Alison made a face. “Well, when you put it that way, it makes me sound calculating.” She wriggled a little, getting more comfortable on my lap, which was doing nothing to discourage the erection I was trying to ignore. “Look, Noah. I’m just thinking that even if I don’t end up in labor, at least I’ll be a little more relaxed, right? And you will, too. Maybe we’ll both sleep better.”
“But are you sure?” I persisted. “I promised you that I’d respect your boundaries.”
“Noah.” She held my face between her two hands and squeezed. “When I said that, I was barely pregnant. I didn’t have any clue what it was going to feel like to be a hundred years pregnant with no hope of going into labor. Ever.”
“I think you’re painting this a little dark,” I began.
She ignored the interruption. “But now I know. And I want sex. I want you to touch me, make me feel good . . . make me come. I want you inside me. Now.”
While typically those words would make any red-blooded male toss off his clothes and get down to business, I hesitated. It wasn’t that I didn’t find Alison desirable now. I totally did. But I wasn’t sure of the logistics of sex with a woman who was a hundred years pregnant. Maybe if we both sat up . . . but that bump was pretty big. She’d probably have to be on top. That would work in theory.
Alison mistook my silence for reluctance. An expression of cunning determination stole over her face. Using my shoulders to pull herself up, she slowly and painstakingly moved until she knelt in front of me, her face inches from mine.
“Tropical Orgasm,” she whispered. “Leg Spreader. Wet Pussy.”
“Alison, what are you—”
“Sex on the Farm.”
Now I got it. The night we’d first had sex—the night after Emma and Deacon’s wedding—we’d challenged each other to come up with the sexiest, most outrageous names for cocktails. Alison was playing the game again.
“Ohhhhh.” I grinned. “I still don’t believe that last one is legit.”
“It totally is. The bartender confirmed it.” With a smile that was deceptively seductive for an extremely pregnant woman, she reached down to grasp the bottom of her oversized T-shirt—which was not so oversized just now—and lifted it over her head. I helped just to make sure she didn’t topple over in the process.
It was the first time I’d really seen her without a shirt in many months. My first few impressions were awe at the size of her swollen middle. I knew she was huge, but damn. The skin was stretched as tight as a drum, and her belly button looked like a cork just about to give way.
And her boobs—they were incredible. Within the utilitarian maternity bra, they were still the sexiest breasts I’d ever laid eyes on. I was dying to touch them.
Alison must have been following the direction of my thoughts because with a secretive little smile, she reached back and unhooked the bra and tossed it away. As I watched, she cupped a breast in each hand and lifted them.
“Nipple stimulation is one of the prime ways to induce contractions,” she murmured softly. “Plus, it feels really good. My boobs don’t hurt anymore, but they’re super sensitive.”
I licked my lips. “You’re sure, Alison?”
She rolled her eyes. “For fuck’s sake, Noah, you’re about to give me a complex. Just suck my nipples, dammit.”
Well, it wasn’t the most alluring mandate in the world, but it would do. I covered her hands with mine, nudging them out of the way, and took one dark rosy tip into my mouth.
“Oh, myGod,” Alison moaned. “That feels so incredible. So good. God, I could almost come just from that. Harder, Noah.”
Need pounded between my legs as my cock hardened, but I ignored it for the moment, focusing on pleasuring Alison. I moved my lips from side to side, using my fingers to pinch and play with the nipple that wasn’t in my mouth.
Within moments, she was writhing, her breath coming in quick, sharp pants. Her hands groped lower, pulling at the waistband of her leggings.
“Get them off, Noah. Please, help me with them. Get them off—and then getmeoff.”
I growled my assent, more than ready to have her naked. Stripping off her pants, however, turned out to be more of a process than I’d anticipated. We ended up with her lying on her back on the edge of the bed as I eased them and her underwear from her body.
“Noah, I know I’m not—my body isn’t exactly what it was—” she began, a note of apology in her voice.
“Don’t you even fucking say that,” I rasped. “You’re gorgeous. You’re . . . ripe and sexy and hot.”
Her cheeks flushed pink. “You are the very best man in the world, Noah Spencer. The very best.” She glanced at me through her eyelashes. “But you’d be even better if you were naked now.”
“Your wish, my command.”
It took considerably less time for me to take my clothes off, since I was both motivated and not carrying a full-term baby in my middle. When Alison spied my dick, long and hard and thick, she moaned again.
