’ll have to find a place for it to sleep. And I’m guessing there are other things out there that are considered necessities.”
“You’re probably right. I should read a book or something. I just can’t seem to find the time. Or energy.” I reached for another piece of cheese and frowned when I realized there were only wrappers left. I balled them up and tossed them onto Alison’s tray. I leaned back in my chair and shook my head. “What’s wrong with me?”
“Maybe it’s that nice piece of distraction that’s looking at you like you’re the last pork chop in the buffet.” Alison motioned behind me with her carrot stick.
I followed her eyes to the door where Brenn was standing, looking amazing in his charcoal suit, and every bit as hungry as I felt. The fact that he couldn’t wait for me to get back upstairs echoed my own urgency. My body warmed under his gaze even from across the busy room and I stamped my foot against the hitch in my breath, against the flutter I felt when our eyes met.
Shit. I definitely, absolutely wasn’t in love with Brenn Michaels.
BRENN
I watched her stand, leaving behind her food and her friend. I could read the desire in the half-hooded look in her eyes, the way they never left mine.
“Ms. Sinclair,” I said by way of a greeting.
She simply nodded, but her smile gave her away. She loved playing the employee to my boss, the taboo of it, though it was a farce at this point. Something that got us both off in the beginning, now was just a reminder of how far we’d come.
We’d moved so far from those little games and denials that it seemed like forever ago that we were just messing around behind my locked door. I think we were both surprised that things had progressed from that.
Truth was I was tired of playing games. I wanted something real, permanent. Something I never had before. I would give Macy anything, but she steadfastly held onto that wall, determined not to sacrifice her whole self to me. I could see that wall wavering, but my stubborn girl held tight anyways.
We walked in silence, and I could sense her anticipation. We had made it to the elevators and the doors closed us into an unusually empty car. She was playing with the bracelet at her slender wrist, waiting for me to make a move.
Because there may have been a time or two when I stopped the elevator, rucked up her skirt, tucked my fingers inside her, and made her come. And that’s just what she was hoping for. But not today. Today I wanted her as impatient for me as I was for her.
After being together for months, spending the day working together and the nights tangled in each other, it never got old. Macy had a mouth that kept me on my toes and a body that I worshipped. She loved to play, loved exploring that hidden, dark side that her asshole ex fiancé never cared to indulge. But I loved it. I loved her.
The elevator chimed and doors opened to our floor.
We made short work of getting through the deserted floor and back to my office. With the door locked behind us, I didn’t care to hold myself back any longer. I couldn’t have even if I’d wanted to. My hands gripped her ribcage and I pulled her into me, letting her soft scent and soft curves soothe all my edges.
“I waited all morning to run my hands over your skin,” I said against the shell of her ear before brushing a kiss over it.
Macy’s lips expl
ored my neck, my chin, before nipping at my earlobe. I groaned, her teeth driving me fucking wild when she did that. I pulled her away to see a smile that told me she knew exactly what that did to me. I fixed her with my best stare, but it only made her laugh.
“You’re walking a dangerous line, woman. I don’t think you realize how much restraint I have to exercise to keep from bending you over my desk and volleying your little ass with my hand.”
“Or maybe I know just what I’m doing,” she said, the desire in her eyes a powerful aphrodisiac.
My hands started a path up her body, no longer able to take their time. Maybe a couple months ago I would have run them down over her tight, little ass, but I had to get my taste of those tits that had been taunting me all morning. Macy hadn’t gotten used to her body like this, but I fucking loved it.
