With laughter between us, Keen kisses down my body to my stomach and plants another kiss on the baby before looking up at me. “So we agree. We’ll name the baby Elvis?”
We found out the sex of our baby at my four-month prenatal visit, and ever since then Keen has been relentless about naming him Elvis. I peer down at him. “No, we did not agree. Remind me when we had the conversation where I said yes.”
“This morning,” he murmurs as his tongue licks a path up the curve of my belly.
Shivering a little, I raise myself up on my elbows. Still breathing heavily, I watch him as he makes his way up my body. “Do you mean when your mouth was”—I’m having trouble finding my breath, so I point to where his mouth had just been—“on me, and you were whispering things I couldn’t even try to understand in the frenzied state you had me in?”
Those blue eyes lift and his grin is devilish. “All that matters is the bottom line, baby, and you said yes.”
“I was screaming yes because you had your tongue on my clit, not because I agreed with whatever it was you were saying.”
He braces himself over me. “Bottom line, baby, bottom line—that’s all that matters.”
Looking up, I narrow my eyes at him. “I love you, Keen Masters, but that ‘bottom line’ crap doesn’t work in the bedroom; leave it for the boardroom. And just so we’re clear, here’s my bottom line—we are not naming our child Elvis.”
He stares at me and pats my cheek. “Maybe once you see him you’ll change your mind.”
I shake my head. “Doubtful.”
His eyes gleam whenever he talks about the baby.
It’s so freaking 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. “We’ll see,” he whispers.
I don’t say anything. I just let him have the last word. For now.
Shifting a little, he hovers over me and rubs his hard cock all over me. When I arch my back and moan, he puts his long, thick cock between my breasts and I hold them together for him.
Soon he’s thrusting fast. “I don’t want to come this way,” he murmurs as he rolls us around. “You ride me.”
Grinning, I rise up on my knees—I love it when I’m the one on top.
One of his hands goes to my hip, the other to his cock, and he guides himself inside me.
Slow.
Slow.
Slow.
I lower myself down.
“Fuck, Maggie, you feel you so good.”
Rising up, I quickly lower myself down, and the way his fills me is unlike any other feeling in the world.
I close my eyes as my body soaks in the pleasure of our lovemaking. Soon, he’s moving faster than me, doing most of the work.
Leaning back and placing my palms on his thighs, I have to let him; with my belly as big as it is, I just can’t move that fast.
A loud moan escapes my throat and I lick my lips, but when he stops abruptly and jerks up onto his elbows, my eyes fly open.
“Maggie, there’s a lot of, um . . . water or something on the bed.”
I look down. Oh my God, now I can feel it.
Keen is staring down—really, truly petrified.
His horror becomes mine.
Did I just lose control of my bladder?
Oh, my God. How can I ever live this down?
My mind spins and once I realize what just happened, I almost laugh at how scared he looks.
I consider keeping quiet for a bit longer, but I can’t. Honestly, he looks truly worried.
Calmly I say, “I think my water broke.”
He bolts off the bed and I go tumbling sideways. It takes me a moment to sit back up. By the time I do, he’s already pulling a pair of boxers from his drawer. “That means the baby is coming, but you’re not due for three weeks.”
I shrug. “The doctor did say anytime now.”
“The doctor. We have to call the doctor.”
Crossing my arms, I lean back against the bed. “Keen, go take a shower.”
“Fuck, no—what if you have the baby while I’m in there?”
I laugh. “It’s not a jack-in-the-box; it’s not going to pop out.”
Two minutes later he’s back and shoving his legs in a clean pair of boxers, staring at me. “Anything happen?”
Laughing, I shake my head. “No. Not yet. Now, come sit down. Let’s wait and see if I have any contractions before we make any calls.”
Keen just continues to stare at me.
I try to be calm, summoning all my willpower to not crumble and have him rush me to the hospital. But I don’t because I know what to do—I know what the classes taught me.
Keen looks at me as he lowers himself down onto the bed, his leg tapping up and down in time with his foot on the floor. “How long does that take?”