Page 113 of Secrets in Love
“I’m surprised I could fit in your bathtub. It’s smaller than ours.”
“It was more surprising that Nate fit in there with you.”
“Hey, if a guy can’t share a tight bathtub with his best bro to celebrate their joint almost-thirtieth birthday, when can he?” Finn’s and Nate’s birthdays were only days apart, so he dove into his leftover cake sitting on the counter and looked around the room. “Where is my birthday bath time pal, anyway? Bet the party-pooper is still in bed.”
“I’d hate to burst your bubble, father, and idiot of the year, but you’re only twenty-seven. As for Nate, he’s on the beach, watching over his two andyourthree children.”
“Shit. The kids are here?” Finn wandered to the chalkboard Nate had hung in our kitchen and added to the idiot tally he and Nate thought was a hilarious addition to the new house we built. It was our dream home, still on Myers land but on the crest of a hill and closer to the water. It was also farther away from his parents and, despite what Finn said, had a ginormous bathtub—two, actually.
“Yes, we are, Dad. Nice to know you care.” Iris wandered in, blowing her gorgeous mop of strawberry curls from her eyes, and carrying baby Shelby. “Mum dropped us off two hours ago. You were asleep on the couch when we left. She tried to wake you up, but you just rolled over and flashed us all your butt. Almost ten-year-old kids shouldn’t have to see their dad’s bare butt.”
“Sorry, kiddo.” Finn winced as he put his beer down, took Shelby into his arms, and kissed Iris’s head. “Uhh, where’s your mum now?”
“Don’t worry, Dad. She’s gone into town to get some lunch. She’ll be back soon, though, so you better finish your beer.”
Much to Finn’s displeasure, the room exploded in sound as the remaining mini members of the Austen/Myers clan arrived. Like a honey to a bee, Nate headed straight to me, wrapping his arms around my waist, and planting a kiss on my lips. “You taste all salty,” I whispered, kissing him right back.
“Let’s go wait on the porch, kids,” Finn sighed. “I’m already having enough trouble keeping my guts where they belong without seeing this.”
With the house clear of minors, Nate hoisted me onto the kitchen island and stepped between my spread legs. “I feel like shit, Gidge. Since we’re alone, why don’t you sneak into the shower with me and make me feel better.”
“Alone? Nate, there are six legitimate children and one giant man-child in the house. What part of alone don’t you understand?”
Nate’s eyes rolled around his head as he did the math. “Six kids? Iris, Ben, Shelby, Em, and Britty. Who’s the sixth?”
I bit my lip and patted my belly. “This one.”
The fifteen or so beers Nate had consumed over the past twenty-four hours had slowed his thinking considerably, and it was fun to watch the last puzzle piece slip into place. “Evie?” he said disbelievingly. “Are you…? Are we…?”
“Yep. I’m pregnant, Nate.”
“EVIE, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, AND MY SUPERMAN SPERM HAS KNOCKED YOU UP AGAIN! YESSSSSSSS!”
Alone or not, being kissed to within an inch of sanity had my legs wrapping around Nate’s waist of their own accord. My hips seemed to have a mind of their own too, and they began to grind against his rapidly increasing hardness as he carried me upstairs. “We need to celebrate, Gidge. And you know fucking is my favorite way to celebrate.”
“I know. I’m pretty sure what we’re celebrating was conceived over Christmas.”
Kicking the bedroom door open, I was gently laid, not thrown as per usual, on the bed. I watched on as Nate ran back to the door, locked it, then sprinted to the windows and drew all the blinds. He was stark naked and practically drooling by the time he made it back to bed. Unsurprisingly, so was I. “Is it weird that I am so turned on by you being pregnant? I know it’s super Neanderthal-caveman-like, but fuck. Knowing I have the power to put a life inside you is the ultimate aphrodisiac.”
“Snort. You sure do think a lot of yourself, don’t you?”
“Yep, you do too. That’s why I knocked you up like a fucking champ.” We kissed in between trading insults. A good verbal tussle was always a fun build-up to the between-the-sheets kind. The jibes ended, though, when Nate stopped fucking around with what he called, “the world’s most beautiful tits,” and started fucking the quote,
“tightest, wettest, knocked-up pussy ever.”
My legs were whipped over Nate’s shoulders, and he rose to his knees and started pounding away. At this angle, his cock and hair teased my clit with every thrust. “God, Nate. I will never tire of you and your filthy mouth. Or how you rail me with absolutely no regard to my well-being.”
“Gidge, we have two-year-old twins. We have no time for health and safety precautions. Only bonking.”
Nate leaned down and took a hard and tender nipple into his mouth, I winced and writhed beneath him, my body becoming even wetter. “I love pregnant boobs. God, they’re so big. How did I not notice? I want to bury myself between them for the next nine months. Ohh, can I fuck them? Please let me fuck them.”
“Nine? Nate, I’m almost two months in. You have seven months tops with these puppies before they belong to the baby. Enjoy them while you can. And yes, you can fuck them, but later.” Nate’s lips moved to my neck and bit down, stinging and reddening my flesh. He continued to push inside me, each time deeper, harder. Even after all this time together, his prowess never failed to amaze me. I was so close already.
A door slammed downstairs, and we both froze.
“It’s all good. It’s all good. There are no footsteps,” I whispered. I pulled my legs from Nate’s shoulders and flipped, resting on my hands and knees, and wagging my ass in his face. Do me from the back.”
“Damn, I love you, Mrs. Myers.” My hair was wrapped around his wrist, my hips pulled higher up into the air, and my ass slapped. “Just let me do this real quick.” I couldn’t see what he was doing, but I certainly felt his tongue lick me back to front, tickle and pull and suck on my clit.
