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“I love you,” he growled after we finally moved to the bedroom, his hardness still buried in my sweet folds. “You know I can’t share you with another man.”
“And I don’t want to be with another man,” I said, gently caressing his cheek. That was the end of the conversation, and the next day, I handed in my resignation, much to my manager’s consternation. In the meantime, I still work at Sixth Street Espresso, but it’s more for fun than anything else now. Julian pays all our expenses and as a result, my tips from the coffee shop are really just spending money, although there’s not much to buy other than the occasional small gift for my man.
However, Julian and I are still active with Club Z even if I no longer work as a hostess, and tonight, we’re going to the compound to enjoy ourselves. It’s been a while, and I’m looking forward to it.
“Are you almost ready?” the CEO growls while kissing my cheek as he comes up behind me in our bedroom.
I put down a tube of red lipstick and smile. “Yes, definitely. What do you think of my outfit, by the way?”
The gorgeous CEO whistles as he surveys my curves, shaking his head.
“Sweetheart, you look amazing and I’m not sure I want to take you to the club looking like this.”
I giggle.
“Well, that’s too bad because I promised Hadley we’d go tonight, so we have to make an appearance.”
But I understand what Julian’s saying because I’m wearing one of my scandalous dresses. To be honest, “dress” doesn’t even describe it. It’s more like a strip of fabric across my breasts which shows off my hard nips connected to a tiny vertical string of fabric running between my pussy lips. No, it doesn’t cover my sweetest spot. The string bisects the juicy flesh, and I’ve made sure to touch myself up with some perfume there so that Julian will be greeted with a sensuous fragrance when he’s down in that area. With one last titter, I slip into sky-high heels and struggle into a trench coat before turning to look at my man over one shoulder.
“Ready to go, big boy?”
My boyfriend growls and within half an hour, we’re at the compound. The lounge is already filled with elegantly dressed men and women, although quite a few of the hostesses are already beginning to disrobe. The girls look amazing, as always, in bras with scandalous cut-outs, silky negligees just begging to be torn, and stilettos that glitter. Some girls are already fully nude, their curves out for the men to enjoy, and a secret smile crosses my lips because I adored being a hostess. I loved being a wanton wench, and I’m glad there are other women assuming the role and enjoying it just as much.
But my place is with my man now, and I take Julian’s hand in my own before leading him to a couch in the shadows. The billionaire is so turned on that he doesn’t hesitate. In a flash, he has me on his lap, his hands pushing the fabric of my top off my breasts.
“I love you so much,” he rasps before sucking a pink nipple into his mouth. “More than life itself.”
I sigh and my eyes drift shut at the delicious tingles, but before things can get out of control, I sit up and look at him.
“Julian,” I murmur.
“Hmm?” he asks, still sucking on a tender nub.
“I have something to tell you.”
He pops off for a moment, those blue eyes flashing.
“What is it baby? Because I need into you sooner rather than later.”
I merely giggle and slip a hand over my tummy, caressing the soft bump there.
“Well, I’m pregnant,” I whisper in his ear. “That’s all I wanted to say.”
It takes the handsome CEO a second to register my words. But his expression is awestruck as he pulls away and looks me in the eye.
“Are you serious? We’re going to have a baby?”
I nod, smiling with tears in my eyes. “Yes, Julian. There’s going to be a baby Statham in about eight months. You’re going to be a daddy!”
He pulls me into his arms and presses his lips to my neck.
“A baby,” the CEO whispers in a broken voice. “Thank you, sweetheart because this is the best gift a woman can give a man. Imagine that: a child.”
I giggle and kiss him once more. “Well, I wanted to tell you because if we still want to play at Club Z, then we’d better get on it. After all, I don’t think people really want to see a nine-months heavy pregnant lady doing it as she heaves and pants.”
But my boyfriend merely shakes his head with a smirk.
“No, you’d be surprised, sweetheart. There are a lot of people out there who like seeing pregnant women get fucked. It’s kind of a fetish, but trust me, there are plenty of folks into it.”
