“Yes,” she moaned, “Oh God yes.”
Gwenyth’s orgasm hit her hard. She closed her eyes and reveled in the primitive sensation as she continued to ride up and down on Sam’s thick cock. Sam grabbed her hips with a growl, meeting her thrusts like a wild animal. “Faster, baby,” he gritted out, his jaw clenching. “Give it to me.”
Gwenyth picked up the pace, riding up and down his impressive length harder and faster. Sam threw his head back and groaned, and with one final thrust, spurt his hot cum deep inside of her body.
Gwenyth fell on top of Sam, sated and exhausted. She lay there replete, basking in the feel of his hands wandering around her backside to cup and caress, knead and rub. And five minutes later when his manhood lengthened while still inside of her, Gwenyth felt desire stir to life again. She raised her head and grinned wickedly down at her husband. “Is that for me?” she asked coyly.
Sam grinned back, kneading her buttocks with his large fingers and callused palms. “All of it, sweetheart,” he rasped out.
“What a thoughtful gift.” To show her appreciation, Gwenyth leaned down and kissed Sam soundly and suggestively on the lips. She sighed happily. To find a lover as skilled as her husband would be a hard thing indeed.
Pun intended.
Chapter 18
The next several weeks were some of the busiest Sam and Gwen would ever know in their marriage. There were so many decisions to be had, so many things that needed to be ironed out before the end of the year.
Harry and Monique were set to leave for Washington the day after New Year’s. January would also take Verlene and Gwenyth to southern France to catalogue the “Touch Me” line, and of course, both of their husbands had decided to accompany them. By the time the foursome returned to the States, Gwenyth and Sam would have maybe a week or two at best before the Crusaders intense spring training season began. Then the couple would head for Boston until the regular baseball season’s end.
All of this meant a lot of decisions, thus a grueling schedule for the Tremonts throughout November and December. Would they rent a bigger place in Boston or keep Sam’s old one? Where in Tampa did they want to purchase a home? Should they stay in Hyde Park or move closer to the beach? How many rooms should the house have? And didn’t that depend upon how many children they eventually wanted?
Sam had insisted on eight or nine kids, but had relented in the end and begrudgingly agreed to two or three. He’d decided, though, that their oldest would be a son named Jackson, after Sam’s father. The next two would be girls, twins preferably, and the names were negotiable. Gwenyth had simply nodded, pretending to listen to her husband’s ranting—an effective way of dealing with him that she’d since learned in her seven-week-old marriage.
There were also decisions to be made at Jones & Jones now that Gwenyth would be based out of Boston for a few months out of every year for the next four years. Especially since Verlene planned to retire her camera after the “Touch Me” shoot and relegate her talents to the business end of their company. In the end, grandmother and granddaughter had decided to promote Gwenyth into Verlene’s position, promote Ed into Gwenyth’s, and hire a new assistant photographer. Interviews were currently underway.
On top of all of that, Gwenyth began to suspect that she was pregnant. She hadn’t had her period in over two months, her breasts were tender and swelling, and she couldn’t brush her teeth before noontime without gagging. She would have caught on a lot sooner had the improbability of it not been higher; she did, after all, take her birth control pills consistently at the same time each day.
When the family doctor confirmed Gwenyth’s suspicion, she swore Dr. DuBois— who also happened to be Verlene’s closest friend—to secrecy, wanting to wait and share the incredible news with her family on Christmas Eve. This new development invariably meant that there were more decisions to be had, but she was too overcome with joy to care. She and Sam hadn’t planned to have children until his four-year obligation in Boston was fulfilled, but Gwenyth knew he’d still be ecstatic when he found out.
Amidst all the planning and working, Gwenyth and Sam still found time to have fun together. Lazy breakfasts that typically ended in passionate lovemaking, leisurely lunches around town that also generally culminated in passionate lovemaking, and expensive, decadent dinners that, of course, inevitably ended in passionate lovemaking. Gwenyth had no doubts as to how she’d become pregnant so soon in her marriage. Her husband was much like a wild animal in heat.
The Tremonts, however, still managed to do a lot of things together besides make love. They took in shows at the Tampa Performing Arts Center, shopped together at the St. Petersburg Pier, strolled hand-in-hand down Clearwater beach collecting shells and enjoying the breeze off the Gulf, and one of the museums in St. Petersburg had an early Roman-period ruins exhibit which Sam had insisted the entire family attend on opening night. Gwenyth and Sam had returned to view it twice more since then.
The only situation that possessed the ability to cast a shadow over a marriage that was otherwise sturdily growing happier every passing day was Detective Anderson’s as of yet stagnant progress concerning the threatening NAM notes. That, and the fact that Sam still hadn’t told Gwenyth that he loved her yet.
Gwenyth took her husband’s stubbornness with a grain of salt, however, since she pretty much knew he was in love with her anyway. His actions spoke louder than words ever could, though she was in touch with her emotions enough to realize that she still longed to hear him actually admit to it out loud. She figured it was only a matter of time now before Sam’s stubbornness came to an end.
The threatening notes, on the other hand, showed no signs of stopping. Gwenyth received three more of them before the Christmas season closed in, which only served to infuriate Sam beyond reason. On the last occasion, a week after Thanksgiving, Sam had ranted and raved during the entire trip back to their apartment. Gwenyth had gently pointed out to her husband the futility in getting angry, to which Sam had responded, “yeah, but it sure as all hell makes me feel better.” So because it did, Gwenyth did her wifely duty and listened to him gripe for hours at a time whenever a new note arrived. She didn’t take the notes seriously in the least, but she knew her husband did, so she tried to be supportive.
A few days before Christmas, Gwenyth and Candy plunked down into Candy’s SUV to drive over to the house the Tremonts had purchased only a week past. The old owners were packed and gone as of midnight last night and Gwenyth and Sam were anxious to move in. Sam wanted their first official night in the house to commence on Christmas Eve, which was only two days away. Gwenyth had told him he was being overly ambitious, but Sam had grown stubborn, insisting that he and Harry could get it done.
Much to Gwenyth’s surprise, it looked as though Sam’s timetable was going to be workable. She had to hand it to her husband…he had said he and Harry would get the job done while Gwenyth was working and get the job done they had. The only things left to move in were possessions of aesthetic value, such as Sam’s collection of Egyptian and Greek paintings and sculptures and Gwenyth’s boxes of fragiles. Tomorrow would be set aside for unpacking enough boxes to make the house live-in-able. If her husband played as relentlessly on the ball field as he did in real life, she now understood why he was the Crusaders most esteemed hitter.
Candy started the ignition of her apple red SUV, then pulled out of Gwenyth’s soon-to-be former driveway. Smiling brightly, she glanced over at her best friend who was sitting in the passenger seat. “I’m so glad you two decided to stay in Hyde Park. I know Clearwater Beach is only a half hour drive, but it’s just too far.”
Gwenyth chuckled. “Sam and I felt the same way. He didn’t want to be so far removed from our family and friends either.” She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Especially now that he has found another lover of archeology in that accountant Marc we introduced him to.”
“Marc, that’s right. Him and Sam are pretty tight now, huh?”
“And Harry too. They think they’re the Three Musketeers or something.” Chuckling, Candy stopped at the red light.
“What about that lawyer guy, Devin?”
“What about him?”
“He’s been to your apartment a couple of times with Marc.”
Gwenyth grew thoughtful as she considered that fact. “True, but somehow he’s remained the outsider.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I get the impression that Marc pretty much brings him along because he’s too easy going to hurt Devin’s feelings, but I don’t think Marc particularly cares for his company. Sam either for that matter.”
