by Claire Adams
"Oh, don't worry about that. I plan on taking lots of time off very shortly. We'll spend days hanging out in the park, taking long walks, and just enjoying life."
"So, why were you working so much? I know that the year we were engaged, your modeling career far surpassed just being the ad-campaign girl for Speed Motorcycles. Within months of our engagement, you were being asked to model for the covers of major magazines and posed for some of the top companies in the country.
“Major corporations would fly you around the world, and offered you huge salaries, to pose with their products or to put your face on their magazine ads. Your rise to fame was unprecedented."
"That still drives you crazy," she teased me, and I leaned over from to chair to swat her ass playfully in mock aggravation. She raised up her ripe buttocks, allowing me to make contact with her round cheek, and when it vibrated under the impact of my palm, we both felt a thrill.
"No, it doesn't. I'm secure enough in my manhood to let my wife thrive. Besides, I'm proud of you."
"So why are you going on about it?" she taunted, making me grin. She'd gotten up from her beach recliner and straddled me on mine so she could tickle my chest with her manicured fingernails.
I put my hands on her waist and slid them up her pale body to cup her breasts. Fondling them gently, I said to her, "Because, you've been able to set your own demands and work schedule for almost two years straight now. You've always been really good about keeping your work schedule within reason so we'd have enough time to spend together. Having you out on photoshoots all day, every day for nearly a month was tougher on me than I'd like to admit."
"Sorry, but I needed to get in as much work as I could before my body starts to change and I can't model anymore. This last month may mark the end of my career for quite a long time."
"What are you talking about? Is this because you’re getting older? Don't worry, sweetheart. The shelf life of a model is short, but it's not that short. You still have plenty of years left to enjoy your career."
"Oh, I know that. But if I lose my skinny body, then I won't be as marketable. Besides, I don't think I'll want to work anymore, at least not for a few years. I think I'll want to stay at home, like my mother did."
"Don't tell me you’re burnt out on your career already? You've only been doing it a few years and you act like you really love it. Some days when you come home from work, you're smiling so big, I wonder if I shouldn't be jealous that you love your career more than you love me."
It was a joke and she giggled. Tickling my chest again, she said with a smile, "Don't worry, I don't love anything more than you. It's just that I'm pregnant."
"What?" I sat up straight so suddenly, I nearly knocked her off my lap. "I don't think I heard you right? Say that again."
"I'm pregnant." She was absolutely beaming as she smiled at me. I'd never seen her looking more radiantly beautiful.
"Are you sure? I thought you were on the pill." I gaped like a moron.
"I was, but it's not a hundred percent effective. I went to see my doctor when I had the flu last month, and she told me that it was morning sickness. I was six-weeks pregnant."
"Why didn't you tell me?" I was still in shock and didn't know how to feel.
"Because I knew you would worry and make me quit my job."
"Damn right, I would. You can't be on your feet all day in harsh weather conditions with nothing on but a bikini, keeping your weight down by starving yourself. My baby needs good nutrition, and his mother needs to pamper herself and relax." I was instantly protective and felt a glow in my heart I knew was pride and pure love.
"So, I told my agent, and he got my clients to compact their photo shoots into a one-month period of time. I was able to complete all the work I had committed to for the rest of the season in just four, short weeks, and now I'm officially on hiatus. I won't be accepting any new modeling jobs until after the baby is born, and maybe not at all."
"You're really doing this?" I could hardly believe how rapidly our lives had changed, and she nodded her head. I could see from the smile in her eyes and the glow in her cheeks that she was really happy, and I was, too.
Just over two, short years ago, I'd thought I was living the dream life with my secretary blowing me under my mahogany desk in my billion-dollar company offices, but I'd never been more wrong.
True happiness wasn't money, empty affairs, or even success. True happiness was this right here: having found someone you love who loves you, too, and turning that passion into a baby to raise and love together.
As I kissed Kayla with the tropical beach behind us and felt the love we had for each other envelop us, I knew that at long last, I had healed the wounds of my youth and was truly living the dream every man wanted, and I was going to enjoy every moment of it.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 Claire Adams