by Trent Evans
“You’re naming him already?” She lifted a finger from her glass, waving it at him. “We don’t even know if it’s a boy or girl yet.”
“Oh it’s a boy,” Keihl said, giving her his best arrogant smirk. She wanted to smack it off his face — right after she kissed him.
“Well, boy or girl,” she said. “Auntie Cameron can get in some much deserved baby-sitting time. Little sis’s penance for trying to dissuade my husband from doing the baby’s room.”
The mouthwatering aroma of the fresh bread hit her, and immediately her stomach was roiling.
“God, that smells so good — and it makes me want to throw up.” She leaned over the table, rubbing her belly. “My OB warned me, but I thought she was full of shit.”
“OBs tend to know what they’re talking about regarding babies.”
She stuck her tongue out at him. “Mom said she never once got morning sickness with any of us. You’d think with three girls, at least one of us would’ve gotten to her. Bitch. I don’t have morning sickness, I’ve got all damn day sickness.”
Keihl smiled sympathetically, plucking a piece of bread from the plate, buttering it and offering it to her. “Maybe just try a little?”
“Not unless you want our waiter to mop up vomit,” she said under her breath. “I can’t wait until the second trimester.”
“I can’t either,” he said, waggling his eyebrows.
“Been reading a bit, have we? We aren’t all sex maniacs in the second trimester, you know. Despite what those books say.”
His eyebrow arched. “Do you really expect me to believe you’ll be one of the exceptions?”
Heat blossomed in her cheeks. “Well… okay, probably not. But don’t think you’re entitled.”
“Oh, but I am entitled.” Keihl reached across the table, giving her hand a proprietary squeeze. “And don’t you forget it, woman.”
A shiver ran down her core once more. How the hell was he so good at that?
Kirsten rolled her eyes, but gave him a little mischievous smile. Hopefully he’d remember that and add it to her tally later on.
“I missed you, Kirsten. I’ve been thinking … maybe it’s time to quit with the air travel. You don’t really have to go to those conferences in person.”
“Why? The OB said it wasn’t an issue until late third trimester, if ever.”
“I’m talking about more than the pregnancy.” He set the bread down, spreading a palm on the burgundy table cloth. “I’m — I don’t want you out of my sight, not to put too fine a point on it.”
“Ol’ caveman routine then?” She gave him a wink. “Truth is, I’m thinking you’re probably right.” She met his gaze, her voice softening. “I don’t want to be out of your sight either.”
“Glad we’re on the same page. I’d preferably have you in my sight, and naked. But I’ll settle for in my sight, if I have to.”
Her belly flipped over at the flash in his eyes.
“Getting in your horndog time before I turn into a beached whale?”
She dreaded that, wondered how she’d cope with feeling so … undesirable. It had seemed so abstract, even silly, to her when she’d heard other women talk about it. But now, obsessively checking her profile every morning with an odd mixture of eagerness and trepidation, she understood. She hoped she’d still be enough for her husband, but was there really any way to know until she got further along? She had terrible, painful visions of her husband averting his eyes as her bloated, pregnant form walked by. The idea held a deep-seated dread for her. Of course, a woman shouldn’t derive her self-worth from a man, even her own husband. But dammit, it mattered that he found her desirable, it mattered that he couldn’t get enough of her. And with The Game, it had been as if kerosene had been poured on the fire of their desires. Now, with pregnancy’s changes looming in the near future, she feared it would make their exploration of those desires impossible, and there’d be an end to the deepening sexual bonding they’d enjoyed of late. She wanted more of that. So much more.
“There are a few things you need to know, Kirsten.”
She sighed, knowing it was time. “I’ve got something to tell you too. Though I’m not sure how.”
He tilted his head, giving her a smile again. “I’ll go first.” The warmth of his smile heated further. “The first of those things is that I can’t wait to see what you look like.”
“What… what do you mean? I don’t — I’ve heard the horror stories. I’m going to be huge, Keihl. Let’s be honest.”
“I am being honest.” He turned his head, watching a passing couple as they made their way to their table. He continued, his voice lower. “You think I’ll be disgusted by you? Not attracted to you anymore?”
“Of course. It’s natural to wonder.”
Or to know with dead certainty.
“Well, you’ll see. I’ve got … plans.” He met her gaze, his expression sobering, but lust still bright in his eyes. “You never know. You might get to the point where you’ll wish I didn’t like it so much.”
“I don’t think that’s possible. After something happening to the baby, it’s basically every woman’s fear, whether they say so or not.”
“You might be careful what you wish for, girlie.”
She sucked in a breath, feeling a delicious trembling deep in her belly again at his words. He reached out and grasped her hand, his fingers gentle, thumb stroking over hers.
“What are these plans you’ve got?” She straightened in her chair, squeezing her thighs together, the heat between them growing.
“You’ll see. We’ll begin soon enough.”
She took a piece of the bread, needing to get something in her belly, nausea or not.
“What else were you wanting to tell me?” The nausea came in a long wave, and she groaned, chewing the bread anyway. “Distract me.”
He looked down a moment, taking a deep breath. “You remember the … things, Tom was showing me? How we’d talked about what you and I have been doing?”
“You mean The Game?”
“Yeah.”
A tiny shudder ran through her. Did he already know?
“I can’t do it anymore. See Tom, I mean.”
What?
“Okay. I’m confused though. What happened?”
“I just… I can’t. I got uncomfortable with it.”
Kirsten sat up in her chair, stiffening. “What does that mean?”
“If I stayed longer, I’d want you to be there with me. With us. If you weren’t, it would be… wrong.”
“Keihl, what are you talking about?”
He cursed under his breath. “I — saw Sharon. Naked. I had no idea I would, they sort of sprung it on me. But I did, and it’d be wrong not to tell you. I left though.” He locked gazes with her. “I wanted you to know. So that things didn’t get weird. We never talked about that, about what the… boundaries were.”
“I didn’t think we needed to.”
“I didn’t either,” he said, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “But that’s over with. If I ever talk with him — them — about things again, I want you there with me.”
Thank God. Oh, Thank God.
She squeezed his hand in hers, giving him a relieved smile. “I know, Keihl.”
His eyes narrowed. “You know? You know what?”
“About what happened.”
“How the hell… how?”
Kirsten took a deep breath, hoping it would help her nerves and her rebelling stomach.
“Sharon and I have been talking for… a while.”
She watched his face closely. He scowled for just a moment, dark clouds passing across his eyes. Then he sat back, his shoulders relaxing.
“Now it makes sense then.” He shook his head, drumming his fingers on the tablecloth. “It didn’t make sense — them being so … open. Like they were pushing me. But now I see it.”
“I told her no touching.”
Kirsten pictured the beautiful Sharon naked, her h
usband’s eyes on the woman’s curves. The first time Kirsten had envisioned it, the thought made her want to cut a bitch. Now? After what Sharon had told her? After Kirsten’s own revelations about her own dark desires? It didn’t bother her nearly as much as she’d have believed.
That’s because you’re moving steadily into perverted slut territory now. Happy?
But really she was happy with it — at least with having the strength to face the true scope and meaning of her desires. But that realization was a double-edged sword for her. How does a girl tell her husband that she’s this depraved whore, who wants him to use her however he sees fit, while at the same time she’s already feeling the pull of her protective instincts for the little person growing in her belly? The baby was yet tiny, and she already felt that urge to go all mama bear … even with her own husband. It made sense, and it made zero sense all at once.
Hormonal wacko.
“That’s funny,” Keihl said with a little shake of his head. “I told them the same thing. ‘Look, but not touch’… but I couldn’t even do the look part.”
Kirsten gulped, hoping the question didn’t give him the wrong impression. “Why?”
“Why? You’re kidding, right?”
“Um, no. I really want to know.”
Part of her reveled in the fact that he’d been so loyal, so true. She knew he was, of course, but to have him essentially validate all the confidence and trust she’d put in him, made her feel so good, she wanted to jump up and yell out: “This is MY man!”
“Why,” Keihl murmured, looking away. “Because when I saw them together, part of me wanted that. All of that. But I wanted it with you. And it freaked me the fuck out, actually. I didn’t realize it. Maybe it was always there, and I’d never put a finger on it. But seeing that, seeing them together — it just sort of clicked. And I know that — considering your condition — I just can’t have it. More than that though — it was just too much for you. More than you’d want.”
“How do you know that, though?”
He has no idea. None.
“Tom wants to show me more.” Keihl rubbed the bridge of his nose. “He says we haven’t even scratched the surface of things.”
“And?” Kirsten tried to swallow down the lump in her throat. Whether said lump was anticipation or dread, she couldn’t tell.
Keihl shrugged. “I shouldn’t say that it’s more than you’d want. I don’t really know, exactly. But I know what I want — and it wasn’t my wife as a slavegirl. At least not now.”
At least not now?
She had to concentrate and force her lips to form the words. “So tell me what you do want then.”
“You sure you want to hear it?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” She tried to give him a smile, but she could feel her lips trembling. She hoped he couldn’t see it.
“I want…” He shook his head sharply, as if trying to clear fog from his mind. “Maybe it should be your turn now. What exactly did you two talk about anyway?”
Shit. So close…
“The Game,” she looked at her fingers trembling on the tablecloth. “What they wanted to show you, teach you.”
He was quiet for longer than she liked, his fierce gaze never leaving her.
“So was this some sort of… test?” His jaw tightened. “Wanted to be sure I was on the straight and narrow?”
“God, no.”
Kirsten took another drink of the cider, feeling the constriction in her throat. This was dangerous ground here, and she had to pick her next words carefully. Everything might hinge on them.
“Keihl, I wanted to talk to someone else. A woman. Someone who might understand what I was feeling. What I might… do about it.”
“Are we still talking about The Game? Or is it the baby?” Keihl’s brow furrowed. “What can’t you talk about with me?”
“I was feeling lost, I guess. I needed to get my bearings.” The heat of her blush flared again, and she looked down, grinding out the words she knew she needed to say. “And I wanted to ask her how I could ask you. Ask you for what I wanted.”
“I’m your husband, Kirsten.” He gave her a smile, but a hint of steel had crept into his deep voice. “You can tell me anything. I expect you to.”
“I know,” she swallowed, looking away. This wasn’t going as she’d hoped. “Look, I don’t even know how to say this. It’s confusing — I probably shouldn’t even say this.”
“So just say it,” he murmured, his gaze sharpening. “What do you want? What was it you couldn’t say?”
“That I want more.” She met his gaze, and took a shaky breath. “A lot more.”
Keihl’s lips quirked and he looked at her in silence. Then he reached for her hand again, and she laid it in his, knowing he could feel the flutter of her nervous fingers.
“We can’t do The Game anymore—”
“No, wait—”
“Let me finish,” he said, holding up a hand. He fixed her with a cool gaze, his eyes holding her in place. “We can’t continue with The Game without … some changes.”
“What kind of changes?”
A vision of her naked form chained to his bed 24/7 sprung to mind, her lips curving with the absurdity of the prospect, but her clit throbbing with the allure of it.
“Well, for one thing—” he paused while a waiter passed by their table “— I can’t very well keep waling away on your ass when you’re pregnant with the kid, at least not toward the end.”
She smiled. “Well no, but you might be surprised. We pregnant chicks are a lot tougher than we look.”
“That’s part of the problem.”
“It is?”
I knew it. It IS the pregnancy. He thinks he’ll see me as a mother, and not a woman. Fuck.
“Yeah, it is.” He rubbed a hand across his mouth, and cursed under his breath. “When I think of you … pregnant. With my child. It … calls to something in me. This possessiveness, I guess.”
Yes. God, yes.
Oh how she wanted him to feel that, to be that. She was his woman, and she was carrying his child. It filled her with love, and lust, and excitement, and joy that he saw her in that way. She liked the feeling of being his, even of being possessed by him. She’d never have admitted it before, but after they’d gotten the news, it had changed something in her. Something had reoriented itself within her, a piece had fallen into place. And though it was confusing, and scary, she wanted, needed, to see where it went.
“Keihl, I like that. That you see me that way.” She lowered her voice to almost a whisper. “It’s a huge turn-on, actually.”
His eyes went wide, his mouth opening. But he didn’t say anything. Instead, he simply regarded her in silence, as if watching, gauging, what the unpredictable female creature sitting across from him might do next.
“That’s it though, Kirsten. When I think of you swollen with the baby … it makes me want more of The Game. It makes me want so much more. And it’s the exact thing I can’t do, the exact thing that’s not right for you now.”
Oh but you’re wrong about that, you beautiful man.
“Then we’ll figure it out.” She squeezed his hand, giving him what she hoped was her winningest smile. “I trust you. Sir.”
“You haven’t answered my question though, wifey.”
“Ever the interrogator, counselor.”
“Damn right.” He gave her a devastating arch of his dark brow that made her want to lick every inch of him.
Now’s the time, Kirsten. Just say it. No guts, no glory.
“She and I talked about how her marriage started out. Some of the things they did, what worked, what didn’t. She told me about this … website too. How would you feel about a Head of Household arrangement?”
“A what?”
Steady, girl. Steady.
“Have you ever heard of something called a Taken In Hand relationship?”
It was Keihl’s turn to blush, and she brought a hand to her mouth t
o cover her smile.
“Yeah, I have actually. It’s… something I’ve read about. What made you ask that though?”
“I want to try it.”
“Us? Now?”
“As soon as you’re ready, yes.”
Her heart was instantly pounding, a rushing sound in her ears increasing by the second.
He winced, then looked away, stroking a hand across his chin. Then he locked his gaze upon her.
“Okay.”
Yesyesyesyes.
“Just ‘okay’? No questions?”
Keihl flashed her a devilish grin. “It’s just like you said. We’ll figure it out.”
“There’s… there’s a site she and I talked about that sort of explains it. What it can be, how it might work. I mean — if you’re curious how others do it.” She pulled her cell from her purse, fingers whirring over the screen. “There, I just sent you the link. I’d feel too stupid saying it out loud.”
He pulled out his phone, looking at it for a moment. Then he laughed softly, putting the phone back in his pocket, a wry smile curving his lips.
“That’s adorable,” he said. “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed.”
“Must be why you like making me feel it so often then.”
Leaning across the table, he traced the line of her lips with his finger. “You have no idea, bad girl.”
She gasped, her nipples instantly tightening at the words.
Bad girl.
But he didn’t give her time to process any of it, wonder what it all might mean. He took up the menu, drumming his fingers along the base of her palm.
“As you say — we’ll figure it out.” He winked and looked at her over the menu. “First we figure out how to get some food in you without making you hurl. Then we get to figure out what punishment is most appropriate for my girl when we get home.”
He was right, Kirsten. Be careful what you ask for indeed.
Chapter Fifteen
The door hadn’t even closed before he took her hand, turning her back toward him. Her eyes were wide, bright, peering up at him.