by J. Sterling
I sniffed and wiped at the tears now freely falling down my cheeks. “I’m sorry that I’m making spaghetti again.”
He laughed. “Is that why you’re so upset?” He kissed my cheek and brushed my tears away with his thumb.
“Why are you crying, Mama?” Matson appeared at my side, his forehead crinkled with concern as he stared up at my tearstained face.
“Hey, buddy.” Ryan turned around and gave him a high five. “How was school?”
“Fine. Why is Mama crying?” he whispered to Ryan, but I could still hear him.
“She thinks we’ll be mad at her,” Ryan whispered back.
“How come?”
“Because she’s making us spaghetti for dinner.” Ryan made a yukky face, and Matson mimicked it.
“Not again.”
Matson sounded so crestfallen that it made my tears fall even harder. I hated disappointing my son in any way, food included, apparently.
Why couldn’t I remember being this emotional the last time I had a baby? Everything about this pregnancy seemed so different. I felt completely out of control. My emotions were out of whack, my body was massive, and I forgot everything. All. The. Time.
“If you don’t like it, I’ll take you out for burgers after.” Ryan looked at me and winked, but the mere mention of burgers made my stomach flip.
“Promise?” Matson asked, and Ryan nodded.
“If you two are done talking about me like I’m not here, we can eat. Matson, will you grab some bowls, please, and set the table?”
“Yes, Mama.” He reached up to place his hand on my belly and spoke to it. “I hope you come out soon so we can eat other stuff again.”
I stared down at my son’s head and ran my fingers through his hair as I came to a decision.
“Actually, you two go. Please.” I took the bowls from Matson’s hands and pointed toward the front door. “Go out and eat whatever you want. Just don’t bring it home, because I can’t even smell it at this point without getting nauseated.”
Ryan looked between Matson and me. “Is this a trick?” he asked, and I laughed.
“No. I mean it. Go!” I shooed them away, but Ryan refused to move.
“I don’t want to leave you alone. You’re going to eat dinner by yourself?”
He looked so uncomfortable at the idea of leaving me all alone. Ryan Fisher was still, hands down, the sweetest man I’d ever met in my life.
“I’m a big girl, Ryan. Please take Matson for something that doesn’t resemble noodles and sauce so I don’t ruin Italian food for him forever.”
“You’re sure?” he asked.
I tossed a set of keys toward Ryan, and he caught them easily.
“I’m sure.” I scanned his face, his clouded expression clearly communicating that he was torn. “Look, it would really help me out if you took him so I don’t have to do it later.”
That was all it took.
The crease between Ryan’s eyes disappeared and his frown turned into a slight grin. “We’ll be back, angel.”
“’Bye, Mama,” Matson shouted as they turned and headed toward the door.
My heart swelled as I watched them leave. I’d never get tired of seeing them interact. I never realized just how badly my son needed a father until Ryan came into our lives.
With the sound of Ryan’s car backing out of the driveway, I sat down to eat what had to be my 589th bowl of pasta since Ryan knocked me up. After dinner, I cleaned up the kitchen and checked over Matson’s homework while I waited for the boys to come home.
When they walked through the door with huge smiles on their faces, relief coursed through my entire body. I wanted them to be happy, and I knew I was making them miserable. After some family television time, Ryan read to Matson in bed while I took a shower and washed my much-neglected hair.
My feet were almost completely hidden from me now. I could only see the hint of toes sticking out whenever I looked down at my naked body. And I couldn’t remember the last time I’d actually seen my vagina. I lost her first, and had no idea what she was up to down there or how she looked. Everything was hidden underneath my giant baby-making belly.
No one told you those kinds of things, like how weird it would be to suddenly lose sight of body parts you’d always been able to see. But they never hesitated to tell you how turned on you’d be. How pregnancy hormones weren’t only a very real thing, but that they’d take over your mind like a sex-crazed teenage boy at times. Just looking at Ryan was enough to turn me on to the point that I was convinced he could see the want dripping down my legs.
With my hair towel-dried, I wrapped a robe around my body and attempted to fasten the tie around my waist, but failed. I’d outgrown bath towels weeks ago, and now I’d outgrown my favorite robe. I’d known it was coming eventually, but still couldn’t stop the annoying sting that coursed through me as I added it to the list of things that no longer fit.
Groaning, I flung open the bathroom door and caught a glimpse of Ryan lying on the bed, shirtless. Everything that mattered before that moment faded away in a rush of desire.
I wanted that man. My man.
When I cleared my throat, Ryan looked up, his blue eyes locking on mine. His gaze followed the open fabric down my breasts and to my stomach, and lingered on my legs. He looked at me like he wanted to eat me up, even though his actions said otherwise. Ryan had become gentle in the bedroom, too gentle. I was starting to think I was going to have to go all Viking warrior princess to get him to have sex with me the way he used to.
As I walked toward him, he pushed himself up to a sitting position. Perfect, I thought as I moved onto the mattress and then on top of him.
“Sofia.” His voice sounded strained as I straddled him, then slowly moved my hips, grinding against him.
I smiled when I felt that he was already hard.
“Don’t you dare say it, Ryan,” I warned.
He widened his eyes, faking innocence. “Say what?”
“That you’re going to hit the baby in the head. That you think the baby will see your penis and be scarred for life. Or any of those things.”
“But I don’t understand how I’m not hitting him,” he said as I narrowed my eyes at him. “Or her.”
“You’re just not, okay? You’re not hitting the baby. Your giant penis is nowhere near your child, but it’s going to be on the floor if you don’t stick it inside me right now.”
“Good God, woman, being pregnant has made you mean.”
Just like that, the waterworks started as I rolled off of him.
“I know. I’m sorry, but please have sex with me. Why are you making me beg?” The tears refused to stop, and I knew I was being completely irrational and annoying, thanks to these hormones. “You don’t think I’m sexy anymore, do you? Is that the real reason why you don’t want to do it?”
Ryan’s eyes grew wide. “Are you kidding? Have you seen yourself?”
“Of course I’ve seen myself. That’s why I’m asking,” I snapped at him, practically biting his head off.
My body had changed, and it would be ridiculous to pretend otherwise. My face was rounder, my hips wider than ever, and there was extra fluff on every square inch of me. I didn’t feel the least bit sexy or attractive. No, I felt like a walrus or a hippopotamous, one of those large, ungainly animals.
“Sofia, you’re stunning,” he said softly as he reached for me. “You glow without trying, and I get hard whenever I look at you.”
“Really? Even now?” I glanced at the crotch of his jeans, noticing the unmistakable bulge there.
“Even now. Nick yelled at me today because I couldn’t stop staring at your picture.”
Ryan’s lips found my hand, my knuckles, and my wrist, then moved up my arm and landed on my neck. I groaned because every touch felt so damned good.
“I want you,” I breathed out as he nipped at my flesh.
His lips were instantly on mine, his tongue pressing inside my mouth like desire was fueling him from the
inside out. My mouth opened for him, my tongue searching for his.
“You’re so beautiful, angel. So fucking beautiful.” He kissed me again, his hands gently kneading my sensitive breasts. “Does that hurt?”
“No,” I said, and his mouth moved to my nipples, sucking one inside and then biting it gently, eliciting a half moan, half scream from me. My hips ground in a circular motion as I begged, “Don’t stop.”
“I’m not going to stop until I make you come.”
His words alone were almost my undoing. “I love that dirty mouth.”
“Being pregnant has changed you,” he said, teasing.
I reached for his neck, pulling his head again toward my waiting breasts, and he eagerly obliged my nonverbal request. I threw my head back in pleasure, loving every single thing this man was doing to my body.
His fingers entered me, curving and finding my spot. He worked them in and out as he traced a line lower on my body with his tongue. Lowering his head between my thighs, he licked, softly at first, then dived in like it was his last meal.
“Holy fuck.” The thought in my mind flew right out of my mouth without restraint.
“Good, angel?” he murmured, keeping his mouth on me as his fingers slid in and out, driving me crazy.
“Hell yes, babe. So good.”
I tangled my fingers in his hair and pulled him tight against me, praying he wouldn’t stop until I came, which was going to be in about ten seconds if he kept using his magic tongue on me.
“I love you. I love you so fucking much,” he murmured against me, still licking and sucking.
“I love you too. I’m gonna come.”
My release crept up on me, slowly at first, then bursting with sudden ferocity.
“Oh, Ryan. Don’t stop. I’m . . .” I moaned and bucked against his face as my insides exploded, ecstasy streaking through my body like a meteor shower.
When I finally stilled after my orgasm, breathing hard, Ryan smiled as he moved his body above mine, the tip of his dick at my entrance.
“Stop,” I said, and he froze.
“Are you okay?”
“Get on your back.”
“So bossy,” he mocked, but he did as I asked.
I positioned him at my entrance and lowered myself slowly at first. Then took him all the way in, as fully as I could.
“You feel amazing,” he said, his eyes locked on mine.
I couldn’t have looked away from him if I tried. Our connection was too strong.
As I rocked on top of him, my body heavier than it had ever been, I wondered if I was crushing Ryan with my weight. But he never complained or said a word other than it felt amazing.
Desire pulsed through me, and my need to have him hard and fast took over. I fucked him harder than ever, becoming a wild thing. Nothing was enough. I was insatiable.
Suddenly, something inside me ached, cramped, and I froze as the pain ricocheted through my insides.
“Sofia? Angel?” Ryan’s strong hands gripped my shoulders as he pulled me off of him easily and laid me down on the mattress.
I tried to catch my breath. “It hurts. Something’s wrong,” I said through clenched teeth as pain ripped through me.
“Don’t move,” he said, and I felt the bed dip.
It seemed like no time had passed and then he was fully dressed, kneeling in front of me with clothes for me in hand. “Let’s get you dressed.”
“But . . . Matson.” I forced out the words through my discomfort, not sure what I meant. It was hard to think straight. I’d never experienced pain like this.
“I’ll call your mom,” he said, but then I reminded him that she was sick and keeping her distance so I didn’t catch whatever she had. “Right. Mariana then?”
When I nodded, he fired off a text to Matson’s other grandma. Then he lifted me to my feet and helped me dress. I hated maternity clothes.
“Grant and Mariana are on their way.”
“They were together?” I tried to sound playful, but it came out strained instead.
“Apparently,” he deadpanned without any of the lightness I expected from him.
“Are you mad at me?” I had to ask, knowing the answer was most likely no. He almost seemed to be.
Ryan reached for my hand and rubbed his thumb over my knuckles. “No. God no, angel. I want to get you and the baby checked out, okay? I’m just worried.”
When he kissed my head and his eyes turned glassy, my breath caught. If he cried right now, I’d absolutely lose it.
Moments later, Mariana and Grant practically burst through the front door. They hurried through the house and came to a stop outside our closed bedroom door.
Knocking softly, Grant asked, “You two heathens decent?” Mariana chastised him in hushed tones.
“Come in, old man,” Ryan said, and I was thankful for the spark of humor in his voice.
“Oh, Sofia, what happened?” Mariana cried out when she saw me, her face creased with concern.
Oh dear God. I couldn’t tell her the truth, that I was riding my boyfriend too hard, and now I was cramping and worried that maybe we really did hit the baby in the head.
“My stomach hurts. Cramps,” I said, skipping over the details. Then I tried to stand up straight, but my body refused, and I glanced at Mariana in question.
Her silence told me everything. She had no idea what it meant either.
“We need to go. Thank you both so much for coming over. Matson shouldn’t wake up, but if he does, tell him we went out for food. I’ll tell him the truth later,” Ryan said, snapping out parental instructions like he’d been doing it his whole life.
He wrapped an arm around my waist and started to walk with me. Apparently, I was moving too slowly, because he suddenly leaned over and swept me into his arms.
Grant held the front door open as Ryan maneuvered us through it.
“Drive safe,” Grant yelled as he closed the door behind us.
I tightened my arms around Ryan’s neck, praying silently that the baby was okay.
Freaking Out
Ryan
I tried to stay cool on the outside, but inside, I was completely losing it.
Sofia needed me to be strong, I knew that much, but I was terrified that we’d done something to hurt the baby—or her. If anything was wrong with either of them, I’d never recover. Especially if it was something that could have been avoided, and my inserting my Tab A in Sofia’s Slot B could have definitely been avoided.
I did my best to tone down my fear and worry as we waited in a curtained-off area in the hospital’s emergency room. Sofia lay on the bed with me standing at her side, holding her hand. I refused to stop touching her, and there was no way in hell I was going to leave her side.
The doctor walked through the door with a smile on her face. That had to mean good news, I convinced myself.
“Hi, I’m Dr. Anson. I heard you had a scare,” she said as she adjusted her glasses, her tone confident but calming.
Sofia nodded, her hand involuntarily squeezing the life out of mine.
“Mind if I check you out?” the doctor asked, as if either of us would have said no. That was the whole reason we were there in the first place.
“Please.”
The doctor lifted Sofia’s gown and gently pressed on her swollen abdomen. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”
Sofia’s gaze shot to mine, and I gave her a small smile. Her cheeks immediately flushed, and I wondered if she’d be able to get the story out or if I would have to tell the doctor.
“Well, we were . . .” Sofia paused and swallowed hard, so I took over.
“We were having sex and she started having pains,” I said quickly and painlessly. Sofia gave me a grateful look and her face relaxed.
“Okay. And the pain, it’s never happened before tonight?” Dr. Anson asked.
“Never,” Sofia said, clearly more comfortable.
“And you’ve been having intercourse regularly?”
�
��Well, this one thinks he’s going to hit the baby in the head.” Sofia thumbed in my direction, giving the doc a wide smile.
Dr. Anson cupped her hand around her mouth and leaned toward Sofia, saying in a stage whisper, “They all think that.” She gave me an amused look. “It doesn’t happen, you know. You can’t hit the baby in the head. You’re not scarring the baby for life. You’re not hurting the baby. Trust me, I’ve heard it all.”
“Then what happened tonight?” I asked, genuinely concerned.
“Everything feels okay, Sofia.” She pulled her hands away from my angel’s belly and covered her back up. “Sometimes this happens. It’s perfectly normal.”
“But why did it happen this time and not before?” Sofia asked.
“It could be from extra blood flow. Your body is swollen from carrying a child, and sometimes that swelling affects things that otherwise would be normal and painless. Maybe you tried a new position?” The doctor patted Sofia’s sheet-covered knee. “But if you start to bleed, or if the cramping doesn’t subside within an hour after it starts, you need to come back in.”
Dr. Anson turned to face me with a small smile. “And yes, before you ask . . . you can continue having sex. You won’t hurt the baby.”
“I wasn’t even going to ask,” I lied with a straight face.
After we’d signed a bunch of discharge papers, I wrapped my arm around Sofia’s waist and pulled her tight against my side as we left the hospital. I was grateful that nothing was wrong with the baby or my woman.
“You feel okay?” I asked as we walked toward the car.
“I do. Except I’m hungry. Again,” she said with a groan. “I’m never going to lose this baby weight.” When I laughed, she swatted me. “I mean it. He or she has me eating carbs like my life depends on it. It’s crazy that I’m not craving meatballs, especially since I’m starting to turn into one.”
I laughed again until she leveled me with a glare that instantly killed my smile.
“You don’t look like a meatball, angel. You look like the furthest thing from a meatball.” Wait, what the hell was the opposite of a meatball?
When we walked into the house, Grant and Mariana were both asleep in the living room. Mariana was lying on the couch, her feet propped onto Grant’s lap. His head was back in what looked like a painful position, and he was snoring.