The Baby Contract

by Amy Brent

  Hearing her say the word nephew made my heart pitter patter in my chest. “Nephew,” I said.

  Heather smiled at me. It was a brilliant, happy smile that was gone as fast as it came. “Before I get too ahead of myself,” she said, “I need to ask you some questions.”

  “Whatever you need to know, the floor is yours.”

  “When did you and Dev start dating?” Heather asked.

  I was going to be honest about everything. Well, almost everything. I had promised Devon that no one would ever know about the surrogacy program. We would tell everyone that we were in a relationship and follow through with our scheduled break-up as planned after a couple months.

  “We hooked up one time, and that was when she was pregnant. I knew I couldn’t let her do it alone, so we took a shot in the dark and tried to make it work.”

  “Wow,” Heather said. “That’s very mature of you and responsible.”

  “Don’t sound so surprised,” I scowled jokingly.

  She chuckled and shook her head. “I can’t believe it, Ethan. You’re going to have a son. And Dev, she’s going to be a mom.”

  “Yeah,” I said, “and she could really use her best friend right now.”

  Heather looked at her hands in her lap. “How has she been?”

  “She’s been keeping it together but barely,” I said honestly. “I’ve tried to do everything I can to make her feel better, but sometimes there’s no better medicine than a hug from your bestie. At least, that’s what I’ve learned from all the romcoms she’s been making me watch.”

  Heather arched a judgmental eyebrow. “Romcoms, hey?”

  I shrugged.

  She licked her lips. “I miss her too.”

  “Good. Come over for dinner tonight. Let’s put all this behind us. You miss her, she misses you, and I can’t keep coming home to her crying. Please, Heather, come see her.”

  “You really care about her, don’t you?” Heather asked.

  It was a simple question, really. For some reason, I couldn’t think of a single thing to say. So I waved her off and was grateful when our plates of food arrived.

  ***

  Devon peered around me at the pasta sauce I was stirring on the stove. She looked up at me and then back down at the sauce.

  “Can I help you?” I asked.

  “You made a lot,” she said. “Like, way more than usual. I might be getting fatter by the second, but I’m not going to eat that much food in one sitting.”

  “You’re not fat,” I laughed, covering the sauce with the lid. “Maybe I overdid it a little bit. Sue me. You’ll have leftovers.”

  “What if it tastes bad?” Devon teased, sticking her tongue out at me and bumping my hip with her own.

  I bumped her back and poked her on the nose with my finger. “You’ve never complained about my cooking before. Don’t start now just because you’re feeling sassy.”

  “Sassy?” Devon giggled. “Oh, you poor thing, you have no idea what I can be like when I’m sassy.”

  “I don’t think I want to find out.”

  “You will. Just give it another month. When I’m about to explode and my belly is the size of a house, you will learn the true meaning of sassy.”

  As I was about to come back with a remark of my own, the doorbell rang. My stomach rolled over with excitement as Devon peered down the hallway to the front door. “Are you expecting someone?” she asked, looking back up at me.

  “Uh, not that I recall,” I said. “Do you mind getting it? I have to start the noodles.”

  Devon shrugged and started making her way down the hall. I leaned out the archway from the kitchen to peer down the hall after her. She pushed aside some of her stray shoes that were near the front door and then unbolted the lock. I felt like a kid on Christmas morning as she slowly turned the handle.

  When the door was halfway open, I made my way down the hall. I didn’t want to watch from a distance. I wanted to see the moment up close and personal.

  Heather was standing at the threshold. She was wearing the same plaid scarf she had on earlier, and the rest of her winter ensemble was black. She stood with her hands clasped tightly in front of her. Her purse slid off her shoulder, and she awkwardly tried to pull it back up. It got caught on her sleeve and fell again.

  “Hi,” Heather said rather miserably.

  “Hi,” Devon whispered back.

  Then Heather started crying. It wasn’t the kind of crying I was expecting. All the rom coms had depicted women tearing up and then pulling each other in for a hug. This crying was violent and gut-wrenching. This was the horrible kind of crying that made me want to shrink away and hide until it was over.

  Devon started up too. My throat ached.

  “I’m sorry for ignoring you for so long,” Heather started.

  “It’s okay,” Devon said. “I shouldn’t have lied. I’ve missed you.”

  “I missed you too,” Heather said.

  Then Heather was throwing herself through the door, and the two of them were clinging to one another for dear life while sobbing sloppy apologies into each other’s shoulders.

  “Holy hell,” I breathed, leaning against the wall and crossing my arms. “It’s about fucking time.”

  Heather and Devon broke apart and stared at me. Heather was giving me that all too familiar “shut your piehole” little-sister glare while Devon was beaming from ear to ear.

  “Did you arrange this?” Devon asked.

  I shrugged and headed back to the kitchen. “Come on, dinner will be ready soon. Let’s crack a bottle of wine—at least, Heather and I will—and catch up. We have a lot of time to make up for.”

  The women followed me back into the house, and we spent the evening doing exactly what I hoped we would. Heather asked hundreds, if not thousands, of questions about the baby, and when I pulled out the ultrasound photos, she started crying. I wasn’t very fond of this new and unrelenting routine of tears.

  “Stop weeping,” I said. “I can’t handle all the tear anymore. No more tears. This is officially a tear-free zone.”

  As we made our way from the dining table to the sofas in the living room, Devon shot me an apologetic look. “You’re living with a pregnant woman. You can’t declare any space as a tear-free zone.”

  “True,” Heather nodded knowingly. “You haven’t seen the worst of it yet, I’m sure.”

  I looked back and forth between them, hoping to see a crack in the facade to suggest they were pulling my leg. They stared calmly back. “Really?” I asked.

  They both erupted in fits of laughter as they threw themselves down on the couch. They spent the entire evening sitting as close to one another as they could possibly get as we laughed and talked until nearly one in the morning.

  When Heather did eventually go home, Devon walked her to the door. I let them have some privacy, and they spent nearly twenty minutes saying goodbye. I waited, one arm draped over the back of the couch, until I heard Devon close the door and make her way back down the hall.

  She came into the living room, wringing the sleeves of her long sleeve shirt in both hands, looking at me with a something I had never seen in her before.

  “Thank you for doing that for me,” Devon said. “That meant the world to me. It feels so good to have her back.”

  I wanted to tell her that she deserved it. I wanted to tell her how happy I was to see her happy and how brutal it had been having to watch her so upset all the time. I wanted to say a lot of things, but what I settled for would have to do.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Devon

  Ethan had one arm draped lazily over the back of the couch, and he was looking at me with that lopsided smile of his that I liked so much. I was vibrating with joy. Everything felt like it had all fallen into place over the last couple hours.

  I had Heather back, finally, and there was nothing more important to me than that.

  Well, almost nothing.

  I padded
over to the sofa and stood in front of Ethan. He looked up at me with his head resting on the back pillows. “Yes?” he asked, his eyes glittering mischievously.

  I drummed my fingers on my round belly. “I was pondering all the things I could do to thank you for what you did tonight.”

  “Really?” he asked, his arm falling from the back of the couch. He put a hand on each of my hips and drew me down on top of him. “I’m sure that brilliant mind of yours could come up with something splendid in no time.”

  “You have a lot of faith in me,” I said.

  “I don’t think it’s misplaced,” he grinned.

  “Not at all,” I breathed, leaning in to plant a kiss on his lips.

  As I kissed him, I let my hands wander up his chest. I slipped them under the collar of his shirt and felt the tight, firm muscles there. He tasted like wine, and the stubble around his lips tickled my skin. I began to slowly unbutton his shirt.

  “That was thanks enough,” Ethan muttered as I sank to the ground between his knees. “Consider the slate clean.”

  His shirt was undone now, and from the ground, I had the most spectacular view of him. His shirt was open and framed his abs and chest. He looked like a chiseled, dark-haired god in the dim lighting of the living room. His jaw looked even sharper from down here, and his eyes danced in shadow beneath his brows.

  I started to undo his belt. I let the buckle fall open and then popped open the button of his pants and pulled down his fly.

  “I haven’t even gotten started,” I said softly, slipping my hands inside his pants to massage his stiffening shaft through his boxers.

  “I wish I had some silver nipples covers,” he teased.

  I paused, one hand cupping his balls, the other pulling the waistband of his boxers away from his stomach. “Do you want me to stop?”

  “No,” he grinned. “Forgive me for saying something so foolish at a time like this?”

  I grinned back as I pulled him free of his boxers. I ran my hand gently up his shaft and played with his velvety soft tip. “Forgiven,” I whispered.

  He was hard as a rock in my hands. It never took long with him. As soon as the idea of sex was on the table, his cock was ready. I loved that. It made me feel sexy and beautiful and desired.

  I leaned back, and he watched as I used the hair tie on my wrist to secure my hair in a ponytail. He arched an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the amount of preparation I was putting into this, and waited until I leaned in. The insides of his thighs were warm against my shoulders as I took his shaft in my hand.

  I parted my lips and pressed them gently to his tip. Then, I pressed my tongue against him and ever so slowly eased him into my mouth.

  I was going to take my time. I was going to show him how grateful I was by giving him the best blowjob he had ever received.

  I took as much of him in my mouth as I could before I backed off, keeping my lips sealed around him until I released his tip with a pop. Then I lowered myself so I could suckle his balls, one at a time, slowly and deliberately, while I worked his cock up and down with one hand.

  He was watching me. I loved when he watched me. Especially when I was doing a good job. I liked to see the tightness in his jaw as I worked him over. He was so sexy.

  I trailed my tongue up his shaft, swirled it around the head, and then slid him back into my mouth. I heard him moan softly, and the sound drove me wild. I felt wetness in my panties.

  I took all of him this time. The tip of his cock pressed up against the back of my throat, and my mouth filled with saliva. I kept it wet as I began to really suck him off. I puckered my cheeks and pushed my tongue against him. He moaned and rested his head back. His eyes fell closed.

  I massaged his balls with one hand as I continued to suck him. Soon his hips were moving up to me, encouraging me to go faster, to take all of him in my throat with each and every thrust. I did. I loved the way it felt when my mouth was so full of him that I couldn’t breathe. He held himself there, deep against my throat, and then lowered his hips back down to the sofa.

  I licked and teased him until his cock was jerking between my lips.

  Then he pulled away from me. I looked up at him, knowing there must be something he wanted, something he needed.

  “I need to taste you,” he said, “right now.” He lay down on the sofa and tossed half the cushions off. Then he pulled his pants off. “Get over here.”

  I smiled and got to my feet. I put on a show for him of turning around and taking off my stretchy black pants. I bent over, giving him a view of my ass and panty covered crotch. Then I took those off too, spun them around on one finger, and then shot them across the room like an elastic band. He chuckled and waited patiently as I took off my shirt.

  I couldn’t do that in the same sexy way because of my round belly, but I tried nonetheless. Ethan seemed to appreciate it because when I got within arm’s reach of him, he reached out and pulled me to him.

  He had me face the opposite way and then told me to straddle his face. Just thinking about his tongue against my pussy made my cheeks hot.

  As I planted my knees above his shoulders, I felt that same tension gather below my belly. The heat between my legs was unbearable, and as I lowered myself down on my elbows, his finger ran over my slit.

  “You’re so wet,” he muttered beneath me.

  “I can’t help it,” I said before sealing my lips over his cock again. Somehow he felt even harder than before.

  “Fuck,” he breathed, slipping a finger inside me.

  I moaned in response. He worked slowly, sliding his finger in and out, as I matched his rhythm with my mouth.

  When he took his finger out of me, he pushed my lips apart and his tongue ran over my slit. He licked me up and down, softly at first, avoiding my clit. I waited, the heat and tension in my belly gathering as I anticipated the moment where he would finally lick my most sensitive spot.

  His tongue darted inside me.

  I braced myself above him and tried to take more of his cock in my throat. I wanted to make him feel as good as he was making me feel. I wanted to make him come. I wanted it in my mouth more than I wanted anything else.

  His hips began moving up and down beneath me. His breathing was quicker than it had been. He was getting close to his breaking point.

  Ethan’s tongue flicked over my clit.

  My moan was muffled by his cock in my mouth. He moaned into my pussy at the same time.

  He started suckling my clit the way he knew I liked. He drew it into his mouth and ran his tongue over the swollen tip of it. I felt a spasm of excitement ripple through me. I was so close. The tightness was building. The release was moments away.

  His hips lifted, and I took all of him once more. He moaned again and stopped eating me out. “Fuck,” he whispered, “suck it just like that.”

  I bobbed my head up and down, burying his cock in my throat each time. His hips rose to meet me every time I came down.

  Suddenly his finger was inside me, and his lips were sealed over my clit. I moaned. His cock filled my throat. Another finger slipped inside me. He buried them up to his knuckles and then fucked me hard while his tongue flicked over my clit.

  I was going to come.

  I clutched the sofa cushion beneath him as he bucked wildly, and then all at once, hot spurts of come hit the back of my throat. The sound that came from him was a primal sort of growl, and as it left his throat, the tightness below my belly gave way.

  I came, and he kept his mouth pressed to me, tasting all of it. I continued sucking him off until I had every last drop of him. Then I licked him clean and straightened above him.

  When I slid off, he sat up. He was breathless but smiling.

  “That was the best head I’ve ever had,” he said.

  “That’s what I was going for,” I smiled, running a finger over my bottom lip and catching more of his come. I licked it off my finger.

  “Goddamn, you’re sexy,” he said, grabbing my hips and pulling me do
wn to his lap. I straddled him and wrapped my hands behind his head.

  “You’re pretty sexy yourself,” I said. I could feel his cock between my legs. He was still hard.

  His right hand trailed up my thigh and slipped down to my pussy. He ran his fingers over my clit and watched me the whole while. I bit my bottom lip and matched his stare.

  He slipped a finger in me.

  “I don’t need anymore,” I whispered. “I just wanted to make you feel good.”

  Ethan shook his head. “This makes me feel good.”

  He slipped another finger inside me. I couldn’t help but smile as he found my G-spot. He worked me over with expertise until I was nothing but pleasure atop him.

  “Do you want me to make you come again?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I pleaded.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Please,” I moaned.

  He obliged. I clung to him as he banged me with his fingers. When I came, he kissed me. I moaned into his mouth, and he explored my mouth with his tongue until we had to break apart so I could catch my breath.

  “You’re too good to me,” I said.

  He kissed my breasts and cupped them in his hands. Then he rested his hands on my belly and met my eye. There wasn’t anything that needed to be said. We sat, hot and sweaty and naked, as close to one another as we could be with his hand on my round belly.