Page 39 of Upshot

The door to the shower opens. Rand stands in all his glory, staring at me. Then his hand flicks open my robe, pushes it off my shoulders, and pulls me into the shower with him.

Do I fight? Of course not, I just stare back at him like a deer in the headlights. He flips a lever to start one of the other showerheads. Warm water cascades over my body.

“Now,” he says, “why are you overthinking this?”

“I’m not overthinking. Argh, do we have to do this in here? I can’t think straight with you all naked. And wet. Don’t forget wet.”

“Then I’ll talk. Here’s how I see it. We had a great time running around the city, buying things for our baby, and getting to know each other a little better. We had an amazing dinner then came here where we had amazing sex because you’re always hungry and horny.”

He smiles when I roll my eyes.

“Nothing we’ve been building has changed our relationship. You’re still in charge of this life we’re building, and I’m here to support that. In whatever way you need.”

I open my mouth several times to respond, but the words won’t come out. I’ve never had someone so unequivocally put me in charge of something so important as the formation of our new family.

Don’t get me wrong, my current family is great. They’re supportive and loving, but I’m the youngest. I get bossed around. But this man is giving me the chance to decide my own fate, knowing he’ll have my back no matter what.

Slowly, he leans forward so his lips are next to my ear. “Tell me what you want.”

Tears sting the back of my eyes. I don’t even bother to hold them back. He thinks he wants to be by my side as we bring this baby into the world? Then he can see me just as I am. I’m terrified, worried, and a mess most of the time.

Without waiting for me to answer, he sinks to his knees. He carefully presses his lips to my bump. How am I supposed to resist this man? My resolve to do this on my own is slowly being chipped away.

He doesn’t give me time to think about that. The next thing I feel is his tongue sliding through my folds.

“Rand,” I moan. I found out last night that he’s very gifted at this.

His tongue strokes, and I’m lost. With a deep breath, I let everything go. I want to just be in the moment. My orgasm builds slowly. He plays my body until I’m on the edge. His long fingers slide inside. I can hear the long slurred words I’m moaning, but I can’t understand any of them. My vision blurs, my hearing leaves, and my body takes over.

I’m worried my legs will go out from under me as I come down. But Rand moves quickly to his feet to hold onto me. I press against his strong chest as I recover. His hand makes lazy circles on my back. It would be so easy to stay like this forever.

“You good?” he asks. “Finished overthinking?”

“Mhm.” Yeah, no thoughts here.

“Then go get dressed so I can take you for breakfast.” He opens the shower door.

“But, what about that?” He’s not fooling me. I can see the monument to manhood between us. It’s at full mast.

“I’ll take care of it. Go on. I figure we have about fifteen minutes to find you something to eat before you go all Hulk.” Umm, what? “Seriously, it’s fine. Get dressed.”

“What if I want to watch at the very least?” It’s a valid question. Don’t judge.

Rand grins. “Another time. When your stomach isn’t growling like it’s going to consume the baby.” He closes the shower door. Huh. Have you ever heard of a guy who’s fine with not getting his happy ending in a willing participant? Maybe he’s not as into me as I thought.

“Fuck, Brontë,” he groans from the shower.

I guess that answers that second question. Quickly, I dry off and move to the bedroom. No need to make it all awkward again. I mean, it’s kind of a stalkerish feeling to listen while he masturbates.

“What are you thinking you want to eat?” I jump at his voice. Is he a ninja of whacking off? I swear that must be a speed record. “What?”

“Nothing,” I answer, turning to pull a shirt over my head.

“I was almost there anyway. At that point, it doesn’t take much to finish spanking the–”

“Bacon,” I yell for some unknown reason.

“Okay.” He laughs. “Usually it’s the monkey, but I guess we can call it the bacon.” I glare at him, and he laughs harder. Finally, I join him in laughing.

---