“It said ASK AGAIN LATER. How much later? This would drive me crazy.”
“There’s no set time.” My palms sweated and I stared at the ball. I usually asked right away and the fact that she hadn’t re-asked left me caught in a frenzy of wanting an immediate answer but preferring not to have a negative one. I could only guarantee there wouldn’t be a negative response if she didn’t ask again. Was I going mad?
Glancing up, our eyes met. She’d let her guard down. I’d made an inroad. She didn’t have to ask a toy for guidance, she made her own decisions. I was far from being able to declare a relationship victory, but I saw hope and possibility.
“Ollie, I was crushed when you said you cancelled your tour.”
“Why?”
“It was important, you needed me, and I turned you down.”
I tried to act like my heart wasn’t ripped out, that it had been a simple business decision, as it was with every other musician. “You have a life of your own. If I didn’t have such a reputation for being difficult to work with, I might have more options.”
“You’re not.”
I furrowed my brow.
“You’re the easiest musician I’ve ever played with. If we went on the road together, you’d fly past all of the other candidates the New York Phil’s considering. You probably will anyway.”
I was entirely confused. “So, you were trying to keep me from leaving?”
“Can I be completely honest with you?”
“Please.”
“I was hurt. You said you needed me, and I didn’t want to be the key that helped you unlock the door to success then got tossed aside. I didn’t want to be used.”
“What?”
“I wanted to mean more to you than a ticket to success.”
My mouth dropped open. Shit. My reputation of all business, no pleasure was haunting me. I had to learn how to strike a balance. “That’s not why I asked you. Not so I could shine.”
Her turn to be surprised. “I thought… there was the don’t act weird about sex thing, then Suzie said I was the perfect tool to break your reputation, then you said you wanted me for the tour…”
I dragged my hands over my face. “Fuck. I wanted you on my tour because I wanted to be with you. I needed you because life is pointless without you. And Suzie’s right, you broke me, but in all the necessary ways. I worried I’d scare you off by how badly I wanted to make love to you. That’s why I stopped us from going all the way.”
The percussion guy walked up at the worst possible time and I had to clamp my jaw shut to keep from telling him to fuck off.
“Hey Pinkie, Sorry I’m running a few minutes late, I’ll be out of your way in a second.”
My blood boiled hearing him call her by a nickname, one that embraced her fun side, something I’d been hesitant to do. And the smile she gave him had my possessive side raging. Lobbing the 8-Ball at his head was definitely an option that should only exist in my mind.
“Take your time. Or how about you keep going?”
“You sure? Tips are rolling in today.”
She nodded. “I’m sure.”
My chest swelled. I truly had a chance. The thought of her working for tips evoked entirely different emotions, but I forced myself to remember she had every right to choose her way of life. As long as I was in it. My attempt to be flexible was marginal.
The guy was unaware of how lucky he was I hadn’t reactively pummeled him and the sooner he got back to playing, the better. He casually nodded at me and addressed Fiona, Pinkie. “On it. Let me know if you want to join in.”
She waved at him then returned her attention to me.
Major scores were coming right and left. I had to keep the momentum. But I wasn’t ever going to be able to reduce her to Pinkie. “If I move to New York, I won’t be able to see you, hear you, hold you. I can’t live without those things.” I rubbed her hand and she relaxed. The glorious contact meant far more than anyone would be able to understand.
“But it was your dream. I don’t want to be your regret.”
“You could never be anyone’s regret.”
“The violinist who reamed me after my food poisoning incident would beg to differ.”
“I read about it.” Squeezing her hand, I hoped to convey understanding.
“Great, I suppose you saw the pictures of me partying the night before, too.”
“Yeah.”
“Did you find out about it before or after we performed?”
“After.” How much had this weighed on her mind?
“Would you have gone on stage with me if you’d known?”
“Fiona, I’d go on stage with you again and again. It’s the fuckhead you were performing with who didn’t stick up for you who I’d never share a stage with.”
She shrugged a shoulder and nodded her head toward the percussion guy. “This is the kind of stage I love though. Even after performing with you, two packed balconies and the main floor giving us a standing ovation, there was a disconnect from the way I can interact with the audience.”
“I don’t want you to change, don’t need anything but for you to be you. And mine. Please be mine.”
She shifted, pulled her hands away, and grabbed the ball. “That’s a pretty big request considering we didn’t consult the whimsical orb.” Her smile faded and she stumbled over her words. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say—”
I grabbed the ball and cut her off with a kiss. My hands cupping her head left me with no idea when I’d let go of the ball, and it didn’t matter.
Her mouth opening to welcome me, her hands pulling me close, and the sensation that I’d made the most important, correct decision of my life overwhelmed me.
I breathed my words between kisses. “There’s only one whimsical thing I need in my life… you.
Epilogue
9 months later
Fiona
Watching Oliver perform with the symphony at a dress rehearsal, I could easily understand his passion for performance, even if he preferred structured ones over my improv. He’d offered to skip the concert that was right after my due date but I’d told him to go for it.
I knew it was almost impossible for me to have gotten pregnant from the dressing room romp, but I missed a period two weeks later, and every measurement the doctor tested agreed.
After shocking Ollie’s friends by getting married on a whim, we waited another month, at his request, to tell them I was pregnant. Most of them presumed married life was good for him and that’s why he relaxed, but they didn’t realize he’d simply found a new outlet for his energy… over-attention to me, or more specifically my belly.
He constantly asked if I was hungry, tired, comfortable… and did his best to make sure he played an active role in the pregnancy.
At the ultrasound visit, he’d found out the baby’s gender while I chose to wait. Ollie had done a great job of keeping the secret, and he wouldn’t have to keep it much longer.
I was a week overdue, looked like I was ready to bust, and couldn’t wait for the little one to finish incubating. We’d picked adorable baby announcements but they were on hold at the printer until we could provide the details. The front of the announcement was a black 8-Ball and the inside said SIGNS POINT TO, with a space left to fill in the gender.
When his rehearsal was about to finish, he looked up at me. I made a circle with my thumb and fingers of one hand, and poked my index finger of the other hand through the opening.
He shook his head and smiled, but also glanced around nervously.
I headed down from the balcony to prepare my surprise. The doctor had told us sex could help induce labor and I’d decided to give Ollie a chance to revisit dressing room sex since he’d called it off the first time. Ironic since I’d gotten pregnant anyway despite avoiding penetration and being on the pill.
Poking my head out of the dressing room door, I said hi to all of the musicians as they filed offstage. Whereas Ollie continued to hold a position of reverence w
ith most of them, I’d become friends with almost everyone.
Ollie was last. I didn’t take it personal that he hadn’t hurried. Players from his section always had questions, particularly the ladies, so he was generally last to pack up. Good thing I wasn’t the jealous type.
The hallway was empty except for him, and I said, “Hey, mister. Can you help me find something?”
His smile warmed my heart. He stopped, gave me a kiss, and rubbed my belly. “In the dressing room?”
“I’m looking for an orgasm. Have time to help me find it?”
“Oh.” He glanced to each side, always easy to tease.
I couldn’t fault him. In the right mood I would have totally embarrassed him by saying it in front of the other musicians. Most of them had a broader sense of humor than him.
He kissed me again and backed me inside the room, locked the door, and set his violin and bow safely out of the way.
Tucking his hands under the edge of my shirt, he started to lift but I stopped him. “Quick and dirty.”
“What?” He massaged my breasts while trying to figure out what I wanted.
The way my body and hormones changed from day to day, he’d learned it was safest not to assume anything. “I don’t want to scramble around the room trying to find my clothes afterward.”
“Whatever you want.” His hands trailed over my belly, lingering to rub our creation, then he lowered one to my sex.
I hiked my skirt and wagged my ass as I walked to our infamous counter. “Come here.”
He was hot on my heels but I enjoyed bossing him around.
Spreading my legs, I kept my skirt bunched and leaned onto the counter. The great thing for us was that my sex drive hadn’t diminished while I was pregnant, and lately it had been even higher. I was sure things would change once the baby came, but I loved the closeness of having Oliver inside of me and wanted to make love to him as many times as possible until that happened, which was starting to seem like never.
“Quick and dirty it is. Can I at least take your panties off, or is this a push them to the side thing?” The sound of his zipper was the best music I’d heard all day.
Correction, the groan as he pulled his cock out and rubbed it over my ass was the new favorite. My core ached to be filled. Like I wasn’t full enough with another human being harboring inside of me, but my desire for Ollie hadn’t changed.
“Do you care?” His fingers brushed over my panties.
“Oh, you can take them off.” Sex brain had a way of making me forget things. Jesus, what would sex brain and baby brain do to me. A problem for a different day.
He knelt behind me and tickled his fingers over the edge of my panties, taking his time.
I loved how his attraction to me had increased when I got pregnant, and I swear he loved me more every day even though it didn’t seem possible. And the way he always took his time making me comfortable was awesome, but it wasn’t what I wanted right then. I cleared my throat. “Could we focus more on the quick part of quick and dirty?
Ollie playfully bit my ass then tugged my panties down an inch. “Beggars can’t be choosers.”
“I can do this without you.” Part of it anyway.
“Then maybe I should sit back and watch. I hear there’s a good view from the door.” He eased a finger back and forth over my slit, pressing into my wet panties then pulled them aside and eased two fingers inside of me.
Unexpectedly, he switched hands, but I didn’t really care. I just wanted to be fucked.
“You sure you want to do it alone?” He groaned and I glanced back. He’d fisted his cock with his other hand and was slowly jerking himself off.
“Bastard. What happened to ladies first?”
“I didn’t come yet.” He played innocent but let go of himself and dragged his fingers over my leg as he lowered my panties the rest of the way. My knees went weak when he kissed between my legs.
Trailing his hands to my slightly swollen ankles, he helped me lift my foot, but his ulterior motive was to take my flip-flop off, then undress me. Same thing on the other side but I curled my toes to make it harder for him to remove my shoe.
“You’re naughty. Maybe I should consult the 8-Ball and see if you deserve a quick and dirty orgasm.”
I reached back and grabbed the crazy guy I couldn’t believe I was married to. “I’ll have the orgasm out of the way before you get an answer. Are you going to be part of it or not?”
His cock thrust into me so fast, I barely finished my taunt before I was gasping at the way he stretched me. Was he harder than normal? I couldn’t think straight, like an addict getting a fix, having him inside of me made the rest of the world not matter.
My pussy clamped around him while his fingers dug into what I had left of hip bones, which wasn’t much.
His small thrusts weren’t going to work for either of us, but he was giving me a second to adjust my position. This had been one of my favorites since getting huge.
I bent one arm on the counter and rested my head on it. My other hand snaked around my belly and settled on my clit since that had gotten hard for him to do.
“Ready?” His cock twitched and made my pussy spasm.
My body was already gripped in pain, ready for release. The building pressure from Ollie filling me, and my finger doubling up the pleasure was setting on faster than normal. Breathily, I got out, “Yeah.”
“Fiona, you still rock my world, I’m not going to last long. I have to keep it light until you’re close.”
“I’m close. I want it hard.” We’d already had the discussion about sex not hurting the baby, and I’d finally convinced him that’s how I liked it. Nothing changed just because I was a mom. I’d had to resort to his logic and rationalizing, and found research to support sex and pregnancy being compatible because he’d been worried our rough ways were dangerous. Nothing to risk our safety.
He moved one hand to my hair and wrapped his fingers in it while he took an audible deep breath. The light tug on my hair was the signal to brace myself.
“I’m ready.”
He moved his dick out slowly then hammered me to the point I was worried my moans and cries might be too loud.
One more flick of my clit and it didn’t matter. Electricity shot through my body. My legs shook. I clamped on him harder than ever before. His cock had to be bigger than normal. Fuck, it was pummeling me. The intense fullness was met with his release.
He throbbed as he pumped in and out shooting cum inside me until it dripped down my legs and I wanted to collapse from exhaustion.
He’d unwound his hand from my hair and had it cupped under my belly as he leaned onto me.
“Did we drip on the floor?” I asked but didn’t really care. Well, I kind of did but the euphoria hadn’t subsided.
Ollie grabbed a handful of tissues and pulled out of me. With me still bent on the counter, he wiped the insides of my legs. “When are you going to let me meet our baby? You do know the due date passed, right?”
“Shit!” I took deep breaths as my belly contracted.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t tease you about that. I should be glad since the doc said healthy pregnancies last a little longer than normal.”
The brief pain subsided enough for me to talk. “I think you’re going to get to meet her tonight.”
“What?”
“Do you have your stopwatch? I’m guessing that was the first contraction.”
Oliver looked panicked and was frozen in place by the time I stood.
“Hey, you’re going to do great. You wanted to keep track of the contractions, right?”
“Yeah.” He didn’t move.
“It’s showtime.”
***
Once I got Oliver to view labor as a performance, he played his role like a pro, covering all of the assigned tasks associated with certain cues as suggested by our birthing class. For instance, when I got the wild look in my eyes that another contraction was setting on, he let me lean on him. When I cried
that I couldn’t do it, he hugged me and reminded me to breathe. And when I yelled that he was a mother fucker and we were never having another kid, he stroked my hair and assured me that was fine.
And when our beautiful baby girl finally made her appearance, Ollie’s jaw dropped. “How did you know it was a girl?”
“A gut feeling.”
“Impossible.” He snuggled the two of us in the bed, switching his gaze between me and our masterpiece.
“Not everything can be explained, haven’t you learned that.”
“But the ultrasound said it was a boy.”
I died laughing on the inside but stifled it to avoid waking our princess. “You’ve been expecting a boy this whole time?” I leaned to kiss my stunned husband, finally understanding he wasn’t stunned because we held our baby but because it was a girl. “Ollie, it makes as much sense as why you agreed to perform with me on that crazy Leap Day. The look on your face when I walked in the door had me certain you were going to send me home without even letting me unpack.”
He squeezed our new family a smidge tighter. “I’m still trying to figure out what it was about you that made me so crazy.”
“More proof everything isn’t explained by logic. Sometimes taking a crazy leap of faith can work out after all.”
About the Author
My mind wanders… constantly… which is why I’m often staring into space. That’s when my sexy stories take shape, and it might just be an unexpected perk of being an introvert. I’m content to sit in a crowd and make shit up about everyone around me rather than actually interact with them.
Pretty much every story I write is triggered by some tidbit I observe which then snowballs into a story that gets taken over by heroes and heroines whose hearts insist on taking the lead. But because I rarely settle for the sweet version, we dive right into their DIRTY-SWEET story.
Find all of my books and keep up with my new releases via my newsletter at https://BarbraCampbell.com.
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