Mr. Fiancé

by Lauren Landish

  "I don't know. I’m sure. We'll find out, though. But it's really okay?"

  "Barring complications, some of the sources I read said that we could have sex up until the eighth month . . . if you don't mind my swollen belly."

  "I won't mind. Every day, you get more beautiful to me. You could have triplets in there, and that won't do anything but make you more beautiful."

  "Triplets? Oh, hell no!" Carrie laughs, leaning back against my chest. "Giving birth to triplets during the playoffs? Whitney told me how distracted Troy was during the playoffs. I'd hate to imagine what you'd be like. They'd have to attach Velcro to your helmet to catch the ball!"

  We lie back, taking our time. We have all night, and there's no rush, and as our hands join, I can feel the warmth spreading through my body. I lean in, and kiss the curve of Carrie's neck, tasting the soft spiciness of her skin, and cup her left breast with my hand. "Carrie?"

  "Yes?"

  “Join me for a shower?"

  Carrie nods and turns her head, kissing me softly. “You’d better hurry, because another part of me wants to just turn over and make love to you on the couch right now."

  I shift out to the side, and before Carrie can get up, I scoop her up in my arms, carrying her toward the bathroom. Carrie smiles and puts her head against my shoulder. "You know, you're the only man who's ever made me feel petite and fragile.”

  I set Carrie down on her feet while I turn on the shower and the bathtub at the same time. The Vista has nice baths, and I have enjoyed the fact that my own apartment has a built-in massaging jet bathtub. "Come, let me wash your hair while the bath fills," I tell Carrie, guiding her into the shower stall. "You're giving me such an amazing gift, and I want to serve you tonight."

  Carrie smiles her angelic smile and strokes my face. "You can serve me by being the strong, wonderful man you are. You don't know how good you make me feel.”

  Running my fingers through Carrie's beautiful hair is sensual, erotic as I gently massage the lather into her pale golden locks, the scent of the herbal shampoo she'd gotten as a Christmas gift filling the shower stall as I rinse her off. She reaches back, her eyes closed but still finding my cock, which is hard and aching after being so close for so long. Her fingers are wet and slippery, sweet torture as she strokes me slowly, smiling as I tremble, running my hands through her hair again to rub in the conditioner. "You say you like me strong . . . yet you're doing a good job teasing me while I serve."

  "Mmm, maybe I like you serving and being strong at the same time," Carrie replies. "Just like I promise to serve you."

  I somehow keep control of myself as the conditioner soaks in, and I rinse it out, Carrie not letting go of my cock the entire time. We leave the shower and walk the few steps to the bath, Carrie letting me go in first before she follows, nestling between my legs. Leaning back into me, she lets her head rest on my chest, tilting her head up and back so that we can kiss. "Thank you," she whispers after our kiss. "For everything."

  I reach over and take the soap in my hands. Working up a lather, I set it aside and wash her, starting with her shoulders and collarbones before working my fingers over her breasts, slipping and sliding over the smooth, beautiful skin. How a woman can have such strength as Carrie does but still have silky smooth skin is magical, in my opinion. The deep groan from her chest when I cup both of her nipples is electric, and my cock twitches under the water. "You didn't want to help me wash up at all."

  "We can wash later," I promise, my hands moving in circles. I find Carrie's nipples again and lightly pinch them between my thumbs and forefingers, relishing the gasp that escapes from her lips. Every inch of Carrie is beautiful to me, but her breasts are out of this world, sensitive, perfect in shape and texture, heavy and soft. "Right now, I'm making love with my soon to be wife."

  "Say it again," she whispers, her eyes closed in the haze of sensation washing over her. "Call me that again."

  "My wife," I whisper in her ear. Carrie trembles, her body on the edge of coming, and I pause, kissing her. "I'm giving you a choice. You can come now, or wait for me.”

  With a deep, calming breath, Carrie nods. "Take me to bed . . . my husband."

  Once again, I carry her through the apartment, wrapped in a towel to lay her on our bed. Setting her down, I gently unwrap the cotton from around her, smiling at her little pose. "Beautiful."

  Carrie spreads her legs, urging me between them, and I line myself up, pausing. "What is it?"

  I smile and tease the tip of my cock between her lips, rubbing it up and down, over her clit before nestling it at her entrance again. "It just . . . has a lot of meaning now, more than ever before."

  "I know," Carrie answers, reaching down and taking my hand. "Sexy, isn't it?"

  I push in, my cock sinking into her. Our fingers interlock, palms together as I finish sliding all the way inside her. We stay that way for a moment, the beauty of the meaning not lost on either of us before I pull back and slip inside again.

  Carrie takes it all and gives it back, giving herself to me while demanding everything from me. We let the speed and pace be dictated only by our own desires, our eyes locked on each other even as our hands never part. When I lean down to kiss her, pushing our hands over her head so that I can still keep our loving grip, her lips are amazingly soft and loving. My hips speed up, faster and faster. I give myself to her, the only sounds in the bedroom the thunder of our hearts, the gasp of air in our lungs, and the sharp slapping sound of my hips driving my cock over and over again deep into her. We are both pushing, reaching that peak which only Carrie has ever brought me to, an intensity that captures my heart, body and soul in one instant.

  "Duncan," Carrie gasps, her voice failing her. She's so close . . . only a few more seconds.

  "Carrie!" I cry, my cock erupting. Coming with Carrie is something I'll never be able to fully explain, except that it moves my soul, and I'm groaning as I give myself fully to this woman, the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.

  Afterward, Carrie lays on top of me, her head on my chest, her right hand lazily tracing my stomach muscles. "I've missed that."

  "Never again . . . well, except for months eight and nine," I hum, rubbing her shoulder.

  "Oh, the things I'll sacrifice to become a mother and wife," she mock laments, reaching down and taking my now soft cock in her hand. "It's going to be such a hard life."

  "Keep that up, and it will be." I sigh happily as she pumps me slowly. It hasn't been long enough for me to be ready again, barely ten minutes, but it still feels wonderful.

  "Actually, I just had a thought," Carrie says, her hand pausing. "We've got some people to tell about this and some decisions to make."

  "Oh, our friends might be a bit surprised, but I doubt any will be all that shocked. And for school, where we'll live in Jacksonville and how—"

  "Actually, I meant my parents." Carrie laughs lightly. "Don't you think we should tell them?"

  I stick out my lower lips, nodding thoughtfully. "Good point. Okay, let's fly them down and break the news to them, and we can discuss the other stuff when my mind isn't somewhere else."

  "Oh, you mean here?" Carrie asks as she shifts down, licking her lips before kissing the tip of my now rapidly-swelling cock.

  Chapter 24

  Carrie

  I'm nervous pulling up to the airport with Duncan in his new car. Well, not new. He followed Troy Wood's advice and bought a slightly used car, a two-year-old Volvo XC90, a choice that still makes me laugh. It’s not that it isn’t a great choice, it’s just that I’m sure somewhere inside Duncan is the motorcycle-riding thrill-seeker, but he's holding off until we're settled in more.

  "Hey, it's going to be okay," Duncan says, taking my hand as I stand in the short-term parking lot. "Come on, if this Volvo doesn't convince them that I'm a changed man who is worthy of their daughter's hand, I'm not sure what will. Unfortunately, I can't remove the tatts easily."

  "What are you talking about? You added to your ink,
" I remind him, touching his chest. It had been a spur of the moment decision, but we both sported ink now, Duncan wearing 'Carrie' over his heart while I now have 'Duncan' inscribed on the inside of my left wrist. I'd wanted it over my heart as well, but Duncan asked that I not put ink on, what he called, the most perfect breasts ever created. "I still feel weird not wearing my ring to keep this surprise. Just make sure you keep your shirt on until after we tell my folks, okay?"

  "That shouldn't be a problem. I doubt your Dad wants to see me shirtless anyway," Duncan teases back, taking my hand and kissing the fingertips before holding it. "It'll be okay."

  I nod, and we walk into the baggage terminal. Mom and Dad's flight is supposed to land in just a few minutes, so we're definitely early. I take a seat on one of the benches, Duncan taking the seat next to me.

  "I know it's going to be okay, I just . . . my parents, you know?" I say, taking a seat. "I'd like to keep things good between us. I'm not blaming you for your relationship with your parents. Your dad is a certifiable bastard, but it'd be nice if our baby has at least one set of good grandparents."

  "I agree," Duncan says without any rancor about me calling his dad a bastard. Actually, nobody has seen or heard from Winston Hart in months, and there have even been questions raised. The police, in fact, called Duncan yesterday, but he told them everything he knew, and that since then, he hadn't seen his father at all. I suspect that if anyone does find Winston Hart, it'll most likely be in Nevada. There's a lot of empty space in Nevada, a lot of desert where men can just . . . disappear. Still, part of me, a kinder part, hopes he's safe somewhere.

  "Delta Flight 7231, bags arriving at Carousel 12," a public address system says, and we stand up to make our way over.

  "That's them,” I say, waiting. The airport is huge, so big that even the baggage area needs multiple entrances and exits, and it's still another five minutes before I see Mom and Dad come down the escalator from the upper floor of the airport. "Mom! Dad!"

  They wave, Dad with their carry-on over his shoulder, and I'm relieved to see that they look good. Dad's not looking as stressed out as before, and Mom, if anything, looks younger.

  "Honey!" Mom calls, greeting me. She gives me a hug over the security barrier while Dad gets their bag, a single roller that they're sharing. "Oh, it was so nice to get your invitation. A surprise, but a welcome one."

  "I'm just glad Dad was able to make his schedule fit," I say as Mom lets go. "It's so awesome that you can come down."

  "Well, when you get such a mysterious invitation, how can you say no? Big news, a paid four days in a five-star hotel, and Duncan's graduating soon? By the way, it's good to see you, Duncan. You're looking very handsome today."

  "And you, Mrs. Mittel, are as lovely as your daughter," Duncan replies, giving Mom a hug and kiss on the cheek. "I'm glad you're staying in a hotel, because if you go anywhere near campus, you're going to have college guys all over you, and your husband is going to be very jealous."

  Mom actually blushes and smiles, playfully pushing Duncan away. "You're incorrigible, Duncan. And do I need to tell you again? Call me Cora."

  "Carrie tells me that all the time. But I'll try to remember, Cora.”

  Dad comes over, and Duncan offers his hand, which Dad takes, if not with a lot of enthusiasm, at least he isn't chilly. After all, in his point of view, Duncan and I have been dating for eight months now, so he's at least somewhat accepting of Duncan being part of my life. "Duncan, congrats on getting drafted."

  "Thank you, Mr. Mittel. I'm glad you guys get to be here for a visit. It means a lot to me."

  We go out to the Volvo, which surprises Dad. "Where'd you get this?"

  "Uh, there have been a lot of changes since the Sunshine Bowl," I say. "I didn't tell you, but Duncan lost his bike."

  "What happened? Did you get in an accident?" Mom asks, and Duncan shakes his head.

  "No, Cora, it was repossessed," Duncan answers without any shame. "Most of my lifestyle prior to the Sunshine Bowl was funded by my father. He got himself into a lot of financial troubles, and when the banks came to collect, I ended up with not a lot left. I'm just lucky that my apartment and school were pre-paid."

  "Well, that is news," Dad says, a new tone creeping into his voice. Is it grudging respect? "You must have learned a lot."

  "I have," Duncan says as he starts up and pulls out. He pays the machine, and we drive toward the Westin Downtown, where Mom and Dad are staying. "I learned a lot about how everyone else lives. It's given me some more appreciation of the contract that the Wildcats offered me."

  "It's an impressive one, I'll say," Dad says, not sure how to broach the subject. I mean, how do you talk to a man twenty-four years your junior who just signed a contract with a multimillion-dollar signing bonus, and another ten million dollars in guaranteed money over the next four years? "It even made the news."

  "Thanks. I really didn't want to haggle over it, and their first offer was good enough. And I've gotten in touch with the right financial people. Things are looking good there. Speaking of that, how's the trucking business going, Mr. Mittel?"

  "Good, but the back's acting up," Dad answers with a grumble. "I really need to drop a few pounds, get a decent health program going."

  "Well, if I can make a recommendation, your daughter's a miracle worker on that. I don't know about lower backs, but her work with elbows is world-class."

  I blush even though I've heard it before, but Dad looks pleased. We continue to exchange small talk until we get to the hotel, and Duncan parks, all of us going inside. In the lobby, Duncan stops, taking my hand. I clear my throat, exchanging a look with him. It's time. "Uh, Mom, Dad?"

  "Yes, sweetie?" Mom says, turning around. Dad, who's gone on a few steps ahead with his wheeling bag, also stops, raising an eyebrow. I think he’s expecting what's coming next, even if he might have his reservations about it.

  "Before you check in, Duncan and I have something to tell you," I say. I elbow Duncan, who's actually blushing and trying not to grin as realization dawns on Mom's face. "Duncan?"

  "Well, you guys know that Carrie and I have been dating for quite a few months now, and a week ago, I asked Carrie to marry me," Duncan says, reaching into his shirt pocket and taking out my ring, where we'd stashed it temporarily for safekeeping. I slip it on, while Dad comes up next to Mom, taking her hand, both of them lost with the reality of what's happening in front of them. "I'm happy to say she said yes."

  "You . . . you two are engaged," Dad says, then he swallows something in his throat and sets his bag up on his wheels before coming forward, giving me a hug before offering another handshake to Duncan. "Congratulations, Duncan."

  "Thank you, sir," Duncan says while Mom hugs me. "I know you've got your concerns, and with what Whitney's told me, I can't say I wouldn't have the same. I hope that you can set them aside in time for the wedding."

  Dad swallows again, looking a bit lost. "I guess . . . I'm still shocked. I'm a little old-fashioned, Duncan, and I was hoping that Carrie would have approached me to talk about this, maybe even gotten my blessing before accepting your proposal."

  "I understand," Duncan says. "I know it's a lot to swallow, so how about we talk about it at dinner? I've got a class this afternoon, last one of the week before I take the weekend off, and Carrie's gotten us reservations at some place called Tres Amigos. Apparently, you have a thing for Mexican food?"

  Dad nods, while Mom stands there, still speechless in shock. "Okay. Cora, let's get checked in and washed up. Carrie, are you going with Duncan, or can you stay with us for the afternoon?"

  "I cleared it with Coach Taylor. I'm taking the whole weekend off from interning," I say. "With basketball over, and the only big sports left being baseball and track, the load on the trainers is light for a while. Actually, I'd like to talk with you guys about that, too."

  "Oh good, you're not dropping out of school!" Mom says, her first words since our announcement. "I don't know why, but that just kept running around an
d around in my head."

  I give Duncan a kiss, and he says his farewells, going out to the car. He actually does have a class, and we thought my parents might need some time to adjust. Dad finishes check-in, and we take our key up to the suite that Duncan rented for the whole stay. It's nice, and while not a penthouse, it’s a good room. Dad sets their bag on the bed, while Mom finds the chair by the window and I arrange myself comfortably on the bed. I'm not showing yet, but I am feeling my body start to change, and it feels wonderful. I feel more complete than ever, powerful, and especially sexy when I see the desire in Duncan's eyes. "Thanks for not making a scene in the lobby, Dad. I could read it in your eyes."

  "Carrie, it's not that I'm not happy for you. It's obvious that you love Duncan very much, and after this many months, I guess my initial worries about your being a fling for him have to be set aside. But, what about school? What about your future? I mean, if Duncan blows out his knee or pops that elbow again, you're not going to be living a rich life."

  "Dad, Duncan's already taken the advice of one of the other players, and he has gotten in touch with a good investment banker. He's putting aside a good chunk of his signing bonus into savings and investments. He could never play a down of pro ball, and we'll be fine. Besides, he's got his degree, and I'll have mine too. We're going to be fine."

  "But honey, I don't want to . . . what's it you college kids say, throw shade?" Mom asks, and I laugh.

  "Don't try it, Mom. Just be you. And I can read your mind. Duncan's going to be away from home for half the games, there are football groupies, and all that, right? Don't worry, that was part of what we wanted to talk to you about. I discussed it all with Coach Taylor right after Duncan got drafted, even before he proposed. I'm going to move to Jacksonville with Duncan and do an internship with the Wildcats. I can also do a class online during the summer and the fall terms, so that after the season, I come back here, and I can wrap up my degree on time with one semester back at Western. If things go right, I'll even be in line for a position with the Wildcats myself next season. You guys can see me walk in May next year, just like we all planned."