by Zoey Parker
“Do I like them?” I echo, grabbing a round, creamy globe. She likes when I handle her ass, spread those cheeks, and knead them like freaking dough. My fingers leave behind red marks from her grip. I wonder what her behind would look like with a different kind of mark.
Striking out, my hand collides with her ass cheek.
“Luke,” she pants my name.
Her sunshine brown curls tumble over her back, her body tightening and ass bouncing with my gentle lashings. I pace myself. Slapping one buttock and then stroking it gently, before cracking down on the other and giving it the same loving squeeze.
Back and forth, until my hands are smarting and Lily’s breathing hints at her impending release. As much as I love the idea of her coming with just the spanking play, she’s going to have to hold out.
I want her orgasm on my dick. He’s thirsty for her juices, has been all day, and we've both been patient enough I would say.
Smack, smack.
Two more before I go back to massaging her, my tongue darting out to wet my dried lips, my body humming at the sight of her glowing red rear.
Her puffy outer lips, pink and moist, are poking out of the open hole where her panties are purposely missing the thin pink cotton covering. Lily’s juices make it all too easy to test her pulsating, tight channel with two digits.
My fingers scissor her open, earning me a gasp for my attention. I pump them in her, liking how her hips come back down. God, she’s so keeping this underwear on while I bury myself in her.
I drag my sopping fingers from her core and, before she can complain, I push my palm to her mound, the heel of my hand digging against her opening, my fingers cradling her clit. I keep my hand on her like that, one-handedly unbuckling my belt and ripping open my fly.
Lily’s delirious, trying her best to get the most out of my hand by pushing down against me. I can’t blame her, and I sure as hell don’t want to tease her any longer. I want us joined, bonded.
It suddenly strikes me how much Lily’s become a part of my life. Imagining a day without her hurts and picturing her moving on with another man breaks something inside me.
“I’m going to take you bare,” I tell her, needing to claim her and stop those images in my brain.
We’ve been careful to use contraceptives since that night we fought over the morning-after pill. We haven’t talked her wanting a baby or romance or a real relationship. It’s been condoms and her pills since then.
But now I want her without any barriers, consequences be damned.
So I think I get a nod, and go about uniting us.
Thrusting forward, I impale her, balls deep, my engorged shaft swallowed up by her hungry cunt.
Lily’s loud panting turns to moaning. She wails for me to move and I do, pumping in and out of her hard, hauling her back against me, our thighs slapping against each other, making music of their own.
At one point I’ve dragged her knees to the edge of the bed for better access, my body keeping her from slipping off backward. Lifting her up, her back now pressed to my chest, I palm a breast through her lace-trimmed bra, my other hand sliding down her soft belly under the band of her panties to rouse her clit. I know the instant she splits apart and comes undone.
I bite down on her shoulder and grunt, hips rocking forward, body tightening with my release.
Lily’s loud moan claims the room, her channel pulsing around my cock. Over the roar of blood rushing in my ears, I do believe she’s calling me, letting her neighbors know I’m the guy pleasing my woman.
I keep her in my embrace long after we’re down from our highs. I move my mouth from her shoulder and marvel at the hickey I’ve left behind.
Settling her down carefully, she flops onto her belly, sliding her warm slip of a cunt off my still-hard cock. I stroke myself, loving how her juices have soaked me. And she’s filled too, her pussy pulsing out little dribbles of my white cream.
I lightly smack her ass and Lily’s eyes fly open. Dropping down beside her, I pull her onto my chest. She closes her eyes, a smile lifting her lips. “So tired…”
“Sleep,” I whisper, and she lulls off in my arms. I watch her all night. At some point my legs dangling off the edge of the bed fall asleep themselves. I move us closer to the headboard, plumping pillows and drawing the covers over us, and all while my hands are on Lily.
I won’t be able to let her go, I realize. Not ever. Losing Lily is too painful to entertain.
I guess now I have to figure out how I’m going to propose making this—us—official. Real.
Chapter 16
Lily
Kerry’s over with ice cream faster than she promised on the phone.
She leaves her goody bag on the coffee table, her purse hitting the floor by the couch. Opening her arms, she beckons me closer. The hug is exactly what I need. Kerry holds me until the dry sobs stop rolling through my body. She hauls me back enough to study my face.
Turning us to the couch, she pushes me down and falls to her knees by the table, digging through the plastic bags from the store. She sets out the ice cream, alphabetically by flavor.
I count nine flavors while she’s hauling out a smaller bag of clear plastic spoons.
“We’re trying them all,” she says, opening the first small carton and passing me a spoon. “And you’re not leaving this couch until you’ve numbed it all away...at least for now.”
I nod, holding out my hand for a spoon.
Over that first spoonful, I sob and pluck the spoon out of my mouth, swallowing the ice cold cream hard, unfeeling of the chocolate-y, nutty burst on my tongue. It’s all plain vanilla to me at this moment.
“I can’t,” I say.
Kerry, bless her heart, purses her lips and bobs her head, sympathy brightening her eyes. She slides up on the couch beside me, her arm coming around my shoulders. She holds me to her side, my head resting in the crook of her neck.
“They’re all positive,” I choke out. “Every single one of the five I bought. I know that sometimes they can be false, but five tests don’t lie!”
Kerry’s silence urges me on.
“What am I supposed to do? How do I tell him? Luke will flip.”
“He won’t,” Kerry begins.
“You don’t know that,” I retort, snorting. Then I apologize, sagging with guilt. She’s only here to support me, after all. This isn’t her mess to clean up.
“Can I make an observation?”
My words have dried up for now, so I gesture for her to go on.
“From how I’ve seen Luke act around you, he doesn’t seem the type to pump and dump and run.” She warningly raises the hand not holding my shoulder. “Let me finish. Being outside of this relationship, a mostly objective party, and speaking honestly as your friend, I do really believe Luke cares for you.”
“But does he love me? And is he ready for a baby?” I give her a long look.
Kerry shakes her head. “I can’t tell you that for sure. Though there is a way to find out…”
I push out of the sofa, her arm falling away. She doesn’t chase me as I pace back and forth from the TV to the couch. I’m running from what she’s implying. Asking Luke should be out of the question, but we’re talking a pregnancy here. His baby. Luke Hanley is the father of my child.
Could I look him in the eyes and confidently tell him he’s going to be a daddy?
My hands grip my belly; I massage soft, pliant flesh. Soon I’d be showing, and putting it off would be impossible in a few months. And then there’d come a time where the baby would be kicking…
I notice Kerry’s gaze on my wandering hands. I drop them, letting my heavy hands squeeze into fist at my sides.
“I can’t tell him. He doesn’t love me.” I come to the conclusion, and saying it aloud makes it all the more real. “Kerry, he doesn’t love me...and he won’t love this child. You don’t understand. I can’t open this baby to that.”
“So what? You’ll hide it?”
“If I have to!�
�� I stare at her wildly, my eyes wide, bulging, fists rising up in front of me. “I won’t let him hurt this baby. And I’m not going to get rid it.”
Kerry stands slowly, her hands out in front of her in a placating manner. I might have found it funny she’s taking such a stance, but I do feel a bit like a skittish foal. A deer-in-the-headlights staring at my unknown future as it crashes into me.
“All I want is for you to see where this is headed. You can’t hide it, hon. This baby is as much a part of Luke as it is a part of you.” Kerry’s words unleash the well of tears I thought I had exhausted after all five tests popped up with two bright pink lines.
Her words, wise and true, come down a tunnel at me. Like an out-of-control car I’m seeing my new future as a sudden young, unwed mother with no clue how to raise a child.
“Luke is here now, and that says enough. He chose you; he chooses you every time he walks into your apartment,” Kerry says. “Give him a chance to be a father first, before you act as his judge, jury, and executioner.”
“Executioner?” I snuffle.
Kerry grins. “Okay, I took it too far. But you get what I’m saying.” She grabs an ice cream container and wiggles it. “Now come here and take your medicine.”
Coaxed back to the couch, the fight ebbing from my fatigued body, I consider what she’s said. I should give Luke a chance, I know that. The sane part of me is nodding her head enthusiastically, but she’s also a hopeful romantic. That part of me conjures a fantasy where Luke and I have our family surrounding us for a dream wedding.
Fantasy Luke grips for my belly, now swollen with his child. He beams down at me and traps my mouth in a passionate, toe-curling kiss.
The fantasy pops.
I’m back on the couch, my hand cold from clutching the ice cream container, my tongue thick in my mouth. I glance at Kerry. She’s chattering away, trying her best to keep the mood light.
She’s become such a champion for Luke. She doesn’t know Luke and I have a deal. An alibi is the glue holding us together, maybe a bit of lust, but not love. At least not on his part. If Kerry knew, would she still be encouraging me to speak to Luke?
I only remember it’s past noon on a weekday when Kerry stands to announce her departure.
She stopped over during her lunch break after I sent several texts to her at dawn. She gestures to the ice cream. “Eat as much as you can. Don’t worry about calories or cavities for today.” She brushes a kiss on my forehead, squeezing my shoulder. “I’ll be back later to check on you.”
I called in sick to work. It’s a first for me.
I’m not even experiencing morning sickness. Not yet…something else I have to look forward to now my life’s taken a different turn.
I rub my belly, wondering how something so tiny—about poppy seed size according to the pregnancy websites I scoured through in bed after sending the texts to Kerry—could take over my life.
Instead of doing as Kerry remedies, I put the lids on all the ice cream and juggle them in two trips to the fridge. Stocking them in the freezer, I head to my bedroom and return to bed, my hand finding my phone on the nightstand.
I find myself tapping into my contacts tab. Luke’s number is under my parents’ number, aptly named ‘Home.’ But I haven’t recognized it as home since they all but kicked me out.
One mistake and I was blacklisted in their eyes. I was no longer their coddled little girl but a flawed young woman who should be able to pull up her big-girl pants and handle herself.
I blink away the tears, forcing my mind from them to Luke. It’s not a good place to be either, not when I think how such a wonderful blessing, and I can’t think of a baby as anything else, could have arrived at such a wrong time. If only the stork stayed away for long enough. I could have sorted my feelings for Luke, figured out what he felt for me too.
“Now it’s too late,” I sniffle, wiping at the tears tickling my cheeks, warm and salty. I toss the phone to the space behind me, giving my back to it. I quietly cry myself to sleep.
# # #
A knock in the early evening rouses me from a dreamless slumber.
I feel zombified. Staggering into the bathroom first, I sluice water on my crusty face. The knock is heavier now, loud and demanding. I blink, wondering why Kerry’s pounding so hard.
Then my sleepy brain pushes out a realization. It’s not Kerry at the door at all.
It’s a slow walk, and I startle when the door pounds again with the heavy rapping. Someone’s eager to be answered and it gets me wondering how long they’ve been out there, pounding away and trying to get my attention.
I’m standing in front of the door, ready to tiptoe to the peephole when Luke’s voice stills me.
“Lily, open up.”
I stare wide-eyed, hand reaching out to caress the cool door like it could substitute for Luke’s hard, muscle-rippling chest.
“I know you’re in there. I fucking swear, if I have to hunt down the landlord or the whole fire department to open this door, I’ll do it.”
Not wanting that drama, I unlock the door, stepping back for Luke to let himself in. I hug my arms around my middle.
And then Luke’s gathering me into his arms.
He’s locked us in the bubble of my apartment, and I can’t stop the waterworks. I’m a sobbing, hiccupping mess when he turns me to his chest and holds me to his heart. One of his hands massages my scalp, the other smoothing up and down over my back.
I’m crying so much I feel empty when the tears stop and the shuddering calms. Little ripples rock through me as he pulls me back, his hands cupping my cheeks. Luke’s green eyes are bright, astute, but even he can’t guess what’s eating away at me.
“Why are you here?” I ask, voice hoarse and sorrow-weighted.
“Really, Lily?” Luke lifts his brows. “You weren’t at work. I noticed. I worried. I almost tore apart the office trying to figure out just how sick you are. So tell me, what hurts? What can I do to make the pain go away?”
Before I can control the word vomit, I blurt, “My heart. And you can’t make that pain go away.”
Luke rears back from me, his hands falling away slowly, and his gaze boring down from his full height. I try to turn from him, but he grabs my wrist.
“Let go,” I blubber, tugging feebly. “Let go of me. Please.”
“Not until you explain yourself.” He’s back to bossy Luke, though I think I hear a roughened catch to his voice.
“I don’t have to explain anything to you.” I turn on him sharply, punching my free hand into his chest. He captures my other hand and holds my fist fast to his chest. I’m trapped. “You never share anything with me!”
“What haven’t I shared with you?” he snaps. “What would you like to know, Lily?”
I stop struggling, glaring up at him. The anger feels better than the gut-emptying, soul-sucking depression. “Did you do it? Did you really kill that man? And why? How could you?”
Luke’s bitter laugh is frightening. He pushes his face to mine, his hot, minty breath teasing me. “So you want to know why I killed Derrick Smyth? Why I had him killed? I’ll tell you, Lily. I’ll share the bastard’s story and leave it up to you to decide, but I won’t apologize for it and I won’t look back.
“Derrick Smyth was a rat, a traitor. He played to my sympathies because, as he saw it, I was young, innocent, and too damn weak to dole out the punishment he deserved.
“Mr. Smyth made money however he could. If he could sell stolen kidneys, rip them out of unsuspecting victims, he would and he did. He pushed young girls into prostitution as a pimp, and he sold child pornography.
“And years ago, way before you sauntered into my father’s office, he came to my doorstep and he asked for a loan, and I was a stupid, young fool who didn’t do his research. I unknowingly funded all of those disgusting projects, Lily, for years. And he was always one step ahead of me when I tried to hand his ass over to authorities.
“So when I got the chance—when I fina
lly had Derrick in my grasp, yeah. Yeah, I pulled the trigger. And I’d pull it again because one thing I’m not anymore is a man who regrets his decisions.”
I let his story, his history sink in. Meanwhile my eyes dart over his features, taking in the slashing vee of his brows, the flaring nostrils, bared teeth, and angry flush staining his cheeks, creeping up from his chest where the top buttons of his dress shirt parted open.
I’ve really gotten to him, with the help of Derrick Smyth’s vile ghost.
It’s hardly the right time to make the announcement, but it’s tumbling out of my gaping mouth. “I’m pregnant.”