by Eva Luxe
Lacey moved so she could look at me.
“Yes.”
It was a serious answer, one she had thought about.
“And just for the record,” she said. “I’ve fallen for you, too. I’ll give being a girlfriend my best shot.”
“That’s all a guy could ask for,” I told her, happy at last.
Epilogue – Lacey
A year later
Anyone who’s been pregnant would know that it’s not a walk in the park. Your body swells up, there’s no space for your organs, you can’t reach your toes anymore, and you crave things that no one in their right mind would eat otherwise.
That wasn’t the hardest part for me, though. The hardest part for me had been the fear. I had been terrified of what it would mean to have a baby. I had gone from single, independent, and only out to have sex, to a girlfriend and a mother in less than a year. It was a big change, especially for someone who had had the worst views of family, growing up.
Hanson had made every effort to ease my fears. He had been supportive and strong, caring and there for me whenever I needed it. When I’d craved something in the middle of the night, he’d made sure I got it. When I’d sat crying on the floor because I’d dropped something and hormones had taken over, he’d picked it up for me and consoled me like I had every right to sob like a child.
And when our baby boy was finally born, I had never seen love like that. Hanson had looked at Liam Bell like he was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. I had known right then, at that very second, more than I ever had, that everything would be okay.
When I held the blue little bundle in my arms, I felt a tug deep inside me.
His life would never be like mine. He would grow up in a balanced household where love and loyalty prevailed, and he would be beautiful, inside and out.
Hanson had done everything he’d promised to do as a father. He’d cleaned up his act completely. Of course, the women were a thing of the past, now that I was in the picture, but staying out at clubs, drinking, and living the single life had become something of the past.
He was home for us when he could be, only leaving to train or spend time with his friends now and then. If he drank, he would never have more than two. And now that I knew why Brian never drank much, I didn’t worry about Hanson spending time with his best friend. I also finally found out why Brian doesn’t even sleep with women, but that’s a story for another day.
As a PR Manager, I would never have thought the best way to clean up a man’s act was to give him a family. But it turned out that life had lessons to teach me that my job could not.
Of course, I still worked for Chuck. I was on maternity leave now, but as soon as it was time to go back, Liam would go to the best daycare in town. I wanted to keep my career going for now, and Hanson needed to be able to focus on his football, too.
When I met Hanson, I had seen a problem to which I was the solution. He had been the challenge, the player I would be forced to tame. I had never thought that he would be the one to reel me in and tame me, instead.
I would never have guessed that a year down the line, I would have a family of my own. You never knew what life would throw at you.
You would also never guess that as soon as Liam was born, Hanson got down on one knee and proposed to me.
“Marry me,” he’d said. “Please say yes. I want our family to be official.”
He had held up a large sparkling ring he had purchased some time ago but was waiting for the right, spontaneous moment to do it. And the first time we held our son was exactly that right moment.
We are getting married in six months, and Liam will be our ring bearer, in a tiny red wagon I’ll pull down the aisle behind me. I’ve been talking to my dad more since all of this happened, and he’ll be able to make the wedding.
Now, I quietly closed the door to the nursery and stood at the door for a moment to be sure he was sleeping. Hanson put his arms around me from behind and kissed my shoulder.
“Is he asleep?” he whispered.
I nodded. “Finally.”
Hanson spun me around and kissed me.
“Come to bed with me,” he said.
He took my hand and led me to our bedroom. I switched on the baby monitor. It had a camera that allowed me to check on him.
Hanson climbed into bed and opened the covers for me to get into bed, too. He put his arm around me and pulled me closer, kissing me again.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
I nodded. “I’m good. Better.”
He smiled. “That’s good to hear. You’re a happy mom?”
I nodded. I’d never thought I would say it, but I was a happy mom.
Hanson kissed me again. He lingered on my lips, and I opened my mouth, letting him in. He penetrated me with his tongue, tasting me slowly and swirling his tongue around. His hand slid down my ribs, lower and lower. Before he slid his hands between my legs, he stopped.
“Are you okay with this?” he asked.
We hadn’t slept together since Liam had been born. I’d needed to recover. Not just physically, but emotionally and mentally, too.
“I am,” I said. “In fact, I’ll be right back.”
I slipped out of bed and walked to the closet where I retrieved a box I’d hidden in there a week before. I smiled at Hanson before I walked into the bathroom and closed the door.
I opened the box and retrieved a red G-string and a red teddy to match. I put them on and looked in the mirror. I hadn’t picked up a lot of weight during my pregnancy, but I wasn’t back where I wanted to be. Still, the lingerie looked good, and Hanson didn’t mind my body at all. I would start jogging again, soon, though.
When I opened the door, Hanson looked at me. His eyes slid down my body and back up again.
“God, you’re sexy,” he said.
I blushed and walked toward him, displaying my body for him. He got up and moved across the bed, kneeling on the mattress. He put his arms around me and pulled me against him. His erection strained against his boxers and pressed against my lower abdomen.
I shuddered in anticipation.
Hanson kissed me on the mouth before kissing a trail of fire down my neck. He thumbed my collarbone, kissing the skin he’d touched before he slid his hand to my breast. I gasped. I hadn’t been touched in so long. I was extra sensitive.
As if Hanson understood, he was gentle with me. He tweaked my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it beneath the material. His other hand was on my lower back, holding me against him as he gyrated his hips against mine.
I gasped. Heat flooded my body and pooled between my legs. My core tightened, and I wanted him. Hanson pulled me onto the bed and laid me on my back.
“You look fantastic in this, my fiancée,” he said, tugging at the elastic of my G-string. “But I’m afraid it will have to come off.”
I smiled. He curled his fingers around it on both sides and pulled it slowly down my legs. He dropped it on the floor. He slid his hands up my legs, moving until he was at the apex of my thighs. He massaged my inner thighs before he moved one hand higher and found my clitoris.
He rubbed it in small circles, and I gasped as he worked me up, pushing me closer and closer to the edge. With his other hand, he inserted two fingers, and I writhed against him. It was pure ecstasy. Balanced between his hands, he brought me to orgasm. I cried out, bucking against his hands.
When I looked at him, he smiled.
He pushed himself up, leaving me to recover, and pulled down his boxers. His cock sprung free, hard and eager. The tip glistened with anticipation, and I could almost feel him inside me already. He took off his shirt as well, and he was naked in front of me.
His muscles bulged everywhere, rippling under his skin as he moved. He crawled over me and positioned himself at my entrance. He kissed me again, pressing only the tip into me.
I squirmed beneath him, wanting more.
He smiled against my lips. He enjoyed teasing me. I put my legs ar
ound his hips and pulled him closer to me, into me. He chuckled and gave me what I wanted, sliding into me.
I moaned as he did. I had forgotten how big he was, how great he felt when he was inside me.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
I nodded. “More than okay.”
I loved that we no longer had to use condoms. There was nothing in between us; just our bare bodies meeting and being completely together.
He smiled and moved inside me, pulling out and pushing back in, creating friction, a rhythm. His sex forced my breath out of my body. His hips bucked against mine as he pushed harder and faster.
My second orgasm wasn’t far away, and with his pounding, it came closer quickly. My legs went numb at the knees, and he coaxed a fire into being at my core. When I couldn’t hold it anymore, I toppled into the abyss of a second orgasm. My body curled around Hanson’s, my nails biting into his chest, and for a moment, I stopped breathing as pure pleasure racked my body.
When it finally passed, I gasped, breathing hard. Hanson grinned at me. I smiled at him.
“Turn around,” I said.
Hanson blinked.
“Come on,” I said. “On your back.”
Hanson nodded and slid out of me. He moved to lay down next to me. I pulled off the teddy and straddled his hips. I leaned over his chest and kissed him, before I balanced myself over his cock and guided it to my entrance with one hand. I lowered myself onto it. Hanson and I sighed at the same time as he slid into me. From this angle, he went in deeper.
I moved a bit, getting comfortable on top of him before I moved my hips back and forth. Hanson’s face went slack, and his eyes were hooded as he alternated looking at my eyes and my breasts. I rocked harder and harder, feeling him slide in and out of me. He groaned.
My breasts jiggled, swinging back and forth. I put my hands on his chest and picked up my pace, riding him harder and harder. My knees rubbed against the sheets on either side of his body, and I felt the muscles in my hips strain. I was going to feel them in the morning. But I kept up my rhythm.
I felt him harden inside me, growing bigger still, and I knew he was close. I was getting tired, but I knew we needed just a little more.
Hanson released inside of me, his face riddled with concentration, his body taut and his cock jerking inside me. I loved that ever since I got pregnant and now that we’re engaged, he could come in me. It felt good to feel his raw cock, his seed spilling into me. His orgasm triggered echoes of my own, and I collapsed on his chest as we rode out the waves of pleasure together.
When the heat subsided and Hanson softened, I climbed off him and rolled onto the bed next to him.
“I’ll be right back,” I said and got out of bed.
I walked to the bathroom and cleaned up. When I returned to the bed, Hanson was already dozing off. I climbed in under the sheets with him. He rolled onto his side, and I did the same, my back against his chest. He curled his body around mine like a question mark and held onto me as we both drifted off to sleep.
“I love you,” I whispered, into his chest. “My fiance.”
I guessed he wasn’t completely asleep, because he half opened an eye and smiled.
“I love you too.”
I wasn’t a hundred percent confident about having a child and a relationship yet. There would still be rough days ahead, and I didn’t know what to expect. What I did know was that Hanson would always stick by my side, and together, we would make it through anything that came our way.
And life would be better because we had each other, and our baby boy too.
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Perfect Fit: A Modern Day Dirty Cinderella Fairy Tale with a Fake Royal Marriage Twist
Copyright © 2017 by Juliana Conners; All Rights Reserved
Chapter 1 – Ella
Swish, swish, swish.
Slip, slop, slap.
Sluuuuurp.
Thud, thud, thud.
These are the sounds I hear as I approach my bedroom.
Sex sounds.
These are definitely, and disgustingly, the sounds of sex.
It’s like something straight out of a Showtime TV show or an Alexis Angel romance book. Except, unlike in both of those delicious forms of entertainment, I’m not the one enjoying the action that is causing these sounds.
Even though they’re coming from my bedroom.
In Showtime shows, it’s likely that the guy causing this ruckus is an asshole that we’re somehow supposed to root for anyway. But those damn romance novels are like fairy tales.
Setting up girls to believe that a former bad boy turned into our own personal Prince Charming will come rescue our asses— before spanking them until we’re writhing around on his lap begging him to make us come because our pussies are so dripping wet from how he’s exerting his dominance over us.
But real life is a lot more disappointing than that. At least, mine has definitely been so far. So, it doesn’t surprise me that someone is using my bedroom for a hot sex session that doesn’t include me.
My life has never been a fucking fairy tale.
That’s probably why I’ve always hated them.
As I get closer to my bedroom door, muffled voices mix in with the sounds that have already been drifting out since I was further away.
“Oh yeah! Give it to me. Yeah, ooooooh.”
Well, that sounds like one of my step sisters— Sheila, to be exact— which also isn’t surprising. She’s been known to fuck anything with half a brain or half a boner.
I’m not even sure if her standards are that high; that’s probably giving her too much credit. She’d fuck any guy that shows the least bit of interest in her, although she’d prefer him to be filthy rich and as boringly handsome as a plastic Ken doll.
The question is, though: why is she doing this in my room? The one part of this whole wretched house that is supposed to be mine and mine alone? She has her own bedroom she should be in.
After she moved in, she painted the walls pink and decorated with a lot of silver glitter. Apparently, she still has some princess obsession that she’s had since she was a tiny spoiled brat— now she’s just an older spoiled brat. Her bedroom, predictably, is much larger and nicer than mine, even though this was my house first.
But who knows what Sheila’s up to? I shouldn’t even ask such questions to myself because I know there’s no answer that would make sense to most people.
Sheila and my other step sister Gloria are always trying to find ways to make me miserable, because, other than banging random Ken dolls or spending all the money from my dad’s estate on overpriced clothes, they have nothing better to do.
I don’t know exactly what Sheila is doing. But I’m sure it’s some kind of ridiculous ploy to rub the fact that I’m a virgin in my face.
Chapter 2 – Ella
Yeah, it’s ridiculous.
I’m nineteen years old and still a virgin and still living with my mean step mom and two step sisters. It sounds pathetic, but I have my reasons.
When it comes to my living situation, it’s complicated, and too painful to think about as I’m listening to sex noises coming from my bedroom. But when it comes to my virginity, well— I just want to make sure the timing is right.
Losing my virginity feels like the one area of my life I can control, and I’m determined to make it feel magical and perfect. I guess maybe I really do still believe in fairy tales, at least a little, even though I’ve always despised them for being unrealistic.
I have a boyfriend named Paul and we’ve made out but we haven’t gone all the way. He’s wanted to, of course, but I just want to wait a little longer before we do it. Something just feels a little “off,” and th
erefore, doesn’t fit into my definition of the “absolutely perfect” circumstances that I want to exist before I do the Big Deed for my very first time.
Paul’s told me he understands and that he’ll be patient. I have a feeling, though, that he’s starting to become a tad bit impatient. Or maybe he’s just altogether tired of waiting. He sure hasn’t been around as much lately as he used to be.
That’s why I’m at home now— which is a place I usually avoid. I can’t go hang out with Paul because I don’t know where he is. He hasn’t exactly been anxious to see me, like he used to be, back when we first started dating.
That’s fine with me though. I could use a break from him anyway, because it’s annoying that he’s pressuring me for sex when he knows it doesn’t feel right to me yet.
But anyway. Back to the very pressing— and loud— matter at hand.
I’m sure it’s just Sheila and some random guy in my bedroom, and that she’s trying to rub certain facts in my face while she rubs her pussy around on said random guy’s cock and picks up an STD or two.
She’s probably looking forward to showing me with my very own eyes that although I’ve never had sex before, she has sex all the time and is actually having sex on my bed— or probably on my floor or my dresser or something, knowing her.
She’s undoubtedly doing it just to show me that she’s better than me, or at least she thinks she is. And that everything here is really hers, rather than mine. She wants me to know that just like her mom took my dad, she can take my formerly relatively happy life, and even take my spot when it comes to where I would naturally be having sex, if I were in fact having it.
I shouldn’t go in. Shouldn’t give Sheila the satisfaction of knowing I see her doing the thing that she clearly wants me to see her doing.
But by not giving her her way, I’d also be losing, since all I want to do is grab my Kindle that has the Ash Harlow romance book I’m currently reading bookmarked at a really good spot (Crave is my kind of romance book, since it’s definitely not all rainbows and unicorns and fairy tales— more like an addictive nightmare you don’t even want to try to get out of because it’s so damn fascinating), and head to the bathroom for a bubble bath and some me time.