“Dominic was supposed to do an ad with the local shelter, but he’s refusing to step into the shelter because, and I quote, ‘I cannot end up with a dog in my house. This is a recipe for me to end up with one.’ So, then Collins stepped in, and he got suckered into bringing home a mouthy white kitten, with the brightest green eyes. He named her Precious. Somehow it’s my fault when we were just doing a partnership where if people brought in their adoption certificate then they would get a free drink at the arena to help clear the shelter,” he explains, taking a seat on the black loveseat beside me.
“Oh, and I called around and found a place that we can drop the gender results off to and they can have a cake ready in twenty-four hours.” He tacks on.
“Yay, I’m so excited. Sounds like quite the day.” I chuckle, “Dom would have left with like three dogs if he did that ad. Didn’t think Collins was a cat guy, but it makes sense.”
“Yeah, I guess he’s always wanted one, and this was just an excuse for him to take the leap. How was your day?”
“Honestly… exhausting, and would you believe I had a really weird conversation with Harley? But, that’s neither here nor there.”
We sit in peaceful silence watching the city pass us by for a bit. I twiddle my thumbs staring out over the river, cars beeping, people giggling as they walk by the water, the bright lights casting a warm glow on the dim streets below. I spend the time readying myself to spit out my appreciation for Tate’s offer and that I’d like to take him up on it.
I have this horrible trait of just ripping the bandaid off when it comes to Tatum, rather than attempting to sugarcoat a conversation with him. Eventually, the anxiety spills out, and I blurt, “I have decided to graciously accept the good sir’s offer of patronage.” Pulling out the debutante's voice is just the icing on top of the cake.
“Tally-ho, fair maiden, we must begin making arrangements immediately,” Tatum chokes out, struggling to contain his infectious laugh. He clears his throat before adding, “Are you serious?”
“Um…” I start, clearing my throat in return, “Yes, I would like to use the time to work on my debut novel and to prepare for and nurture the baby.”
“Okay.”
“That’s all? No other questions, comments, concerns...”
“Nope. I left the offer on the table and I still want to help. We agreed the money will go to you, for you to do with what you will.. Once it’s in your hands, it’s out of mine and I don’t need—or want—to know where it’s going. It’s none of my business.”
I struggle to wrap my head around what his reason for doing this is. “Sorry, it’s just... With my Dad, money was a big way he tried to hold control over my life. So I think I prepared myself to give you every single detail.” I exhale a deep breath, reining my thoughts in. “Thank you, Tate. It means so much that you are willing to do this.”
He smiles softly at me now, his right dimple more prominent than his left. His hazel green eyes sparkling in the dim city lights. I find myself drawing into him, scooting closer and wrapping my arms around him. My head rests gently against his shoulder as he wraps his dress shirt-clad arm around me.
“I’ll do anything for you, Darcy.”
It’s barely a murmur, but I heard it loud and clear. Not only does my heart react to his quiet pledge, its beat hastening, but for some unholy reason my pussy decides it’s the perfect time to start its own palpitations. I need to get the heck out of here before I do something stupid—like pounce on him right here on this far too public balcony.
“You don’t mean that.” I try to laugh it off, but he isn’t laughing with me, killing mine as quickly as it bubbled out of me. Deciding there has never been a better time for a quick escape, I pull myself from his grasp and stand awkwardly. Unable to contain myself, I circle back to my debutante accent. “Good heavens I think ‘tis past my bedtime.Thanks again, Tate.”
“Goodnight, Mama.” Clearly able to tell that I'm beyond flustered he winks at me, and I hightail it to the privacy of my bedroom.
After a very quick and very cold shower that I desperately hoped would take the edge off, I lie in bed for what feels like hours. I can’t get comfortable, moving restlessly from side to side. Staring wide-eyed at my ceiling, failing to escape into my monster romance, attempting to orchestrate my debut—my brain refuses to cooperate and all I can think about isTatum fuckingReed. His piercing eyes, the way he calls me Mama, the feeling of his veiny, circumcised cock sliding in and out of me. It’s all escalated so quickly and now my nipples are hard and I’m rubbing my thighs together eager to ease some of the tension.
Fuck it. No one is going to know unless I tell them.How could they know?I reach into my nightstand, pulling out a small, black clit stimulator before doing away with my shorts and spreading my legs. I drift my fingers along my body, pausing to pinch and pull at my tender nipples, before introducing them to my arousal.
“Jesus Christ, what is this mandoingto me?” I whisper breathlessly to absolutely no one. I turn the vibrator on its middle setting, my carefully perfected amount of stimulation. With a soft and steady touch, I center my favorite toy onto my bundle of nerves, hissing at the feeling briefly before settling into it. I let my eyes drift close and replay the night of Kodi and Maverick’s wedding. I’m trying to be quiet but helpless to stop the small whimpers and moans that escape my lips as I make myself cum to my fantasy of more pleasure-filled nights with Tatum.
Chapter12
Metaphorical Knees
Tatum || 17 weeks pregnant, October
Ididn’t mean to say out loud that I’d do anything for her. It just slipped out, spurred by the weight of her arms around me and her faint vanilla scent wafting into my nose. I mean it, though. Watching her bear our child has me feeling a fierce sense of protectiveness over her heart, her mind, fuck even her body.
Darcy went to lie down after our conversation, and as I’m passing by her bedroom door I overhear faint whimpers emanating from within. At first, I think that she’s crying, or maybe not feeling well. But, as I edge closer to the door—tempted to stick my ear against it like some peeping Tom—her whimpers turn into pleasure-filled moans and I find myself stopped dead in my tracks.
My cock immediately grows stiff in my slacks. The faint buzz of a vibrator softly carries outside the room and I think back about our first, and only, night together. I relive the way that her pussy stretched around my fingers as I pumped them into her, the way her back arched in the throes of her orgasm, and I wonder if she ever masturbates while she thinks about us. My hands move of their own accord, and I unbutton my pants, pulling my cock out, and slowly stroke it in the middle of the hallway.Jesus, I am acting like a horny teenager.
As her moans become louder and more erratic, I pump my cock faster, my forehead falling lightly against the door. I bite my lip to stifle a groan when she lets out one last, long sigh of pleasure, and I imagine her body writhing beneath mine as she comes. Following her over the edge, I cum all over my hand. Careful not to make a mess, I stuff myself back into my underwear and head to my bedroom to clean myself before falling into bed for a fitful night's sleep.
* * *
Darcy hasone last week of her job before she can focus on writing and resting. At that point, her rest and hydration are going to be the priority. Her nausea came back with a vengeance last week. She says she isn’t vomiting as much as she was, but she’s miserable and on the verge of upchucking every time she eats.
