“Know what you were like when you were eighteen?”
“Hmph.” Fuck yeah, I do. I take a long sip of my mai tai to calm my worries.
In true Millie fashion, she makes a big spectacle out of singing “Happy Birthday,” encouraging the entire restaurant to join in. But I love her for it.
Rather than return to our rooms with us, Kane takes off withactualpro surfer Drew Durham. On the walk back, I follow him on social media from my wife’s phone, just in case I need to keep tabs on him.
We brush our teeth in tandem, then Millie asks for privacy in the bathroom.
While waiting for her on the bed, I reply to a few text messages from my colleagues and shoot off a couple of pictures from dinner to Cam, Joey, and my mom, all of whom I FaceTimed earlier. Asher sent a video of Bea singing to me that pulls at my heartstrings. As a wedding gift last year, Asher asked Millie and me to be her guardians should anything happen to him. I don’t know who cried more, Millie or me.
All thoughts of my niece quickly fly out the window when my drop-dead gorgeous wife appears in the doorway.
Dressed in a pale blue satin bra and panty set, she’s a vision.
“Get in your birthday suit,” she commands, her voice dripping with seduction.
“How long have you been waiting to say that?”
“Three hundred sixty-five days.” She giggles as she struts to the side of the bed.
I stroke her leg, toying with the elastic at her hipbone, but when she yawns, I pause.
“Sorry.” She covers her mouth. “I’m still a little jet-lagged.”
“It’s okay, baby,” I soothe, sitting up against the pillows. “If you’re too tired?—”
“No.” She cuts me off. “Undress. I need to feel you.”
I hesitate for a moment, but my apprehension flees quickly when she starts tugging at my clothes. When she straddles my lap, my hands immediately gravitate to her thick thighs. I squeeze them tight, knowing how much she likes the bite of pain, and she rocks her hips against me in return, seeking friction.
The smooth satin of her panties feels like heaven against my growing cock. “Fuck, Millie. You’re soaked. Is that for me?”
Catching her lip between her teeth, she nods, eyes hooded. “Wanna see?”
“God yes,” I pant, impatiently tugging at the elastic and tearing the panties off her body.
Gasping, she greedily rubs her clit over my cock. With a teasing smirk, she unhooks her bra and tosses it off to the side—probably worried that if she doesn’t get rid of it, I’ll ruin it too—leaving her breasts hanging heavy above me.
“I want you so fucking bad right now, wife.” I take one perfectly peaked nipple into my mouth. “But fuck…” It pains me to still her hips. “Should we? You’re not supposed to have sex if you have a UTI, right?” Please,pleasetell me I’m sorely mistaken.
I like to think I know my wife better than anyone, but the unreadable expression she dons is baffling.
“About that…” she says, voice quivering. “Do you want the good news or the bad news?”
Still pinned beneath her, I break out into a cold sweat.
“The good news,” she says, putting me out of my misery, “isthat I don’t have a UTI. So yes, we can have sex. The bad news? I don’t think I can call you Daddy anymore.”
I frown. “What are you talking about?” If she’s no longer into my kink, I’ll understand, even if I don’t like it. I’d never want to make her feel uncomfortable.
Avoiding eye contact, she mindlessly runs her finger through the hair at my navel. After what feels like an eternity, she fixes her attention on me. “If I call you Daddy, what will the baby call you?”
All the oxygen is purged from my lungs, and my soul hovers above my body as my dreams come to life.
“What? There’s a baby… in there? Right now?” Blinking rapidly, I survey her midsection. “Fuck, Millie.Fuck. Why does that turn me on so much? Can I?” I hold a hand up, hovering an inch from her belly. I have to touch her. Hold her. Tell her how magnificent she is.
When she nods, her eyes brimming with tears, I roll her gently onto her back and rest my head on her stomach.
