So with eight weeks left to go and with pre-season training starting, I knew Amber’s mood was going to be a mixture of stormy and humid at best.
She was huge, something that I avoided telling her. Our boy was topping out at the ninety-seventh centile for size, and she was finding the last few weeks – I had the sense not to refer to it as a couple of months – tiring and uncomfortable. The weather didn’t help; it was one of the hottest summers on record and the nights were clammy, meaning sleep wasn’t easy to come by.
Luckily, the length of her cervix was still just in the normal range for what it should be – just, and closely monitored, so as the weeks had gone on, we’d become less anxious, less worried about twinges, and more confident in kitting out the nursery and buying baby clothes.
“I really wish I could go back to work.”
I heard this statement at least three times a day. At least two of those times I ignored it, because it was often buried in a rant about not being able to see her toes anymore or bend down to pick something up and be confident that she could get back up again. At least once every two days I threw in a story about how grumpy The Count was, or told her something that Jude had done that was excruciatingly annoying, and I made sure to do it when she was relaxed, so she’d respond withI glad I’m here and not there. Genny and Neva had been meeting up with her a lot, and there had been some days when she’d come to the training ground and met up with them or sat with The Count and observed how we were all moving.
I wrapped my arms around her, because we were in bed, the girls settled and asleep and Jez out for the night playing chauffeur for Jesse after he ended up with a driving ban for six months. The nanny was having a well-deserved night off and had gone out with his new girlfriend, who happened to be the doctor overseeing Amber’s pregnancy.
I didn’t just share my bed with Amber now; I shared it with at least two extra cushions and some other shit that I had no concept of. Given that she was a physio, she had enough ideas to write a book about how to stay sane during pregnancy – if she managed to do so.
My arm rested over the side of her belly, my son giving it a good kick when I pressed it a little.
“Stop teasing him. He’s near my bladder.” She held my hand still against her skin.
I laughed, spooning her, my cock waking up, which was slightly optimistic. “He’s practicing taking a free kick.”
“He can practice when he can walk and kick a ball, not while he’s stretching my uterus.” She wiggled her ass into my groin. “I think I’ll take the season off.”
This was what I was hoping to hear, although it completely contradicted her wanting to go back to work.
“I thought you wished you could go back.”
“Hmmm, I don’t think I phrased it quite right. I wish I could go back to work because that would mean I could do things like see my toes and tie my laces. They would be intrinsically linked.”
My hand travelled up to her breasts, grazing her nipple over the thick cotton vest she was wearing.
“There’s no pressure for you to go back at all.” I’d mentioned this once before, but it had been at the wrong time, so I’d nearly lost my head.
She arched her back which was my cue to carry on what I was doing. Amber’s tits were my obsession, something she was aware of and definitely made the most of. She’d asked once if I’d be jealous if she breast fed, a question which had me laughing for five minutes solid before she realised it was stupid.
“Genny’s mentioned flexible hours. I know there’s no pressure – thank you.” She purred a little as I carried on with my hand.
Her house had sold as soon as it had gone on the market. She now had possession of more of the dressing room than I did, and my bathroom was loaded with her products. I’d even used her shower gel the other day, which had resulted in a shit ton of piss-taking from Jesse and Rowan. My shower gel had been hidden behind at least three different bottles of hers.
“See how you feel.” I kissed the side of her neck, my cock now at full strength, pressing against her ass.
“I feel pretty good right now.” She turned her head and we managed an untidy kiss.
I was feeling pretty good too.
Or I was, until I heard the door be pushed open, the bottom of it running over the carpet.
“Daddy! I had a bad dream!”
I was having a bad dream right now. My cock definitely thought so.
Zara came into the room like a rocket and then braked before she jumped on the bed, remembering that Amber was there, and her belly took up a third of the space.
“Remember it isn’t real.” I felt Amber push me backwards with her ass, making room for Zara to climb in the bed next to her, aware that I hadn’t fully deflated.
It felt like a small elephant was getting in with us.
“What was it about?” Amber asked.
Zara sat up, clearly fully awake. “There was a monster in the fridge.”
