by Amy Brent
“I wouldn’t have known what to do with myself. It would have been so awkward, all alone in a room in front of a camera. I can only imagine the weird things people would have wanted me to do for them.”
“I like it,” I said, picturing Devon spread-eagled on her bed in nothing but a silver mask. “You’re a bit of a naughty girl, aren’t you?”
“Am not,” she said defensively. “Who’s to say if I would have even gone for it?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know, but like you said, school is important to you. I’m sure you would have found a way to make it work. You wouldn’t have had to work hard, anyway. You’re hot as hell. As soon as the camera was on, you would have had people sending you money.”
Devon’s eyes locked on mine. “You think?”
“I do,” I said.
She licked her lips, and her eyes flicked back and forth between mine. “I’m glad that I got knocked up instead,” she whispered.
There it was. That need to kiss her again. I wanted to trace her cheek with my thumb as I cupped the side of her face and drew her toward me. I wanted to taste her lip gloss, explore her mouth, and run my fingers through her hair. I wanted to show her what she was doing to me.
Instead, I grinned, gave her shoulder an affectionate squeeze, and said, “Me too.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Devon
I frowned at my reflection in the full-length mirror Ethan had hung on the back of my bedroom door for me when I’d first moved in with him. I was nice and round now. I was seven and a half months into my pregnancy, and my body was starting to give me all the signs that it was going through a lot of changes. Changes that I was ready to reverse.
My feet were sore all the time. They were swollen and so were my ankles. I felt like I had lost the feminine curve from my half to my heel, which didn’t really matter because I couldn’t wear any of my cute shoes anymore. I had to wear things that were wide and gave me a lot of arch support.
My hips were wider, and all I was wearing were stretchy black pants with thin waistbands. I didn’t like having any pressure on my belly. The baby was a squirmer and a kicker, and he didn’t like anything tight either. I couldn’t blame him.
The worst part of the whole thing was I didn’t feel sexy anymore. I felt slow, sluggish, wide, and unattractive.
I ran my hand over my belly and looked down. I couldn’t even see my feet. I sighed.
“I can’t wait until you’re out of me,” I said. “It’s been fun up until now, I swear, but this whole extra weight thing is really killing me.” I smiled to myself as I felt a little kick to the right of my belly button. “I know it’s not your fault. It’s all how it should be. But still,” I want my body back, I thought.
I knew it would have been easier to deal with all the changes in my body if I had my best friend to go through this with me. Heather still wasn’t talking to me. I hadn’t tried to reach out to her since coming back from the Hamptons a month ago. I had taken Ethan’s advice. It was best to give Heather the space to work through it on her own, and she would come to me when she was ready. Forcing it to happen any earlier wouldn’t be good for anyone.
But not talking to her was weighing on me. I was broken. I missed her terribly. Even though this pregnancy was not at all how I imagined my first pregnancy would be, I had always pictured Heather there by my side through the whole ordeal. I had seen her at the hospital when the baby was being born. I had seen her planning my baby shower. I had thought about shopping for clothes and supplies together.
Now, I felt like I had lost all those experiences, and I wouldn’t ever be able to get them back.
I groaned and wiped my eyes when I realized I was crying for the fourth time that morning. My emotions were running high from all the changes in my hormones, and every time I thought about Heather, I cried. I couldn’t help it.
I tried to think of the things in my life that were going well to take my mind out of the deep pit of despair.
Ethan’s parents were thrilled about the baby. We saw them for dinner on a near weekly basis, where Ethan’s mother inevitably pulled me away from the men to flip through catalogs with designer cribs, bassinets, mobiles, rocking chairs, and all other types of goodies. That would be exciting until I remembered that once the baby came, I was out of the picture. I’d be moving out into a new apartment, probably somewhere close to campus, and Ethan would carry on with his life and his son.
My heart leaped into my throat, and I broke down in sobs again.
This was what I had signed up for. None of this was a surprise. These seven and a half months had all been leading to the same end game. Why had it become so hard to accept how it was going to end?
I needed someone to talk to. I needed to get my feelings out there, to confess what was really going on my mind. I needed someone who would help me work through everything.
I needed Heather.
I went to my bed, sat on the edge, and cried harder than I ever had. I knew Ethan would be home from work soon, and I didn’t want him to see me in such a state, so I tried to get everything out before he came in the door. None of this was his problem. He hadn’t signed up to be a therapist when he’d applied to the surrogacy program at One Billion Fantasies. He had signed up to be a father with no strings attached.
The tears continued to flow.
I never heard the front door open, but I heard it close.
I stifled my sobs and sat in paralyzed silence, straining my ears to listen for Ethan. How long had he been inside for? Had he heard me crying?
I listened to the sound of his footsteps out in the hall. They were muffled for a moment, and I knew he was crossing the plush carpet in front of the sofas. Then he was coming down the hall, passing his own bedroom, and the bathroom, and the study.
He knocked softly on my bedroom door.
I wiped my cheeks in a panic, trying to find my voice.
“Dev?” he called softly.
“Y-yes,” I said, my voice hitching in my throat.
“Are you all right?”
No. I’m so far from being all right. I’m terrible. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just need a minute and I’ll be out, okay?”
There was silence from the other side of the door. I didn’t dare move.
“I’m coming in,” Ethan said.
“Wait, no, it’s fine—”
He opened the door.
I turned my back to him hurriedly and ran my fingers under my eyes. I heard him come around the end of the bed. Then, before I knew it, he was in front of me, crouching down and balancing on the balls of his feet as he rested a warm hand on each of my knees.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
My heart ached just looking at him. His eyebrows were drawn together, and his lips were pursed in a fine line. The muscles of his jaw were working as he searched my eyes, waiting for an answer I wasn’t currently capable of giving him without breaking down into another fit of crying.
I shook my head, afraid to try to speak.
“It’s okay,” he said softly. “Just get it out.”
I didn’t need his permission, but his willingness to sit through this with me broke me. I buried my face in my hands and cried. He straightened and sat beside me, drawing me into him. I curled up in his lap, and he held me against his chest as I cried.
“Is this about Heather?” he asked, something in his voice a little harder than before.
I nodded.
“Just her?” he clarified.
I wanted to nod but couldn’t lie to him. There was more to it than that.
“What, then?” he asked, pushing me gently away from him to peer into my eyes. “You can tell me. Have I done something to hurt you?”
“No,” I said hurriedly, surprised at my own ability to speak. “No, it’s not you. Y-you’re,” I sniffed and dabbed my eyes, “you’re wonderful. It’s me. I’m disgusting.”
“What?” he asked, his eyebrows pulling even closer together. Had I not been so distraught, I migh
t have thought it was kind of funny how they looked like they were merging into one across his forehead.
“I’m not sexy anymore,” I said, gesturing at myself. “I have fat ankles and swollen feet, and my stomach is huge. Soon, I won’t be able to fit sideways through doorways.”
I didn’t miss the very tiny smile that threatened to curl his lips. Ethan shook his head, and I could see him forcing to keep his expression neutral. “You are still incredibly sexy, Dev.”
“You’re just saying that to be nice,” I accused.
“No, I’m not. I mean it. You’re still sexy as hell. Let me prove it to you.”
Ethan’s fingers slid under my belly to pull my shirt over my head. The way he was looking at me certainly didn’t make me feel unattractive. His eyes still held that lustful glint they always did when things got steamy.
He stood before me and helped me out of my pants and then my panties. I stayed on the bed as he leaned over me, raining kisses over my stomach. My tears were dry, and I was completely consumed with watching him.
I still thought he was as hot now as he was the first time we fucked. His hair was a bit longer than it had been seven months ago, but it suited him. He had it slicked back, and I loved running my fingers through it when we had sex. It was thick and smelled like his shampoo, fresh rain.
Ethan dropped to his knees between my legs. I knew this routine well, so I opened my legs for him, inviting him to lean in and press his lips to my clit. I was so sensitive now, more so than I ever had been, and his first lick made me quiver with excitement.
My body took over from there.
My hips moved as he tasted me, encouraging him to keep going. He dipped his tongue inside me, and I moaned as my pussy started pulsing. He knew how fast I could come now. Being pregnant had been a game changer for sex for me. For the last month, I had been out of this world horny, and Ethan’s touch sent me into mind-reeling orgasms faster than ever before.
He slipped a finger inside me. My walls tightened around him instantly. I heard him make a satisfied sound in the back of his throat as he continued suckling my clit and fucking me with his finger.
My first orgasm crept up on me quickly. One second, I was basking in the glory of his exquisite touch, and the next, I was clutching the sheets and rocking into his hand as I came.
When I was done, Ethan kissed the inside of my thighs and got to his feet. He undressed, his stare fixed on me, and then he had me turn over and get on my hands and knees at the edge of the bed.
He crouched and gripped the backs of my thighs. His hands were warm and strong, and he held onto me as he started eating me out. His tongue ran up and down my slit and paused every now and then to swirl around my swollen clit.
He slid two fingers inside me.
I hung my head and pressed my forehead to the mattress. He was too good at this now. He knew exactly what to do to get me off. He brought me to the brink of coming like it was as effortless for him and then stopped. I moaned in frustration and wiggled my hips in an effort to convince him to keep going.
He waited a few more seconds until he knew my orgasm had abated before starting up again. He built up the momentum slower this time, caressing my clit with his tongue and sliding his fingers slowly in and out of me.
I bit the inside of my cheek in an effort to contain the cry of delight that wanted to escape me. I didn’t want him to know when I was about to come because I was sure he would make me wait.
Even when I kept my mouth shut, he knew when I was about to climax. His fingers stopped, buried up to the knuckle inside me, and he pulled his tongue away from my pulsing clit.
I blew out an exasperated breath and lifted my head. “Keep going,” I pleaded. “It feels so good.”
“I know,” he breathed behind me, his breath hot on the back of my thighs, “I’ll let you come when I want you to.”
His words sent a thrill through me. I liked when he took control, regardless of whether he made me wait for my orgasm. His fingers started moving inside me. His tongue returned to my clit.
He edged me a few more times until I thought I might scream at him in desperation. Right when I thought I couldn’t take anymore, when my pussy felt so swollen and achy, when my legs were trembling uncontrollably, and when my knuckles were white from gripping the sheets so tightly, he let me come. He suckled my clit and curled his fingers inside me, and then fucked me hard and fast, his fingertips striking my G-spot with every thrust.
My orgasm tore me apart. I cried out as I came. I felt the wet heat between my legs. It ran down the inside of my thighs. Ethan kept going, his fingers setting my soul on fire until I was undone by another body-shaking orgasm.
As I was coming, Ethan pulled his fingers out, stood, and drove his cock inside me. He took my hips in his hands and pulled me into his hips with every thrust. His balls slapped against me as I came all over his dick.
I cried out his name.
Ethan continued fucking me until my orgasm was done, and then he had me lie down on my side on the bed. He joined me, lying on his side behind me. He lifted my leg in the air and slipped his cock into my pussy. I was so wet. He whispered in my ear how good it felt, and then kissed my neck as he reached over my hip with one hand to rub my clit.
I looked back at him. He stared into my eyes as he fucked me. Then he kissed me, and the electric shock of his lips on mine brought me to another thrilling climax.
“I’m coming,” I said, my bottom lip pinched between his teeth.
“Fuck,” he grated, as my pussy bloomed with more wetness and tightened around his cock. Then he was coming, and the two of us were moaning into each other as we finished.
When we were done, Ethan pulled a pillow down from the top of the bed and fluffed it under my head. He curled around me, and I loved how I fit in the curve of his body. His right arm was under my head, and his left hand rested on my belly. His thumb gently rubbed my skin until he fell still, and I knew he was sleeping.
As I listened to his deep breathing behind me, I realized something that terrified me. I was in love with Ethan Garrison.
I was madly in love him.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ethan
“Hey,” I said, surprised that Heather had even answered my phone call. She didn’t say anything at first. I could hear her breathing on the other end, and I had the strong impression that she was considering hanging up on me. “I miss you, little sis, and I think it’s about time we sat down together. Lunch today?”
Heather had always appreciated my more direct approach. I didn’t like to leave room for bullshit. I got right to the point, and if she wasn’t ready, she could tell me as much.
“I don’t know, Ethan,” she said slowly. Her hesitation was enough to show me she wanted to meet. She just had too much pride to come out and admit it so early in the game.
“I want something simple like soup and a sandwich. There’s a new place on Maine that I’ve heard great things about. Meet me at one.” It was a statement, not a question.
Heather sighed. “Fine. One.”
“Perfect,” I said. “See you soon, sis.”
I didn’t tell Devon I was going to meet Heather for lunch. She was sitting on the sofa curled up in her usual corner with a book when I emerged from my bedroom. She tried to pry me for answers, but I evaded her questions by telling her I had a couple business meetings. She bought it and returned her attention to her book after wishing me a good day.
It felt good to leave the house with a beautiful girl wishing you a good day.
I met Heather at one on the dot. She was there already, unwinding a plaid scarf from her neck. She stayed in her seat when I came in, and I took the spot across from her. It was awkwardly tense for the first little while, and once we put in our orders, I forced myself to start talking. If one of us didn’t put ourselves out there first, nothing would come from this lunch.
And I couldn’t stand for that.
“Thanks for coming, sis,” I said as kindly as I
could.
“It was more of a demand than an invitation,” she said coolly.
“True,” I said, “which I wouldn’t have had to do if you weren’t being such a diva about this whole thing.”
“A diva?” she exclaimed, crossing her arms and glaring at me. If she had been standing, I was sure she would have stomped her foot like she did when we were teenagers. “I am not being a diva. My own brother hooked up with my best friend and then whoops,” she threw her hands in the air like she was tossing confetti, “they’re having a baby together all of a sudden. And you know what happens next? They lie about it. Why couldn’t you have told me, Ethan? What did you think I would do?”
“I’m sorry,” I said earnestly. “I never wanted to hurt you. Neither did Dev.”
“Dev, hey?” Heather asked coldly.
“Yes,” I said, knowing she was irritated by my use of the nickname she had given Devon years ago. “Neither of us wanted it to happen this way. We went about it all wrong. Devon misses you dearly. So do I. We want you around for all of this, Heather.”
Heather gnawed at her bottom lip and uncrossed her arms. “I want to be around too,” she said quietly. “I want to be part of my niece or nephew’s life.”