by Amelia Stone
“That is true,” her grandmother grudgingly admitted. “Though Ernesto said his socks were too tight.”
Celia huffed. “That’s because Tío Ernesto gave me the wrong size.”
Abuela laughed softly. “Yes, that sounds like something he would do.” Ernesto, who was also Celia’s boss, weighed three hundred pounds if he was an ounce. But you’d never get him to admit it. Poor, deluded man. No one judged him for being fat. We just didn’t want him to lie about it.
“Okay, well, we’ll let you go, Abuela,” Celia said, raising her voice. “We’ll be back tomorrow afternoon, so you’ll have plenty of time to catch up on your shows.”
Abuela harrumphed. “Uh huh. You just want me to hang up so you can have sex,” she hissed. “You are pregnant, mija. You should not be thinking about these things until after the baby is born.”
“How do you know it wasn’t Todd’s idea?” Celia shot back, throwing me completely under the bus.
I shook my head. Abuela wouldn’t believe that for a second.
“I don’t believe that for a second,” the old woman confirmed.
I laughed. When we were about sixteen, Abuela had accidentally overheard Celia telling Hannah how much she loved sucking my cock. Ever since, she’d believed Celia was some kind of succubus, hell bent on corrupting me. And no one, not even me, could tell her any different.
“Well, anyway,” Celia huffed, “I’m hanging up now. Love you.”
“Love you, too, mija,” Abuela said. “Be good to my Todd.”
“Oh, I plan to,” Celia replied, her dark eyes heated as she smiled at me.
And with that, she abruptly hung up, which would probably earn her a lecture from her grandmother about proper phone etiquette. She blithely tossed the phone onto the dresser, padding over to where I was sitting on the bed.
“Finally,” she breathed. “I thought I was gonna have to tell her to go fuck herself.”
I chuckled. “You’d never say that to your grandmother.” Celia had a healthy respect for the woman who’d raised her. In fact, for all her shit-talking, my wife was secretly a marshmallow on the inside. You just had to be very patient to get to her gooey center.
She leaned forward, pulling my face into her hands and kissing me softly. “I’m tired of talking about my grandmother. Let’s fuck.”
I smiled. Right to the point, as always. “Anything for you.” I reached my hands up, rubbing her breasts through the lace cups of her bra. Her head tipped back, her long, dark hair falling like a curtain to her waist. “What do you want this time? Spooning?” She normally loved that one, since she got to lay on her side, fully supporting both her back and the baby.
She hummed. “Sounds perfect. But I want to take a shower first.” She wrinkled her nose. “All those fuckers touched me today. I feel gross.”
I smiled as I stood up. She loved ‘those fuckers,’ and we both knew it. But I wasn’t about to risk her wrath by pointing that out.
“You’re fucking perfect,” I assured her. “But if you want a shower, you get a shower.”
Her eyes fluttered closed, her lashes fanning across her caramel-colored cheeks. “You’re fucking perfect,” she countered, pressing her lips to my chest.
We kissed each other slowly, taking our time as we finished undressing, casting our underwear all over the floor. Then I guided her to the huge en-suite bathroom. We stepped into the marble shower, and I turned the water on, mindful of the temperature. Cee got overheated easily when she was pregnant, but I still needed to make sure she was warm enough. The last thing she needed right now was to run a fever.
We stood under the spray for a couple of minutes, just relaxing, taking our time to enjoy the warm water. Once I was sure she was nice and relaxed, I got down to business. I washed her hair first, massaging her scalp thoroughly. She tipped her head back again, resting it against my chest and smiling up at me.
“Love it when you do that,” she whimpered.
I hummed, turning us so her head was under the spray. I rinsed all the suds away, then squeezed the excess water from her hair. Finally, I palmed some of her lemon-mint conditioner, massaging it in from her roots to her tips, patiently working out all the tangles.
She sighed. “You wash my hair better than I do, you bastard.” But she smiled again.
I bent to kiss her forehead. “Love your hair,” I murmured. It was one of my favorite things about her, watching all the dark, lustrous strands tumbling down her back when we made love. “Want to take care of it.”
She hummed again, turning again to let me rinse the conditioner out. Then I soaped up my hands and began to wash her. I lathered every inch of her, massaging her tired, achy joints, teasing her stiff nipples, smoothing my hands over her belly, over our baby. When she was finally clean and rinsed, I moved my hands down her belly, diving underneath it, snaking my hand between her legs.
“Yes,” she hissed as my fingers found her slick center, and I teased her for a moment before pushing two fingers inside her. She normally didn’t like a ton of foreplay, since she was blunt enough to just ask for sex when she was ready to go. But she loved my fingers inside her, and I could usually bring her to orgasm at least once before I fucked her.
“Ungh. More,” she pleaded, pushing back on my hand. So I pumped into her faster, rubbing my thumb over her clit. “Yeah, that’s it, right fucking there,” she cried as I flexed my fingertips, hitting that soft patch on her inner walls. She clutched my arm as she came, convulsing around me, her nails digging into my skin. When she was done, she sagged against me, her head lolling. Blissed out.
I grinned. “Good?”
She practically purred with contentment, and my chest puffed up. She made me feel ten feet tall when she was fully satisfied like this. “The best. Every damn time.” Her eyes popped open. “Now take me to bed and fuck me.”
I grabbed a towel, drying both of us quickly. “Come on,” I grunted, pulling her toward the bedroom. I was hard as a fucking rock after that steamy shower. I needed to get inside her – now.
“Wait a sec,” she said from behind me. I turned, raising an eyebrow. She was staring down to where a small puddle had formed under her. She looked up at me, holding her hand out. “Gimme the towel. You didn’t dry me enough.”
I handed it to her, and she wiped herself thoroughly. “Here,” she said, handing it back to me. “Get the floor, so we don’t slip.”
She stepped back, and I knelt, wiping the floor down quickly. But then I stopped, frowning. I’d cleaned up the puddle, but there were still little dribbles all along the floor, leading back to where she was now standing. I looked up at her, watching as drops of clear liquid dripped from her pussy.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, following my gaze. But of course she couldn’t see over her belly, so she stepped back, bending to look. She frowned at the drops, reaching between herself and catching some of the liquid on her fingertips. Then she sniffed her fingers. Her eyes widened as she looked back at me.
“What is it?” I asked. “Did you pee?” This was her third pregnancy now, and her bladder was sometimes out of the range of her control.
“Motherfucker,” she whispered.
“Cee.” I stood, gripping her shoulders, feeling a little panicked now. “What is it?”
She looked up at me, her dark eyes blinking dazedly. She shook her head slowly. “My water broke.”
THE END
(Or is it? Turn the page and see!)
“Knock, knock,” I called softly as I cruised into the hospital room. I’d made it here in no time at all, since my doctor’s appointment was right across the street, on the other side of the medical complex.
But I didn’t really want to think about that appointment right now. I had no clue what I was going to do with the info I’d been given, so it was better to just put it out of my mind for now.
Six smiling faces greeted me from around the room, all of them looking all kinds of exhausted. Seemed everyone had an eventful night.
&nbs
p; “Hey!” everyone called out.
I gave a general wave, then headed straight for the bed, where Celia was reclining. Todd sat next to her, and their hands were intertwined as they rested in her lap. I felt a weird stab of longing as I looked at them, but I quickly stifled it, giving them a huge smile.
“Congratulations!” I bent to give each of them a kiss on the cheek. “Now where’s Auntie Sabine’s goddaughter?”
Celia laughed tiredly. “Yeah right. You’re not Catholic. Abuela would kill me.”
I shrugged, grinning back at her. “Eh. Worth a try.”
Everyone chuckled as I looked around the room again. “Are you even allowed to have this many people in the room right now?” I asked.
Celia chuckled. “The nurse bent the rules for us.”
“Yeah, because she thinks Todd is Armie Hammer,” my cousin Sam explained.
I laughed. “It’s a common mistake.”
Todd shrugged, but his cheeks flushed as he smiled.
I took another look around, and my cousin, Hannah, beckoned to me from a rocker in the corner. Now I could see that her arms were filled with a tiny bundle of joy. “Come meet Alicia Maria Ruiz-Carter,” she said.
I laughed, shooting Celia another grin. “That’s not a mouthful at all.”
Celia shot me a one-fingered salute. “Bite me, Baptiste,” she growled. But her threat wasn’t all that menacing, since she let out a huge yawn in the middle of it.
I smiled as I crossed to Hannah. “Hi, baby,” I crooned, lifting her out of my cousin’s arms. Then I turned, pacing toward the window to get a better look. “My goodness, aren’t you beautiful?” She had a thick shock of silky dark hair, and her eyes were blue like Todd’s as she peeked up at me serenely from inside her pink knitted blanket.
“Yeah, we make pretty babies,” Celia said, beaming at her husband.
He nodded happily. “Good day’s work,” he grunted, picking up his wife’s hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. Once again I felt a weird bout of jealousy, but I pushed it away. Must be my hormones going crazy or some shit.
“Yeah, too bad Jamy and Sam stole your thunder, though,” Brian teased.
“Oh, whatever,” Jamy retorted, but her cheeks were burning with embarrassment.
“What happened?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“We got engaged,” Sam answered, flashing us a smug smile.
“No shit?” I grinned at them. “You finally pulled the trigger, huh, cous?”
Brian chuckled, and Hannah gave me a mischievous smile. “No, she asked him.”
I stared at them for a minute, not believing it. My friend and roommate was notoriously shy and retiring. But Jamy’s mortified expression told me my cousin was telling the truth. I threw my head back in a laugh, and everyone joined me.
But our laughter set little Alicia into a crying fit. Celia held her arms out to take her daughter back, but I shook my head.
“I got this,” I assured her. I bounced the baby in my arms, humming random notes. She quieted down immediately, staring up at me adoringly with those big blue eyes, so I continued to hum. After a couple of minutes, the tune took shape, and I started to sing, working my way through one of my mother’s favorite songs.
“So hush, little baby, don’t you cry,” I finished, smiling as her eyes fluttered close.
I watched her sleep for a few moments before I realized that all sound had fled the room. You could hear a pin drop, and I looked around to see everyone was staring, looking as dazed as baby Alicia.
Todd broke the silence first, clearing his throat. “What song was that?”
I smiled. “‘Summertime.’” I’d always thought of it as the perfect lullaby. Between that, and all the good memories attached to it, it was easily a favorite of mine, too.
Celia grinned at me. “You’re good with her.”
I looked down at baby Alicia, feeling a little bubble of unease ripple through my belly. “I guess I have to be. I need to get used to this,” I whispered, just loud enough for only her to hear. “Maybe,” I hedged, biting my lip. “I don’t know.”
“Why do you say that?” Jamy asked, and I jumped. Shit. I didn’t think anyone could hear me.
“Sabine?” she asked. “You okay?”
I took a deep breath, looking around the room at my closest friends. I had to tell them, I guess. I had to tell someone. I sucked at keeping secrets. And they’d find out soon enough, anyway. Because holding baby Alicia in my arms had cleared my mind, solidified my disparate thoughts into a decision.
“I’m fine,” I said. “Actually, I’m better than fine.” I took another deep breath, snuggling the baby closer. “I’m pregnant.”
THE END
(For real this time.)
Acknowledgments
A book is never the work of just one person. This one goes out to all the people who helped make it happen.
Thank you as always to the most insightful, most amazing, and most beautiful beta readers in the whole wide world, even if I didn’t use you this time. Amy Lyn, Amy M., Alicia, Jamy, and sometimes Kevin, you’re kinda the best.
Thank you to Jamy and Sam Kevin, who sheltered me, supported me, and kept me in snacks. You guys are unequivocally the best.
Thank you to the Harlot Authors for being so generous with your time, expertise, support, and solidarity. You make me feel less alone in this.
Thank you to Cassie-Ann L Miller for generously spotlighting Jamy and Sam to your readers.
Thank you to my StoneHearts for being the best fans and readers around.
And thank you, finally, to all the wonderful people who have reviewed my books. You’re all my heroes.
Amelia Stone is the author of the Time for Love series. She knew at the age of five that she wanted to be a writer, and she wrote and illustrated her first book in the third grade. (It was about kittens, of course.) When she’s not writing, she can usually be found eating Mexican food, listening to New Wave music, or attempting to co-opt someone else’s dog. She lives in Michigan with roommates.
Join our Facebook group, Heart of Stone!
Keep up with Amelia around the web:
Amazon
Instagram
Facebook
Twitter
Also by Amelia Stone
A Time For Love:
One More Time
The First Time
Moments in Time
Time After Time – coming soon!
