Page 8 of Playing With Her

“Alright, well, let’s get to it, then. I’m going to step out for a few moments. We still need to do a pelvic exam, as well as the doppler to hear the baby’s heartbeat. Your next appoint, we’ll do a transvaginal ultrasound, measure a few things. I’ll be seeing you once a month as long as your morning sickness and fainting don’t get worse. Also, I’d like you to monitor your blood pressure twice a day, to err on the side of safety.” Dr. Dana stands up from her stool, pulls out a cotton gown and a sheet for Amelie before leaving so she can get changed. This time, I won’t be leaving the room. Seeing her naked is a sight I’m going to enjoy even if it is in an office building where we can’t take things any further.

“Thank you,” I tell her.

“I won’t take long. Thank you for explaining everything.” I make a mental note to ask Parker to send me the title and author of the pregnancy book he keeps in the living room, hopeful Vanessa will catch on to his tactics. I’ve yet to hit the halfway point in the book. If only I had finished it, I probably would have seen the writing on the wall and known what to look for all along.

“That’s what I’m here for. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Dr. Dana leaves the room. I sit back in my chair, knowing if I offer to help Amelie off the table, she’ll give me a scornful look, and I’d rather she uses what energy she does have left on other things, like when we’re in bed tonight.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” I lick my lips, choosing not to respond, keeping a watchful eye on her as she kicks off her shoes. Her hands go to the bottom of her shirt, and one inch at a time, bare smooth skin is shown, until she pulls it over her head, leaving her in a deep purple lace bra and shorts.

“I am, though it sucks I can’t take advantage of the situation. I will once we’re back at the Inn.” I recline in my seat and spread my legs further, giving myself room as the blood rushes to my cock. She shimmies out of her shorts, taking what I’m sure is a matching lace thong off along the way. Christ, she’s beautiful. Amelie watches as my hand goes to my lap, situating myself in a way she can see exactly what she does to me. It doesn’t matter if she’s clothed or naked like she is now, though I wouldn’t mind if she flicked the clasp on her bra.

“Oh, is that so? And am I asked or being told?” She does what I want without being told, arm moving behind her back. I lick my lips. Her tits are the perfect handful. Now that she’s completely bare, I can see the first sign of a subtle change. Her breasts are fuller, nipples a deeper color, and damn do want them in my hands. My mouth waters at the thought of wrapping my lips around the pebbled tips. “Boston.” My hand grazes her lower abdomen, moving until my thumb is pressed against her clit, hating that I can’t take this further. It wouldn’t take long at all to get her off. Feeling her tremble beneath me is a vision that stayed stored with me. Anytime I’d jack off, it was to Amelie, whether it was to a fantasy I want to play out with her or one of the multiple times we were together. Whichever it was, it guaranteed to have me coming in no time, in the shower, in bed. Fuck, as long as it’s Amelie, that’s all that matters.

I pull my hand away reluctantly. “Christ, Amelie, I didn’t think you could taste any sweeter,” I tell her after bringing my thumb to my mouth, licking off her essence. Her thighs clench. “Beautiful, that’s a promise, and you can guarantee I’ll be at each of these appointments, especially after today’s striptease. Get your gown on, Amelie. We probably only have a minute left until the doctor’s knocking on the door.” I grimace at losing the sight as well as the feel of her body.

“I hope you make good on your promise, Boston.” She turns around. I hiss when her peach-shaped ass is on full display. The palm of my hand is itching to smack her ass the way she likes when I have her bent over any piece of furniture we make it to, and when she bends down to pick up the clothes she dropped, the view is incredible. Sadly, it’s gone way too fast. She folds them quickly and puts them on the counter next to the table, then comes the gown, taking away the sight of her naked body. It might be a good thing, too, because without my suit jacket, hiding my hard cock isn’t going to be easy.

“I always deliver, Amelie.” The knock and then the door opening closes our conversation down. It’s time to hear our child’s heartbeat.

THIRTEEN

Amelie

I wakeup in my bed, eyes going straight to where I last saw Boston. His laptop was out, iPad on his lap, and phone to his ear as he talked in hushed tones to whom I have no idea. All I know is, after hearing our baby’s heartbeat, I was crying happy tears, so lost in my emotions that my arm went over my eyes, shielding Boston and the doctor while also using it to soak up all the freaking wetness coating my cheeks. It didn’t work. Boston was right there beside me, pulling my arm away from my face while the rapid beating of our child’s heart is echoing through the room. Well, I’d put it up there with the top three noises that stick with you forever. Once his eyes locked on mine, a soft smile coming out to play, my own heart sputtered for a whole different reason. I was so close to blurting out a sentence, one with three words, starts with anIand ends with au.Boston wiped the tears from my face, cupping my cheeks and using his thumbs in a different way than he had earlier. I can’t even imagine the next time my appointment rolls around, to see our baby flutter around, hear his or her heartbeat once again. I’m going to be a bundle of emotions. There are no two ways about it, and with Boston stating he’d be at every appointment, he will be subjected to my emotional upheavals.

After the appointment, where he refused to let me pay my own co-pay, we scheduled my next checkup around lunch time, Boston so in tune with my work, staying busy in the morning and afternoons. Cleaning rooms, making sure food and drinks are out in the lobby, then checking in new guests. It makes for a weird system to regulate your life around. How my mother has managed to do it all her life, I have no idea. All I know is that if she can do it, so can I, even if a baby is strapped to my chest. A loud grumble came from my stomach. Clearly, the nausea had settled down, and a hunger like no other took its place. Scott was idling at the entrance to the hospital. Boston told him to head back to the area of the Inn; we’d walk to lunch. There wasn’t a whole lot of persuading me with that idea. The only thing I asked for was jambalaya; the spicy rice, sausage, and shrimp meal was calling my name. The buttery bread the restaurant paired with it was exactly what I needed, until I saw what Boston ordered. His shrimp ‘po boy’ had me looking longingly at his meal. Being the gentlemen he is, we shared our meals. The best of both worlds in my eyes, during the perfect time of day, where you can sit outside, watch the people come and go. The wait for our food wasn’t long, and the slight breeze helped keep us cool. A few yawns later, Boston asked for the check. I tried to slide cash for my food across the table, but one look at his jawline told me he wasn’t having it, so I reluctantly tucked my money away in my wallet. Next time we go somewhere, I’ll have to figure out a way to pay him back. I finished my orange juice, well aware of the fact that spicy food mixed with an acidic drink was asking for a heartburn later. Totally worth it at the time.

Since Scott dropped us off, Boston relieved him for the day, and we walked hand in hand back to the Inn. Mom was busy in another part of the hotel. We used the back stairs to head up to my room. I assumed we would go our separate ways then, but Boston, like usual, did what I least expected. He told me to slip into something more comfortable while he was going to grab his laptop bag and work while I rested. Which is where we are now. True to his word, Boston is sitting in the chair in the corner, the side table pulled in front of him, crouched over his laptop, iPad set up off to the side, phone held up to his ear with one hand while he scratches at a notepad beneath the palm of his hand. What I’m not expecting are the black-rimmed glasses he has propped on the bridge of his nose. Just when I thought he couldn’t get any hotter, there he goes, adding another layer. My thighs clench, and a low moan leaves my lips. I watch as his eyes snap to mine. When I changed out of my clothes, it was into my pajamas from last night, a satin emerald-green spaghetti strap with lace on each side and a deep V in the front; the same pattern is carried through to the shorts.

“I’ll call you back, Theo. Something’s come up.” My body lights up. His eyes stay on mine when he tosses the phone on top of his work, hand coming up to do the same to his glasses, and a look of pure unadulterated lust is written all over his face. I watch as he stands. His shirt sleeves are rolled up, showing off his muscular forearms, and a few buttons are undone at his throat, giving me a view of his upper chest. He’s giving me my own personal porn show. “Sleep well, beautiful?” he asks as he makes his way toward me. My mouth waters, nipples pebbling further, and it’s not from the air conditioning he currently has blasting through my room. I’m sure part of the reason I slept so well was due to how cold it currently is. With it only being me in here most of the time, I keep it kicked up a few more degrees than most. Add in that little sleep happened last night, plus a play on more emotions in twenty-four hours than I’ve experienced in my whole life all at once. And then there’s Boston. To say I’m addicted to his presence would be putting it mildly. When he’s around, my guard drops. I don’t think about my father and his shenanigans, worrying about what he’s up to next. It all fades away. Boston is the only one who can keep the wolves at bay, so to speak.

“Really well. Work hard while I was being a lady of leisure?” I was half expecting to wake up nauseous. Eggs, eggs are the freaking culprit. How am I going to wake up each morning, work, and deal with getting sick from the smell of Mom cooking breakfast? Or God forbid I’m relegated to the kitchen to take on the task. The thought alone makes me want to cry.

“As much as I could since you were in this big bed alone.” His deft fingers start working the buttons of his shirt, flicking one open with every step he takes.

“You could have joined me.” Screw communicating. I’d rather do a different kind of talking, one with our bodies.

“I’m going to now, starting with an afternoon snack.” I flip back the covers. My back is to the headboard, legs spread open, giving Boston all the invitation he needs. And lucky me, this time,I’mgetting a striptease.

FOURTEEN

Boston

I watchas Amelie gives me the view of a motherfucking lifetime. The only problem is, she’s wearing entirely too many clothes even if her satin pajamas still show of a good amount of skin. I want her bare, legs spread, pussy on full display for me before I taste her sweetness. I strip off my shirt and pants while making my way toward her. Might have been the smartest thing I’ve done besides knocking Amelie up.

“Look at you, wet and ready for me. I know exactly how I’m going to make up for being gone, starting with tasting your cunt, then working my way up to your nipples. I know how much you like me sucking on them until your pussy pulses with need, on the brink of coming. Then I’m going to give you my cock, feeling your cunt ripple around my length. Fuck yeah, Amelie. I’m going to do everything to you.” I prowl. Let’s be realistic, I’m crawling up the bed, on my hands and knees for Amelie and only Amelie. She spreads her thighs further apart. My eyes rove her entire body, unable to land on one solid place—the pursing of her lips as she tries to hold her composure, her eyes that are full of want and desire, chest heaving, nipples pebbled beneath her top. I remember how she whimpers when my teeth bite down on the tips.

“Oh God.” Her voice is throaty, desperation laced through each syllable. The front of my legs meet the back of her thighs. I’m sitting on my haunches, hands sliding up her smooth legs, watching as a shiver races up her body. I’m usually one to take my time, but that’s a luxury that isn’t happening this first round. I hook my thumbs at her waist and tear down her bottoms. Fuck the top. Next round, I’ll tear it off her, or I’ll have her lift the scant piece of fabric while I play with her tits.

“One taste, then I’ll give you what you want.” I wrap my hands around the outside of her thighs, move backwards, and dip my head. Amelie’s scent goes straight to my head, intoxicating me in so many ways, it’s mouthwatering. It’s been too damn long. A long languid lick along her slit, dipping my tongue inside the place my cock is dying to be. Who am I kidding? I want more. One taste will never be enough when it comes to Amelie. The tip of my tongue plays with her clit, tracing where she’s currently got the back of my head secured, so I can’t move, or so she thinks.

“Boston, don’t you dare tease me, not today.” My shoulders hold her thighs open. Wetness is dripping from her bare pussy. A moan rumbles from my chest. It’s been too damn long since I’ve had her like this. My thumb slides inside her heat. Her begging me not to tease was easy in my book. I’m too far gone, already knowing once her first orgasm is over, I’ll be fucking my cock inside, and this time without a condom. My cock drips with precum, a multitude of factors coming in to play—the clamping of her thighs around my head, holding me hostage, the way her greedy pussy clamps around my digit, how she’s rocking her body back and forth.

“Fuck yes,” I breathe into her center when she let’s go. It’s a beautiful sight. Her eyes are closed, body arched up in a way that you know she’s offering herself to me while holding me hostage at the same time, right where she wants me. I slowly bring her down, my fingers leaving her entrance, tongue slowly laving at her clit. My cock is pissed as hell at me for not taking what he wants, instead allowing her to have an orgasm. Clearly, Amelie isn’t the only insatiable one. I lift up, moving until I’m back where this all started, cock hard, precum leaking from the tip.

“Guide me in, beautiful.” Her eyes flash open, soft and dreamy, as I tell her what to do. A hiss leaves me when I feel her soft hand envelope my length. “Christ, can’t take much more. I need to be inside you.” She places me right where I need to be. The head of my cock is happy to be inside her. My eyes close. The temptation to ram right in is there. The only thing holding me back is myself. If I were to do that, I’d more than likely come before I’m ready, and my woman deserves more than a one-minute man.

“Boston.” My name is a soft mewl. I drop to my hands, her own on my arms, muscles bulging, and I slide in further.

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