CHAPTER 23
TRACY
Tracy stuffed her clothes into the small overnight bag and tossed it on the floor by the door. No matter how much she loved Victoria and Jack’s estate, there was no place like home. She had things to do. She needed to get back into the office. She did as much work as she could from Victoria’s, but she didn't have the resources that working in her office would provide.
As she collected her toiletries from the bathroom, she studied herself in the mirror. Her dark skin was clear and smooth and with her hair in two cornrows, she looked younger than usual. Tracy’s eyes lowered to her slightly swollen belly. She, instinctively, placed a protective hand over her baby.
Not too long ago, Tracy wasn't even sure that she wanted to keep her baby. But, at that moment, the only thing she felt was true love.
In order to be more comfortable, Tracy pulled the elastic waistband of her Victoria’s Secrets yoga pants under her belly. As of late, a t-shirt and yoga pants were the uniform of the day. But Tracy was going back to work. Which meant she needed to shop for a work wardrobe that fit.
Tracy placed her personal items in a small bag and went to leave the bathroom, but then she realized that, of course, she had to pee again. As she pulled down her pants and plopped down on the toilet, it became clear to Tracy that she would spend the majority of her pregnancy on the toilet. She propped her elbows on her thighs, rested her face in her hands, and relieved herself.
Tracy’s head flew up when she heard the sound of the bedroom door open and close.
“Just a minute!” she shouted from the bathroom.
Since she was alone in her assigned guest room, she hadn't bothered to close the door. Tracy tugged at the roll of toilet paper, but the footsteps got closer.
“I’m on the toilet!” she warned.
“Yes. I can see that.”
The deep baritone was coming from Francis. He was leaning against the doorjamb with his arms crossed, donning a sexy smirk. The sight of him nearly took Tracy’s breath away. He was wearing a black t-shirt, jeans, and combat boots, a look that she had never seen on Francis. His dark hair fell slightly over his forehead. A five o'clock shadow gave him the “hot, bad boy” look. There was a young and mischievous air about him. Had she not been sitting on a toilet, embarrassed as hell, Tracy might have swooned.
“Francis!” she screeched. “I’m on the toilet!”
“Again, I can see that. Do you need assistance?”
“No! Get out!”
Francis furrowed his brow and uncrossed his arms. “Why? Do you take number two?” he asked.
“What?! No!” Tracy gasped. “Oh my God, Francis. Get out!”
Tracy was mortified. She’d never had a man, not even Steve, watch her pee.
“No. I’ve missed you. Clean yourself so that I can hold you.”
“No?” Tracy repeated.
She couldn't believe what was happening. Did he plan on watching her wipe?
“Tracy, I have touched, kissed, sucked, and licked every part of you. My eyes won't leave you until I’ve held you to my satisfaction.”
“Francis-—
“Andiamo. Hurry up, donna.”
Tracy rolled her eyes as she wiped. After her second wipe, she stood and corrected her clothing. She walked over to the sink to wash her hands, and Francis hugged her from behind. He inhaled her scent and kissed the side of her neck, and lowered himself just low enough to press his generous dick against her ass. As she washed her hands, Tracy could feel a tightening of her nipples, and a throb in her core. Francis’ very presence made her body react in a way that it had never reacted before.
Francis grabbed a hand towel from the vanity and handed it to Tracy. As she dried her hands, he covered her belly with his big hand.
“How is my bambino?” he whispered in her ear.
“So far, so good.”
Francis pulled her close to him and caressed her face. “Did you miss me?”
