Vaughn rubs soothing circles on my back. “Try to relax. And did you not hear me earlier? Marine mammals did not enter my comments at any point.”
I smile to myself. “Fine. I’ll be cheery.” I don’t sound completely on the bandwagon, but then again, he’s right. I’ve gotta go into birthing this little girl with full-on positivity and ready to party.
Vaughn’s gravelly laugh feels good, and it causes me to close my eyes just before his palm finds my belly to rub circles.
It appears his hand has no plans on leaving either.
* * *
Waking up,it hits us as soon as we look at one another.
Yeah, Vaughn and I really did that last night. Had excellent sex, not worrying about repercussions.
Give us an award, because without any words and only a few good beats of searching one another’s eyes, our bodies become flush and ready. He throws the pregnancy pillow to the ground right before he slides into me, and we smolder together.
This isn’t fair. I’m always horny these days. He wakes up hard, and he’s offering. What kind of woman would ignore all of that?
A smart one.
Nope, not me, with a college degree and motherhood on the horizon. It’s me, I’m acting a fool.
But it’s oh so good.
Vaughn’s warm breath against my skin sends ripples through my body, and his mussed hair, with his accompanying gravelly noises in the back of his throat are just so freaking fantastic.
I would completely agree for him to tie me to the bed and take me like this whenever he wants.
He pumps into me, and it feels even more sensitive than last night. Vaughn’s being tender, and our eyes connect while our hands entwine. I’m too far gone. And so is he when he’s filling me up.
He collapses to his back, while I just breathe out a heavenly feeling and rest my head against the pillow.
Maybe we fall back asleep, or it’s simply fatigue still circling me, but we rest for a few minutes before Vaughn vacates the bed and stands, and then I wonder if regret is now hitting him.
“Want to join me in the shower?” he asks as if this is a normal day.
I twist part of my body to look at him. “Hell no. Let’s just pile up our lack of crossed lines even more.”
The corners of his mouth twist. “Language, Isla,” he teases.
“Oh shit… wait… no, ahh, I curse like a sailor sometimes.” My eyes drop to my belly. “Sorry, little girl.”
“You do that a lot? Talk to her?”
“Well, yeah, you’re supposed to, so they get used to your voice,” I explain.
His eyes roll. “That’s just great. My daughter has heard me basically be an jackass and say really dirty things to her mom. That’s how she knows my voice.”
I snort a laugh. “Oops.”
Then the air turns serious between us, especially when Vaughn sits on the bed next to me. “We’ll talk when I’m back in a few days. Maybe my trip is a good thing, so we can both think without distraction.”
“Yeah.” My voice is soft. “You’re right.”
The back of his hooked finger glides along my cheek before Vaughn kisses my forehead then pats my belly. Then he’s off to the bathroom for a shower that I choose not to join.
But I have no control of my mouth spitting out things I probably shouldn’t say or ask. “Vaughn,” I call out, and he stops when he is about to open the door.
He glances to me with a glint in his eyes. “Yeah?”
