I didn’t answer but laughed along with her even though that couldn’t have been further from the truth for me. I love Ben and we do it a lot. Obviously I’m very attracted to him and with him I’ve discovered I love sex, I really love it—a lot. And I know he definitely feels the same.
When he rests his head on his elbow and moves one hand to caress my stomach, I’m pulled back to the here and now. His lips trail down my neck, over my br**sts, and stop to kiss the shamrock in my belly button, then just below it. He kisses the baby like this all the time. It gives me butterflies.
He looks up at me. “So we agree. We’ll name the baby Huck?”
We found out the sex of our baby at my four-month prenatal visit, and ever since then Ben has been relentless about naming him Huck. I peer down at him. “No, we did not agree. Remind me when we had the conversation where I said yes.”
His fingers drift down to circle me.
I let out a long heavy breath, knowing soon my body will be hovering on the edge waiting for the crashing pleasure to peak.
“This morning,” he murmurs as his tongue licks a path down the curve of my belly to join his fingers.
I raise myself up on my elbows. Still breathing heavy, I try to see over my stomach. “Do you mean when your mouth was”—I point to where his fingers are—“there and you were whispering things I couldn’t even try to understand in the frenzied state you had me in?”
His devilish grin widens. “Yes, when I had my tongue on your clit and you were screaming my name and calling out to heaven—yeah, that’s when. You said yes.”
“I love you, Ben Covington, but we are not naming our child Huck.”
He stares at me and pats my cheek. “Maybe once you see him you’ll change your mind.”
His eyes gleam whenever he talks about the baby. It’s so cute. His thumb strokes my face and he kisses me gently before he moves his mouth to that spot behind my ear that makes my body dance on its own. When I arch my back and moan, I feel the grin that forms on his lips. I knot my fingers in his hair, feeling more than a little ready to do this again. His hand moves back down to caress my belly as we lie in bed naked getting ready to make love for the second time since I got home. I can’t even wait until tonight.
His hands move quickly as we lie on the bed both still lightly damp from our shower. One chaste kiss on the mouth and before I know it his lips are sucking on one of my ni**les and his hand moves to cup my sex and I’m aroused all over again. I close my eyes as my body soaks in the pleasure of his touch. A loud moan escapes my throat and I lick my lips, but when he stops abruptly and jerks up, my eyes fly open.
“S’belle, there’s a lot of, um . . . water on the bed.”
I sit up and look. Oh my God, I feel it.
Ben is staring down—petrified.
Once I realize I haven’t lost bladder control, I almost laugh at how scared he looks. Calmly I say, “I think my water broke.”
He bolts off the bed and pulls a pair of boxers from his drawer. “You’re not due for two weeks.”
I shrug. “The doctor did say anytime now.”
“We have to call the doctor.”
I pat the bed. “Ben, sit down. Let’s see if I have any contractions.”
I try to be calm, summoning all my willpower to not crumble and have him rush me to the hospital, because I know what to do—what the classes taught me.
He looks at me as he lowers himself down onto the bed, his leg tapping up and down with his foot on the floor. “How long does that take?”
“I have no idea.” I laugh.
“What do you mean you have no idea? We went to all those classes.”
“You were there too.”
“Yeah, but I was always a shitty student.”
I have to laugh at that. How can I not? I slide my feet to the floor and rise from the bed. As I slip into one of his button-up shirts, I feel a cramp and I slump over.
Ben rushes over to me. “Let’s go to the hospital.”
“Let me call my mother and see what she says first.” I sit back on the bed, taking a deep breath.
Ben quickly hands me my phone from the night table. “Did you pack a bag yet?”
“No. I thought I still had time.”
He strides over to the closet. “I’ll do it.”
I call my mother.
“How far apart are your contractions?”
“I’ve only had one.”
“Jack and I are on our way. You should be fine until we get there. Just relax, okay, Isabelle?”
Isabelle? She only ever calls me by my real name when she’s nervous. Great. “Yes, Mom.”
I hit END and look up to see Ben standing in utter sexiness in the doorframe. He is disheveled and so handsome—his jeans are unzipped, his shirt, the frayed one that I love, is unbuttoned, and his feet are bare.
He lifts his eyes to me. “Do you think we made a mistake?”
My mouth drops. “Why would you say that? It’s a little late now.” My voice breaks.
He furrows his brow. “I mean that we didn’t get married before we have the baby. What did you think I meant?”
Relief courses through me at the same time as another cramp bites from my lower gut. I wince and he flies to the bed.
“What can I do?”
I grab his hand. “Just stay with me. I’m scared.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Why are you second-guessing our decision?” I ask as I look down at the large radiant-shaped diamond that adorns my finger.
When he rests his head on his elbow and moves one hand to caress my stomach, I’m pulled back to the here and now. His lips trail down my neck, over my br**sts, and stop to kiss the shamrock in my belly button, then just below it. He kisses the baby like this all the time. It gives me butterflies.
He looks up at me. “So we agree. We’ll name the baby Huck?”
We found out the sex of our baby at my four-month prenatal visit, and ever since then Ben has been relentless about naming him Huck. I peer down at him. “No, we did not agree. Remind me when we had the conversation where I said yes.”
His fingers drift down to circle me.
I let out a long heavy breath, knowing soon my body will be hovering on the edge waiting for the crashing pleasure to peak.
“This morning,” he murmurs as his tongue licks a path down the curve of my belly to join his fingers.
I raise myself up on my elbows. Still breathing heavy, I try to see over my stomach. “Do you mean when your mouth was”—I point to where his fingers are—“there and you were whispering things I couldn’t even try to understand in the frenzied state you had me in?”
His devilish grin widens. “Yes, when I had my tongue on your clit and you were screaming my name and calling out to heaven—yeah, that’s when. You said yes.”
“I love you, Ben Covington, but we are not naming our child Huck.”
He stares at me and pats my cheek. “Maybe once you see him you’ll change your mind.”
His eyes gleam whenever he talks about the baby. It’s so cute. His thumb strokes my face and he kisses me gently before he moves his mouth to that spot behind my ear that makes my body dance on its own. When I arch my back and moan, I feel the grin that forms on his lips. I knot my fingers in his hair, feeling more than a little ready to do this again. His hand moves back down to caress my belly as we lie in bed naked getting ready to make love for the second time since I got home. I can’t even wait until tonight.
His hands move quickly as we lie on the bed both still lightly damp from our shower. One chaste kiss on the mouth and before I know it his lips are sucking on one of my ni**les and his hand moves to cup my sex and I’m aroused all over again. I close my eyes as my body soaks in the pleasure of his touch. A loud moan escapes my throat and I lick my lips, but when he stops abruptly and jerks up, my eyes fly open.
“S’belle, there’s a lot of, um . . . water on the bed.”
I sit up and look. Oh my God, I feel it.
Ben is staring down—petrified.
Once I realize I haven’t lost bladder control, I almost laugh at how scared he looks. Calmly I say, “I think my water broke.”
He bolts off the bed and pulls a pair of boxers from his drawer. “You’re not due for two weeks.”
I shrug. “The doctor did say anytime now.”
“We have to call the doctor.”
I pat the bed. “Ben, sit down. Let’s see if I have any contractions.”
I try to be calm, summoning all my willpower to not crumble and have him rush me to the hospital, because I know what to do—what the classes taught me.
He looks at me as he lowers himself down onto the bed, his leg tapping up and down with his foot on the floor. “How long does that take?”
“I have no idea.” I laugh.
“What do you mean you have no idea? We went to all those classes.”
“You were there too.”
“Yeah, but I was always a shitty student.”
I have to laugh at that. How can I not? I slide my feet to the floor and rise from the bed. As I slip into one of his button-up shirts, I feel a cramp and I slump over.
Ben rushes over to me. “Let’s go to the hospital.”
“Let me call my mother and see what she says first.” I sit back on the bed, taking a deep breath.
Ben quickly hands me my phone from the night table. “Did you pack a bag yet?”
“No. I thought I still had time.”
He strides over to the closet. “I’ll do it.”
I call my mother.
“How far apart are your contractions?”
“I’ve only had one.”
“Jack and I are on our way. You should be fine until we get there. Just relax, okay, Isabelle?”
Isabelle? She only ever calls me by my real name when she’s nervous. Great. “Yes, Mom.”
I hit END and look up to see Ben standing in utter sexiness in the doorframe. He is disheveled and so handsome—his jeans are unzipped, his shirt, the frayed one that I love, is unbuttoned, and his feet are bare.
He lifts his eyes to me. “Do you think we made a mistake?”
My mouth drops. “Why would you say that? It’s a little late now.” My voice breaks.
He furrows his brow. “I mean that we didn’t get married before we have the baby. What did you think I meant?”
Relief courses through me at the same time as another cramp bites from my lower gut. I wince and he flies to the bed.
“What can I do?”
I grab his hand. “Just stay with me. I’m scared.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Why are you second-guessing our decision?” I ask as I look down at the large radiant-shaped diamond that adorns my finger.
