“Yep,” she says, popping thep.
“Show me your belly.”
She pans the phone across her belly, and I drink her in. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine thinking a pregnant woman was sexy, but here I am, drooling over her curves, and the swell of where our baby girl is growing inside her.
“So sexy,” I say, gripping my cock, and giving it a rough tug.
“I don’t know how to do this,” she says, laughing. “I’m killing the mood, aren’t I?”
“Never,” I assure her. “If I were there, where would you want my hands?”
“My breasts. They’re so sensitive,” she says.
“Touch them for me. Show me what you would want me to do.”
“I wanna see, too,” she pants and tweaks a pert nipple. Her back arches off the bed.
“Fuck, knowing you’re watching me makes me hard.”
“Looks like you were already,” she teases.
“Are you wet for me, Dream Girl?”
“Mm-hmm,” she moans.
“Show me.”
“That’s going to be challenging,” she says, before moving the camera to show me. She shuffles around and props the phone up on a pillow between her legs. My girl is a genius.
My cock aches, and I can already feel my release building. “Touch it. Rub your clit.” My words are clipped.
“Like this?” she asks, taking my direction and gently rubbing circles over her clit, while pinching her nipples.
“Just like that, baby.”
“Reid.” She moans my name.
“I’m right here. I can almost imagine your pussy milking my cock and not my hand.”
“Oh, damn,” she mutters, sliding a single digit inside, and pumping slowly. I can’t see her eyes, but I imagine them filled with desire, the way they do every time I’m inside her.
Fuck. I miss home. I miss my girl. Traveling this season without her has been torture. I miss her before we even leave Nashville. A few more years, as long as my body holds out, and then I’ll retire. I’ll never have to leave her or our kids again. If they can’t be there, I just won’t go, because not sleeping next to her every night is not an option. I’ve never thought about a time when I would be looking forward to hanging up my cleats, but knowing I’ll have Bellamy and our kids—because yes, I want more—the fear of losing the game I love doesn’t quite hit like it used to.
“Reid.” She calls out my name, and I can see her pussy gush all over her hand.
“Bell!” I call out with a groan as I release all over my stomach.
“Wow,” she says breathily, and brings the phone back to her face.
“There’s my girl.” I smile at her.
“I was supposed to be making you feel better,” she says.
“Together,” I tell her. “That’s how we do it, baby. There is no me without you.” It’s notI love you, but it’s damn close. I need to tell her. I just want the moment to be perfect.
“Together,” she repeats.
“How was your day?”