Two Is a Lonely Number

by Amanda Torrey

  “Need some help?”

  “Nope. All set. Go ahead into the living room and we’ll get started on that movie marathon.”

  Her coffee table was covered in a small, decorated tree and several gift boxes, neatly wrapped with bows and all.

  “Ben! What the heck is all of this?”

  “Ho, ho, ho!” He shouted from the kitchen.

  “Didn’t we say no gifts?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  She shuffled her fluffy slippers back to the kitchen.

  “I distinctly remember a text conversation we had while you were away stating there would be no gift exchange. I don’t have anything for you.”

  She was an ass. A selfish jerk. She should have known he’d have gifts—he’d been showering her with stuff since she first told him about the pregnancy.

  “That’s quite all right. I’d never go against my word. Santa must have brought those.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Ooh. The baby is wiggling again.”

  His eyes brightened. He looked mesmerized.

  “Want to try to feel? I haven’t felt it from the outside yet, but maybe you will.”

  He shook his head. “That’s okay.”

  “Come on, feel!”

  “No, I’m good.”

  Okay, so he was repulsed by her.

  Whatever.

  She poured herself some juice and planted her butt on the couch, eager to relax in front of one of the old movies she had lined up.

  Ben joined her in the living room. “Have to open presents before we start the movie.”

  “So now you’re making the rules? Aren’t you the guest?”

  “Technically, I guess. But Santa asked me to be in charge today.”

  As usual around him, she smiled. She couldn’t stay mad at him. She didn’t blame him for his repulsion—she had been pretty weirded out herself. He’d come around.

  Or he wouldn’t.

  Didn’t matter to her.

  He handed her the gifts, one at a time. She smiled when she opened little baby toys. A mini baseball hat. Fuzzy socks for her. Scented bubble bath. Her favorite candy.

  And a camera. A better model than her dearly departed camera.

  “Ben.” Astonished, she didn’t know how to address his generosity.

  “If you don’t like that one, we can exchange it.”

  Was he kidding? This was top of the line. She never would have been able to afford it. Ever.

  “I can’t accept this.”

  “You have to. It’s from Santa.”

  “I told you I’d replace my camera on my own.”

  “Yes, and that was a while ago. I want you to have it. Please.”

  “It’s too much.”

  “Not at all. You deserve it. Besides, we’ll need a good camera to photograph Junior.”

  “Junior?”

  “Not really, but I didn’t know what else to call him.”

  Karly placed the package down carefully on the floor beside her chair, then leapt into his arms. He fell back in the chair, laughing as she kissed his cheeks.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

  “So you do want to sit on Santa’s lap?”

  “Santa’s a very generous man.”

  “You must have been very good this year.”

  “Oh, I’ve been good,” she purred. “You should know that.”

  She thought he moaned in agreement, but he had removed his hands from her back and gripped the arms of the chair with his eyes closed.

  She could take a hint.

  Mustering up some dignity, she removed herself from his lap.

  “Movie time?” he asked, as if nothing awkward had passed between them.

  “Indeed.”

  She handed him the remote, figuring that since she chose the movies, he could determine the order in which they watched them.

  “Sorry I didn’t get you anything. I owe you.”

  He paused the movie and leaned forward in the chair.

  “Karly, you’re giving me a child. I think you’re all set for the next eighteen years or so in the gift-giving department.”

  “How sweet of me to give you a gift you didn’t want. Besides, have you read the part in the book about when they become toddlers? You may reconsider at that point.”

  “I’ll let you know.”

  And he put that damned wink to work, making her feel all warm and fuzzy and erotic again.

  Damn him and his power over her.

  Damn her and her libido that refused to die.

  Damn, damn, damn!

  ***

  The passing weeks were marked with a rapidly expanding belly, multiple changes in cravings, and better, thicker hair. As the weeks turned into months, Karly moved out of one bad stage only to enter another.

  How could women stand to be pregnant multiple times? This was torture.

  Not for Ava, though. Ava’s skin glowed. She never got sick. Her ankles didn’t swell. Hell, at six months along she had barely started to show. From the back, she didn’t look pregnant at all. Karly looked like she was carrying octuplets.

  Ben had followed through on his promise to be her masseuse. He stopped by every morning on his way to work with a fresh bagel and decaffeinated French vanilla coffee from Tiana’s. He stopped by every evening for a deliriously amazing foot massage. Nothing had ever felt as erotic as having his strong thumb pressed deep into the arch of her foot. She thought about it all day.

  He was completely committed to making sure she ate her fruits and veggies, too, even if it meant forcing grapes into her mouth. She found herself pretending to fight him just so she could live out a brief fantasy of his fingers against her lips.

  Her body pulsed with the need to have him.

  Her vibrator just wasn’t doing it for her anymore.

  Hell, soon she probably wouldn’t even be able to reach at the rate she was growing.

  One night, Ben stopped by with extra-large steak and cheese subs and a DVD. He didn’t wait for an invitation to stay. He plopped down on her couch, placed a tablecloth over her coffee table, opened two bottles of water and a container of pre-cut celery sticks, and served their dinner on paper plates.

  “Sorry I was late getting here. I ran into Julia and the baby while I was picking up dinner.”

  Karly smiled. “I didn’t even know you were coming.” Okay, so that was a lie. She had grown accustomed to his arrival every evening. “How’s she doing with the baby?”

  “Pretty damned good. Apparently Officer Jenkins is a big help to her. The kid is cute.”

  “Hmm. Could the good old officer finally be getting some?”

  Ben grinned. “Not something I like to think about, but I guess it’s possible.”

  Karly unwrapped the overloaded sub and breathed in the rich, meaty scent before taking a big bite.

  “How did you know I was craving this?” Crumbs fell from her mouth as she talked around the buttery crisp sub roll, but she didn’t care. She was lost in culinary goodness.

  “You’re pretty easy to convince.”

  She kicked him. He held onto her ankle.

  He continued to eat as he drew swirls on her swollen leg.

  “My legs are disgusting.”

  He shook his head, putting the last bit of his sub on the plate and staring at her as he finished chewing.

  “There’s nothing disgusting about you.”

  Between his gentle touch, his sweet words, and the fact that she hadn’t had sex in forever, she could have orgasmed right there.

  “Ben…”

  Could she ask him? Why the hell not? She was carrying his baby. She deserved sex. After the kid ripped apart her vagina (since he or she was roughly the size of a blue whale by now and would weigh over a ton, destroying her previously pristine vajayjay), she’d never find anyone to go near her southern grand canyon again.

  He owed her.

  “You need something?”

&n
bsp; She nodded, licking her lips. Why was she so nervous? She could ask for what she wanted. She had never had a problem before.

  “More water? Chips? Or did you want to skip straight to dessert again?”

  She shook her head. Couldn’t he read her eyes? The desire had to be leaping off like an overly lit billboard in Times Square.

  “Everything okay?”

  His eyes drew together, and he looked her up and down in the complete opposite way that she wanted him to. She was all set with concern. She wanted lust, dammit!

  “Why do you ask like that?”

  “You look…”

  “I look what? Go ahead and say it, Ben. I look atrocious. Fat. Ugly. Unattractive. Unfit for humanity.”

  She tossed her sub onto her plate and jerked her foot away from his grasp. She hoisted herself up and storm-waddled to the kitchen.

  “None of those words describe you.”

  He was behind her in an instant, wrapping his arms around her, cradling her belly like it was the most precious thing in the world.

  “It’s not fair,” she whined.

  God, how she hated herself.

  “I wish I could take a turn, Karly. I really do.”

  “No, it’s not fair.”

  “That’s why—”

  “You get to have sex and I don’t. It sucks.”

  He chuckled into her hair, then lightly bit the top of her ear.

  “That’s what you think, huh?”

  “Well I sure as hell can’t have sex. Who the hell would have this?” She gestured over her bloated body.

  “Me.”

  He turned her to face him.

  “I didn’t realize you missed sex.”

  Was he serious?

  “Easy for you to say. You probably hook up with someone every night. Nothing had to change for you.”

  He laughed again. His erection poked her.

  “How the hell would I be out having sex when I’m here practically every minute that I’m not working?”

  “Oh, come on,” she said, but a tingle danced inside her. “I’m sure the women line up outside your house waiting for their turn.”

  “True.” Ben smiled and winked. “But I send them on their way. I haven’t been with anyone. At all. Except in my fantasies, which are all centered around you.”

  “Give it a rest, Ben.”

  “Don’t believe me?”

  “Not in the slightest.”

  “Fine, take off your clothes. I’ll prove it.”

  “How?”

  “I won’t last more than three seconds.”

  She allowed herself to imagine what it could mean if he had been telling the truth. She was certain he was protecting her feelings, telling white lies to ease the pain, but even so—didn’t that mean he cared? About more than just the baby?

  “I really miss it.” There was the whine again. “Sex.”

  He cleared his throat.

  “You should have spoken up sooner.”

  He lifted her effortlessly in his arms—no small feat since she weighed as much as a small planet.

  He kicked his way into her room and lowered her onto the bed, not even bothering to remove the pile of laundry she had thrown there, fully intending to get around to folding it later.

  With his body pressed against hers, she allowed herself to get lost in every sensation. The power of his biceps holding himself over her, the delicious pressure of his thighs against hers, the panty-dampening scent of his cologne, and his raw maleness. This may wind up a one-time thing, but even before he touched her, she knew she’d relive the memory for the rest of her spinster days.

  Waiting for him to make the next move was almost painful. She reached for his erection, but he captured her hand and placed it over her head.

  Imprisoned by his strength and the potent hold he had without having to restrict her physically, she allowed herself to look at him as the man she had desired more than any other. The one she had thought out of her reach. The one who had tracked her down at the wedding and gave her experiences she’d never forget.

  That had all been for fun. This felt like something more.

  With his free hand, he brushed the hair away from her forehead and brought his hot lips to her fevered skin.

  “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

  She wanted to laugh. Or slap him. Or tell him he already had permission to do whatever he wanted to with her, so why go through the effort of seduction and lies, but instead tears gathered and she couldn’t stop one from escaping.

  He captured the runaway tear with his kiss.

  “You think I’m lying. Or that I’m being a masterful player. But I haven’t been able to consider anyone else since our time together. I haven’t even looked.”

  She closed her eyes and breathed deep, growing more and more intoxicated with every breath.

  “Karly, you have no idea how much I’ve wanted to touch you. Every moment that you allow me to massage your feet or your neck gives me more pleasure than any sexual experience I’ve had. I know it sounds corny, and I have probably lost my mind, but I almost feel too nervous to touch you intimately. You’re like the head cheerleader and I’m the shaking freshman geek.”

  She laughed at his analogy, but it sort of came out as a hiccup or a snort and probably ruined the moment.

  “I see. I pour my heart out to you and you laugh at me. Definitely the head cheerleader.”

  Before she could respond, his lips began the process of making love to her mouth. Exquisite. Divine. She easily lost herself in the swirl of his tongue around hers. Somewhere along the way he had released his hold on her hand, freeing her to wrap her arms around his head and pull him deeper into the kiss.

  His hand toyed with her breast, tugging on her ultra-sensitive nipples and stroking the swollen beast. Her old bras has stopped fitting months ago, so she had resorted to wearing sports bras around the clock. He pulled the bra up, stretching the material and catching her breast as it bounced into his palm.

  His groan into her mouth fueled her passion.

  “A perk of pregnancy,” he said, sucking on her lower lip.

  He kissed his way down, burying his face in her under-boob before capturing her nipple between his teeth. He scraped gently, maddeningly, making her arch into his tropically warm mouth. His other hand manipulated her other lonely nipple, making sure to spread his magic all around.

  “Be-e-e-e-e-e-en,” she groaned, her voice sounding animalistic and raw.

  He responded by caressing her belly, playing with her newly-outie belly button.

  She lifted her hips, beckoning him to bring the game to the field.

  He obliged.

  Oh, did he oblige.

  His fingers slipped below her waistband, teasing her with his gentle strokes. A finger penetrated her, making her cry out from the sheer ecstasy. His thumb landed in exactly the right spot, and she writhed under his touch. Soon he added another finger, stretching and reaching until she was singing soprano and he was bringing her down from the moon.

  He kissed her belly, apologizing to the baby for any disruption he had caused. He then kissed a trail down to her dampness, inhaling deeply before retracing his steps with his tongue replacing his fingers.

  Karly gripped the sheets, shocked at the level of intensity with which he worshipped her body.

  This particular journey was an uphill climb—up and up and up, higher than she thought possible. He laved and sucked and nibbled, delivering a multitude of sensations. When she thought she couldn’t take any more, he slipped his fingers inside her and revved her up to an intensity she couldn’t have possibly imagined. She opened her eyes to see him staring up at her as his face remained buried.

  “Ben, I need you—ohhhhh—inside me—holy—now!”

  He increased his pace to an urgency that had her tightening her thighs around him and ripping the sheet off the bed around her.

  He didn’t stop until she had landed back on earth. His strokes slowed, ma
tching what she needed with each hitched breath.

  He kissed her thighs and hips, and when she tried to maneuver him so she could keep the momentum going, he grasped her hand and nibbled on her fingers. He kissed a trail around her hand, making her giggle when he licked her palm.

  “Ahh, a ticklish spot, huh?”

  He licked her other palm as if to test the theory. He then licked her hipbone, hidden near her baby bulge, making her laugh and kick.

  “Stop that! I’ll pee myself!”

  He increased the tickling, not scared of her very real threat.

  She tried to tickle him back, but he had gone into all-out tickle mode and was attacking her ribs and her armpits.

  She wrapped her legs around his waist and jerked him toward her. She drank in the rugged handsomeness of the crinkling joy at the corners of his eyes and the fire circling his pupils.

  She squeezed her legs, pulling him closer, loving the way his ass cheeks tightened against her leg muscles. He slipped inside her without ceremony, and she, fully lubricated and beyond ready, accommodated his girth with a sigh.

  His lack of movement frustrated her. He maintained eye contact, and she had never felt more of a shock of intimacy than she did at that moment. Fully joined, their baby growing between them, linked together at every juncture.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said, studying her reverently.

  She hadn’t been feeling beautiful. Her breasts had grown too large, her waistline was non-existent, and her skin had broken out worse than her pre-teen years.

  But with this god of a man hovering over her, buried deep inside, staring at her like she was a priceless work of art, she felt beautiful.

  She pulled his shoulders down, wanting to feel his chest pressed against hers.

  He nuzzled her neck while he slowly began to thrust.

  She lifted her hips to match his strokes.

  The old Karly had never been into the missionary position—she preferred to yield the control and use her body to the best advantage.

  This didn’t feel old-fashioned or boring. This felt…magical. Intimate. Perfect.

  She rolled her hips, enjoying the way he felt from every angle. He moaned along with her, then increased the pace.

  He devoured her neck, then her breast, then nibbled on her shoulder as she reached a peak higher than she had ever climbed.