by Angel Steel
Smiling down at him, she placed her hand on top of his, as their child kicked again. Having him there with her, feeling their child kick, she felt blessed.
“Does this happen all the time?” he whispered to her.
“Yeah, pretty much. But mostly at night, the baby is telling me it’s hungry.” She laughed.
Nate moved back from her, kneeling, and ready to get up. “I’ll go and make you something to eat.”
Skylar’s arm shot out, stopping him. Trailing her hand down to his exposed cock, she gripped it, and he groaned in response.
“I want this more,” she whispered.
Wrapping his hand around hers, and gliding their hands up and down over him, he asked, “Are you sure?”
“Please. I can’t take it anymore. I need you inside of me.”
Nate laid her down and picked up where he had left off, kissing her belly. “I need to taste you before I make love to you, baby.”
As he said that, his mouth was on her: sucking, licking, and nibbling her clit. Her body arched up, sending her nerves on high alert. Gripping the sheet with her hands, she squeezed his head between her legs. She pumped her hips up and down as his tongue dove into her core, clenching, like her life depended on it.
“Please, Nate.”
Growling, he tightened his grip on her thighs, pulled her sensitive bud into his mouth, and sucked hard. The stars exploded behind her eyes as she came, yelling his name as she felt her juices running from her.
“God, Sky. Your taste is heaven,” he mumbled, as he licked up every last drop.
Pushing down his jeans, he climbed up over her, rubbing his cock against her pussy. Crushing his mouth to hers, she gripped his head and their tongues entwined. Tasting herself on him, she sucked on his tongue the way she would his hardness, nipping at him.
Nate pulled his head away. “I don’t want to hurt you or the baby, doing this, Sky.”
“You won’t, Nate. It’s normal to have sex this far through the pregnancy, please, trust me,” she whispered back.
Rolling onto her side, she lifted her leg up and onto his shoulder, pulling him closer to her. She reached down and guided him to her opening. “It will be more comfortable this way, and it won’t hurt me or the baby,” she told him.
Nodding towards her, he held onto the leg that was on his shoulder, and slowly, very slowly, slid into her inch, by agonizing inch. Once he was fully inside of her, he sat there, not moving.
“Jesus, baby, you’re tight this way,” he groaned.
She whimpered, “You need to move, Nate.”
He let go of her leg and held onto her hips, pulling out until just the head of him was inside of her, and then pushed back in, all the way.
He did this several times, but she needed more.
“Please, I can’t handle slow right now; it has to be—”
That is all she got out as he pulled back and slammed forward, hard.
“Is this how you want it?” he said as he did it again.
“Yes!” she screamed.
His fingers dug into her hips as he pumped faster and faster into her. Her fists bunched the sheets as she screamed; she should have tried this position earlier with him. Grinding her hips against his, she reached up and pinched his nipple.
Pulling his hand from her hip, she slid one of his fingers into her mouth, and started sucking it just as her core was to his cock. Growling, he hammered into her with such ferocity that she thought she would end up through the headboard.
“I’m not going to last much long if you keep that up, and with the way your pussy is choking me, I think I’m going to die from the feel of it.”
She couldn’t reply as he shoved another finger in her mouth, forcing her to suck them. She did. The faster he pumped into her, the faster she sucked.
“Damn, Sky,” he groaned, again.
Shifting his hand down to her clit, he pinched. “I need you to come, Sky. I can’t hold off too much longer.”
She felt him thickening inside of her. Gripping him as hard she could, she let go, and her world around her shattered at the force of her orgasm. It went on for eternity, and she screamed as her whole body shook from the impact.
Nate groaned as he pushed forward and held himself as deep inside as he could, as he shot his load into her.
She gasped for air as Nate’s body fell on top of her, breathing heavy. She welcomed the heaviness of his body. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, but thought twice at it, as he would think that—them spending their time together like that—would mean they were getting back together, which they weren’t. They were scratching an itch, that’s all.
Pushing at him to move, she grumbled, “Can’t breathe, Nate.”
Nate lifted himself up and off of her, and she twisted over onto her back to look up at him. With a hand on each side of her face, he said, “That was amazing, baby.” He leant down and lightly kissed her.
“I love you, Skylar,” he mumbled against her lips. She shook her head; she didn’t want him telling her that, not now.
Placing a finger over her lips, he whispered to her, “I do, baby. And you don’t have to reciprocate it. I just wanted to tell you that I still do, and that I have never stopped loving you.”
She nodded, as that was the only thing she could do. She did love him; she just couldn’t return it to him, after what he had done.
Nate rolled to her side, pulling her into his chest, and wrapped his arm over her belly. “I love you, and our baby you are carrying. I will do anything you want, Sky. Anything,” he whispered into her hair.
She was glad she was facing away from him as the tears streamed down her face. She wanted to show her love to him, but it was hard. She needed to sort herself out first, before she could do that for him. Sky snuggled deeper into his embrace. She would live in this moment for now, until tomorrow came.
Chapter 12
Chantal drove down Waterford Avenue, and pulled up out front of her own shop. She was meeting Bryan, as he was dropping off the shop fittings. Sliding out of her car, she walked up to the shop. The windows were covered so no one could see in them. A wood panel was over the door, and the old shop sign was covered as well.
Slipping her key in to open the door, she stepped inside. Pushing past a box here and there, she stood in the center of the room. Slowly spinning around, she realised she had finally done it. I am opening my own shop! She was so proud of herself, and felt only a small amount of excitement that she had gone against her father’s wishes.
She wanted to prove to them that she could do anything on her own, but really wasn’t expecting what her father, Malcolm had said—more like told her.
Siting in the formal dining room across from her parents, she was nervous as hell. She thought she would have more time to tell them; obviously, she was wrong.
She had cancelled so many family dinner nights, so she could work out exactly what she would say, but really didn’t want to do it then. Her plan was to tell them that night, which is why she drove over their way. She reconsidered that decision, but then her parents brought it up
“So, how have you been?” Elizabeth asked.
Here goes nothing!
“Um, good. Been busy,” she replied before taking a sip of her drink.
“Did you finish up on the Anderson’s file? John told me you were meant to turn it in yesterday.” Malcolm looked at her.
“Yes. I placed it on his desk, last night.” It was all business with her father, nothing more. Every time she either tried to change the subject, or started talking about her friends, he would growl at her. The world did not revolve around work.
“Good, good.”
“I need to tell you guys something?” she whispered. She wanted to be the first to say something, not them.
“What is it, dear?” her mother purred. She hated being called that; it was as bad as her name.
“Well, I wanted to know how you both feel as to me buying my own shop?”
“I love it, darl
ing. What kind will you open?” Elizabeth said excitedly.
She stood, and said, “I’ll go and grab my bag; I have everything in a folder for you both the look at.” Running off down the hall, and stopping in her room, she almost broke the handle on her bag as she ripped it off the bed head. She couldn’t believe that they had actually let her leave the table like that. Giggling, she strolled back in, and sat down again.
Reaching into her bag, she pulled out her folder. Flicking through the pages until she found the one she wanted, she brought it out and handed it to her mother first. Her mother would support her idea, but she knew her father would not agree, unless it was his idea or in his line of work, nothing more.
Glancing towards her father, Chantal cleared her throat. “The shop used to be a bank.” Pulling out another piece of paper and standing beside him, she pointed down. “It has a really good sized closed in office, a bathroom off to the right by the back door, and storage closet on the other side of the bathroom. Well, it will be the storage closet once the vault is out.”
Malcolm frowned down at the paper in his hand, as Elizabeth shot out of her chair and wrapped her arms around her.
“That is a really good idea. Let me call Angie, she has a range of formal gowns that she could sell in your shop.”
Ripping the paper out of her mother’s hand, Malcolm glanced down at it then back at her. This was so not going to be good, she thought as she gulped.
“You’re buying a place to turn it into a clothes shop,” he growled.
She backed away from him, although he would never hurt her, but she was still scared a little of his temper.
“Chantilly, is this your plan?”
Nodding, she whispered, “It not a clothes shop in sort.”
Shoving the paper in her face, he pointed out, “It says clothes shop here...If it’s not that, what is it?” he asked fiercely.
She swallowed the knot in her throat. “It’s a lingerie shop that I am opening.”
“You are damn well not opening a lingerie shop, Chantilly. Not acceptable.” He slammed the paper onto the table, making her jump.
“That has been my dream for a while now, and I will open it.” This was the first time she had ever stood up to her father, and it scared her.
Malcolm spun round. “Excuse me, young lady?”
She stood taller. “I have already made an offer on the lot, much smaller than what they wanted, and if and when they accept, I will own that shop by the weekend, or I’ll just go and look for another.”
Malcolm stomped over and stood right in front of her, glancing at her mother at the same time.
“The only thing you will do with the shop if they accept the offer is turn it into a law firm. I will send over some colleagues to help you out, but that’s it. I will not have my only daughter selling that crap,” he stated before he stormed out of the dining room.
She didn’t want that. Huffing out a breath, she followed him. She had never gone this far with her father, but she didn’t care anymore. This was for her, not to make them happy.
“I will go through with this, daddy. I have never asked both of you for anything, ever. And since this is the first for asking for something, all I want is your blessing, that is it.”
Leaning over, she grabbed the piece of paper from her mother had, and handed it to him.
“This is the plan for my shop, so far.”
He scrunched the paper up. “I will not let my daughter sell anything to do with sex, and that is!” Malcolm growled as he pointed to his hand.
“I’m not selling sex, daddy. It’s lingerie. There is a difference between selling sex and selling sexy clothing.”
“I’m not having you do that, Chantilly. I won’t allow it. Do you know how many people will find out that you own a sex shop?”
“It’s not a sex shop, dad. I’ll sell clothing, nothing more,” she sobbed.
“I dislike the idea of you owning that shop. I want you to stay working at the firm, and meet a nice young man to settle down with and start a family. You will have no reason to work after that.”
“I already tried that, it didn’t work out remember?” she hissed. She had never acted like this in front of her father—sure, she did with her mother, but her father was a different story.
“We are not talking about that man in this house.”
“Oh, we could set her up within the next month; she needs a date for the charity ball next month. That is plenty of time to pick a candidate.” Elizabeth giggled.
Now she was in for it. Whenever her mother had made up her mind, there was no way of changing it.
“I can find my own date, mom.”
“No, I have the perfect man for you, Chantilly. He is so perfect in every way,” she cooed.
“I already am seeing someone, Mother.” Crap, she had not thought before she spoke. Now she had to ask Joel to be her date to the charity ball—stupid, stupid.
Her father crossed his arms over his chest. “So, who is this young man that will be accompanying you to the ball?”
“Joel Spencer. I went to school with him.”
“I remember young Joel; didn’t he just finish his diploma?”
Her mother knew every available bachelor in Glacier, she had no idea how she did, but guessed it was since she was on nearly every committee there was, and even though knowing everyone that lived in a 100 mile radius around their house was a little extreme, her mother liked to get out and meet new people. Ever since she turned 18, her mother had set her up on so many dates, trying to find the one for her, but she never came close. The one she wanted most was never going to be with her or meet her parents. Besides, they would never approve of him.
“No, he hasn’t. He still has 2 years left on it.”
“I’ll look up on him, and then we will talk.”
She was not here to talk about her next date. “I’m still opening the shop,” she shouted.
“Not up for discussion. You will only concentrate on working for the firm.”
Damn it, this had not gone the way she had hoped. There was only one thing to do to get through to her pig-headed father. “No. If you can’t accept it, and be happy for me that I am doing something that I want, I won’t be coming over anymore.” Once said, she grabbed her bag and walked towards the door, and after opening it, she looked back. Glancing in her mother’s direction, she gasped and saw the tears streaming down her cheeks, but she held her own back.
“That is your choice, Chantilly,” her father mumbled as he walked out of the room, away from her. Smiling weakly at her mother, she closed the door behind her. That wasn’t the way it was supposed to go. She wanted their blessing, not only her mother’s.
It had taken her father a month to come around, and although he still did not like the idea, it was something she wanted, so he accepted it. He came to meet her at her shop so she could show him how everything would work out. Walking through, they discussed the design, and he gave his feedback for it. She loved to spend time with him, even more so that they weren’t talking about his law firm.
Shaking the thoughts aside, she stepped over a box and slipped, landing on her butt. “Shit.” What the hell did she slip on? Looking around, all she saw were boxes. Crawling around the last one she stood over, there sat a pile of mail. Pulling herself up carefully, she picked the mail up. Limping towards the back to her office, and careful not to do the same thing again, she sat down. Flicking through it all, she saw there was mail for the old owners, two bills for the shop across the street, and one for her. Weird. No one besides her parents and Skylar knew about the shop, and Bryan.
Ripping the envelope open, she read the letter:
Chantal,
I have loved you from the first moment I saw you.
You are mine and no one else’s. We will finally be together soon.
XOXO
Frowning, she wondered who the hell this was letter from. Checking over it for an address or something, she got nothing in return. There wasn’t e
ven a stamp on it—just her name. Freaky much? Laughing to herself, she shoved the letter into her bag as a loud bang erupted from the front of the shop.
Her hand flew up to her mouth, covering a gasp. She slid her chair further into the office. Holy shit! Whoever wrote that letter was here, now. Reaching for her phone, she had no clue who to dial, but the first name to pop up on her screen was Joey. He would be here in an instant, if there were something wrong. Getting here breathing under control, she moved closer to the door. “Who’s there?” she yelled out. Her thumb hovered over Joey’s number, ready to call.
“Channy, open the door. This isn’t exactly light you know.”
Sighing in relief, she limped to the door, and opened it. “Hey Bryan.”
“Hey, Channy. Where do you want it?” Bryan said as he smiled down at her.
“Bryan.” She scolded, placing her hands on her hips. What was with the name?
“Sorry. Chantal. Better?”
“Yes. You know I hate you calling me that, right?”
“I love it when you get so fired up over it, plus it’s cute.” He laughed at her.
Stupid man. Limping past him, she instructed, “You can put it down here.” As she pointed to the left side of the shop, she moved back towards her office.
Bryan pulled her up short. “What’s wrong. Why are you limping?” he asked as he checked over her.
Chantal pushed his hand away. “Nothing, I just slipped over and twisted my ankle.”
“Are you sure you are ok, it looks painful.” He grimaced.
“I will be. I’m might go home and put my foot up.”
“I think that is a good idea,” he agreed, then motioned to the space she had indicated, and asked, “Where, right here? Once I put up the new change rooms, I’ll lock up for you and be back tomorrow morning, to put up the new shelves and boxes.” After placing the fixtures down, he walked up to her.
“Go home, and get better. Don’t want you to hurt yourself any more than you have.”