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Starfire(56)

By:Mimi Strong


“You and I would make beautiful babies,” he said.

I fanned my face with my hand, then removed my hoodie jacket. “We’d have chubby little babies, and everyone in the media would make fun of them.”

He sat back quickly, a look of shock on his face. “I’ll sue every last one of them.” He looked left and right, flexing and releasing his fists. “Damn it, you’ve got me all worked up about these fictional babies. I’ll do anything to protect them. Anything.”

I smiled, remembering how cute he had been, ferrying Kyle around on his shoulders at my cousin Marita’s wedding, then getting all the kids dogpiling on him.

“Don’t get all crazy,” I said. “Our kids would be fine. Kids are resilient and brave. They’re fearless, you know? They have to learn caution.”

Right on cue, the owner’s three children came running to our table with our food on trays. All three wore proud grins on their faces. The five-year-old set out our napkins, smoothing them down with her chubby hands and taking her job very seriously.

“We’ll hire actors to play our children,” Dalton said, smiling now. “These waiters seem talented.”

The twins putting our food on the table got big eyes.

“Do you have an agent?” Dalton asked the twins.

When they were suitably freaked out, he said, “It’s okay, I’m just kidding. Thank you for the food.”

They both giggled and scurried away with their little sister.

“You’re good with kids,” I said.

He unwrapped the foil around his burrito and studied it seriously. “No rush,” he said. “We’ll try marriage first.”

I reached for my ring finger, as though I could feel the engagement ring even when it wasn’t on.

~

After dinner, we walked around the city until the sun disappeared and some of the more interesting city residents became aggressive in their panhandling.

We took a taxi to the hotel, then an elevator up to our room on the top floor.

Dalton opened the curtains so we could enjoy the view of the harbor through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

As I stood there admiring the twinkling lights and the shimmering water beyond the city, he stepped in close behind me. He took both of my arms and placed my palms against the glass. “Don’t you dare move,” he growled near my ear.

Standing behind me, he pressed his hot body against my back while he lifted my hair and kissed the back of my neck. My palms squeaked against the glass, and it took effort for me to push them back into place and hold still as his hands explored my front and unzipped my jacket.

My heart reacted, speeding up and rushing energy flow everywhere, especially between my legs. My pussy was thrumming with pressure as he pressed his body against my buttocks while unfastening the button of my jeans. He slid my jeans down and helped me kick them off.

He bit my earlobe, his breath hot on my neck. “I’m going to pull your hands off the window for a minute to get your shirt off, but don’t turn around.”

I murmured in agreement, and he gently removed my layers, stopping at my bra. “Such a pretty bra,” he said softly as he kissed the strap on my shoulder. “Would you prefer to wear your pretty bra while I fuck you in front of the whole city?”

“Yes,” I said, fully aware of what I was agreeing to.

“I’ve had some things delivered to the room,” he said.

“Like what?”

He ran his finger from the nape of my neck down to the top of my panties, lighting up my whole spine with his touch. “You’ll see. Don’t turn around.”

The suspense was killing me. Standing in front of an enormous window in my underwear was killing me. Was the window even tinted for privacy? The room behind me wasn’t bright, but had a warm glow from a few lamps. Oh, hell. I didn’t care. The cars on the street below looked like toys, anyway.

Dalton left me for a moment, and returned with a large shoebox. Still standing with my hands on the glass, I peeked under my armpit at him as he knelt and took a pair of insanely-stacked platform heels out of the box. In a flash, I remembered standing on the books in my bedroom. Dalton was taller than me, as most guys were, so we needed adjustments for certain positions.

He slipped one crazy platform-heeled shoe onto one foot, and then the other. They fit perfectly.

He stayed kneeling by my heels, shirtless now, but still wearing his jeans. He kissed the backs of my calves while complimenting the curvy new shape they took on thanks to the heels. My alignment was different, with my hips tilted and my back more curved, my round buttocks thrust up and beckoning.

I moaned as his lips rained down on the backs of my calves, then behind my knees, then up my thighs. I’d waited so long for him to kiss me, which only made it better. Had I ever been kissed so thoroughly? I couldn’t remember, couldn’t think… could scarcely breathe.