The meeting drags on as we go through one business concern after another. In the corner of my eye, I see Seraphina stifling a few yawns. Under cover of stretching, I put an arm around her back, then slide my hand lower, searching for the waistband of her skirt. I find it and slip my fingers underneath. She’s squeezed between me and the armrest, so I know no one can see what I’m doing. But when I find my way into her panties, she jumps, startled. That little movement gives me just enough room to reach her pussy discreetly. Well, I think I’m being discreet, but I see Logan’s eyes flicker toward her, and a smirk play at the edges of his lips. The asshole always knows exactly what I’m up to. I wonder if that’ll ever change.
Still, I couldn’t ask for a more loyal friend. He quickly goes back to his notes and starts talking about some boring thing, drawing the others’ attention so that no one else suspects what I’m up to. I take advantage of that cover to flick a finger back and forth along her folds, finding them already drenched. Then I slip a curved finger up her pussy.
She inhales sharply, but tries to cover it with a cough. I keep my finger there, swirling it around just a bit, rubbing the spot that drives her crazy. She places her elbow against the armrest and leans her face on her hand, trying to conceal her reaction, but the more she tries to hide it, the more some sadistic impulse in me tries to make her break.
I retract my finger then push it in further, and she crosses her legs in an attempt to stay still. But that only gives memore access to her, my finger burying itself all the deeper. I note her hand, clenched in a fist, trembling in her lap. My own hand is somewhat cramped under her, but I still manage to get into a rhythm, thrusting a finger lightly into her over and over, enjoying the blush that spreads over her face.
At last, I hear her breath hitch as her pussy clenches around me. I prolong her orgasm, my finger still pressed on the spot deep within her, until she sits back on the couch, her back leaning against my arm, somehow still managing to keep her composure even though I can tell she’s gone limp.
I keep my finger buried within her for the rest of the meeting, and she occasionally wriggles over me, first in discomfort then in frustrated need. But my finger stays resolutely still until Logan stands up, signifying the end of the meeting. At that point, I withdraw it and help her up, before accompanying the others casually to the door, keeping my telltale hand, still shiny with her arousal, carefully concealed against her back.
“Well, see you next week in Astley,” says Logan, lifting up his right hand to shake mine with a sly little smirk.
I glare at him, keeping my own hand behind Seraphina’s back. “See you,” I mutter at last, thumping him on the shoulder, and his smirk turns into a wide grin.
Everest pauses before leaving, and turns around. “By the way, congratulations.”
“Huh?”
I’m vaguely aware of Seraphina shaking her head vigorously, butEverest is completely oblivious to it.
“Yeah, you know. The pregnancy. You’re going to make a great mother.”
Logan grabs Everest’s arm and practically yanks him from the room.
“Fucking idiot,” he hisses, and Everest grows pale.
“Oh, fuck… fuck… didn’t Damien know?”
“Why the fuck do you think she askedmefor the pregnancy test instead of Damien?”
“But then… but then… why did you tell me?”
“Because I thought you could keep a secret!”
Vincent closes the door hurriedly and I hear their muffled voices continue to bicker like the fucking third graders it sometimes feels like they are.
But I’m a lot less interested in their fighting than I am in the girl beside me who currently looks like she wishes she could disappear six feet underground.
I close the distance between us and capture her chin in my hands, staring into her violet eyes as they dart around the room uncomfortably.
“So, you’re pregnant,” I breathe.
She looks down, keeping her eyes resolutely away from mine.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Well…” she clears her throat. “I wasn’t sure… I wasn’t sure that’s what you wanted.”
I snort. “Didn’t I tell you I wanted you to make me dozens of kids? And I’m pretty sure I made it clear I wasn’t talking about kid goats, either.”
She hiccups nervously. “I just thought… you might have changed your mind. You haven’t brought it up in a while.”
“I certainly did not change my mind,” I say, staring at her intently. “Unlessyoudon’t want kids?”
I try to read her reaction, but her eyes are still averted. There’s nothing I’d rather do than raise a family with the love of my life. But I also realize with a pang that if the love of my life told me she didn’t want to have kids… then I’d drive her to the abortion clinic without a moment of hesitation.
Fuck, I really have changed. I’ve grown soft. All I want is to make my girl happy. Whether that means having ten kids, or no kids at all.
