Winnie chuckles. “If I were in your position, I’d want to as well. Oh, wait . . . is this why you texted me the other night? Is Hornsby not having sex with you because of Pacey?”
I nod. “Your boyfriend is being a wet blanket on my sexual appetite.”
“And I’m assuming by this killer dress that does wonders for your cleavage, you’re trying to break Hornsby with your feminine prowess.”
“Exactly,” I say, “but it’s not working.”
“Not that you want to hear this, but all I had to do was kiss Pacey, and that was the end of that. Have you tried kissing Hornsby?”
“Been there, done that,” I say, waving my hand in dismissal. “He kissed me back for a second, and then it was as if my brother was sitting on his shoulder, reminding him of what he shouldn’t be doing. He pulled away. It was absolutely humiliating.”
Winnie’s brow knits. “That’s awful. I’m so sorry. And because of Pacey?”
I nod. “Yes, because of him. But I’ve taken that humiliation and let it light a fire under my titillated ass, and now I’m determined to break him, but he’s not cracking.”
“What have you done?” Blakely asks while Winnie still has an irritated look on her face. “Maybe we can help you come up with new ideas.”
“What have I not done?” I ask, exhausted, just as a server brings us salads. Blakely ordered ahead so we wouldn’t have to wait long for our food. She’s thoughtful like that. “Let’s see, I’ve worn see-through tank tops. I’ve asked him to hold me at night again. I’ve worn a robe, loosely tied around my body and then asked him to massage me. I made all these moaning noises—”
“Classic, well done,” Blakely says.
“Yeah, but all it did was turn me on, so then I was like, fine, I’m turned on, I’ll take care of it. I asked him to hand me my vibrator from the nightstand, and that’s exactly what I did.”
“In front of him?” Winnie asks in dismay. “And he still didn’t do anything?”
“He was in the bathroom. I’m pretty sure he jacked off while in there, but still, he didn’t do anything to me. Oh, and I had him feel my boobs to see if they were bigger. He concurred they were, and that was it.”
“Wow,” Blakely says, sitting back in her chair. “I feel like the boob thing would have easily cracked him.”
“Nope.” I stuff some lettuce in my mouth. “And I’ve never felt sexier than right now. I always read that the second trimester is magical, but I didn’t think it would feel this great.”
“You look amazing,” Winnie says. “Seriously, I’d do you.”
“Thank you.” I toss my hand up in the air. “This dress alone should make him want to take me against a wall.”
“Has he seen you in the dress yet?”
“No, not yet. He bolted out this morning before I got dressed. And I’ll say this, I think he’s at his limit. I think he’s right there, and if I just push him a little more, he will fall over the edge. But I’m just not sure how to do it without grabbing his penis and sticking it in my mouth.”
“I mean, that is an option,” Blakely says.
“And what do I say? Oh, sorry, I thought it was a lollipop? My bad.”
“Pregnancy brain is a funny thing,” Blakely says. “My sister once served me a glass of milk when she was pregnant, but it wasn’t milk. It was her car keys. She legit had no idea. So slinking down and putting his dick in your mouth could possibly work.”
Deadpanned, I say, “I’m not doing that. He’d stop me before I even started.”
Winnie taps her chin. “Hmm, what if we get you some new sexy nighttime wear? Something that when you wake up, your boob is not even covered because the fabric is so loose?”
“That’s a good idea,” Blakely says. “Isn’t there a lingerie shop around the corner? We can see if they have anything.”
“I bet there’s a short nightgown that would work.”
“I feel like I tried that,” I say.
“But you said he’s on the edge, which means, if you keep pushing a little harder, he’ll crack.”
“Oh, and have you flirted with other guys in front of him?”
