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The other woman giggles too, and then she and Chelsea begin sharing stories from their pregnancies. Meanwhile, I slump in my chair as my heart decelerates. It feels nice, to be honest, that everyone thinks I’m the father of the baby. Maybe Chelsea and I aren’t wearing rings, but hell, a lot of parents don’t get married these days. Besides, I treat Chelsea like my girlfriend or wife. My muscled arm is constantly around her waist, and I absolutely dote on the pregnant woman. It’s astonishing even to me, but I’m always making her cups of tea, not to mention giving the beautiful brunette foot rubs any time of the day or night.
It's crazy, I know. Me, Mason Richards, is giving a woman a foot rub. But I can’t help it because in the past two months, the two of us have settled into a comfortable rhythm that’s very evocative of a stable, steady relationship. Chelsea moved into the big house, but she never really took up residence in the suite that was allotted to her. Instead, I ravished her that first night together, and then couldn’t stop. I literally didn’t let her out of my arms until the wee hours of the morning, and then took her to my bed the second night, the third night, and every ensuing night as well. As a result, she basically moved into the master bedroom, and it’s nice actually. I enjoy feeling those sweet curves pressed against my side late at night, and I swear, the master suite would be cold and lonely these days without her.
But the insane part is that it’s been a month of pure hedonism now, and yet I haven’t gotten sick of the curvy girl at all. First, the physical connection between us is incredible, and there’s no stopping the filthy intimacies there. But it’s not just that either. Chelsea’s funny, gorgeous, and I love having her around, whether we’re chatting together, dining together, or just hanging out. Who would have thought, right?
Finally, my woman wraps up her conversation with the other pregnant lady and turns back to me with a bright smile before resting a small hand on my thigh.
“What are you thinking about?” she asks, tilting her head to the side with innocent eyes.
“You,” I answer simply as I take her tiny palm in my own.
Her beautiful smile grows even bigger as her cheeks start to turn a familiar shade of pink.
“Oh stop it,” she waves me off. “I know you have a lot on your plate with your business and all.”
“I do,” I acknowledge. “But I have a great staff to handle all that. They can manage for a few hours on their own, and so I’m thinking about how lucky this baby is going to be with you as their mother.”
Chelsea sighs and blushes.
“OMG, you’re so romantic,” she sighs, leaning her head against my shoulder. “What a softie.”
I harrumph a bit, but then smile.
“Yeah, I guess I am a softie now,” I growl in a low voice. “At least where you and the baby are concerned.”
My heart is hammering like a drum in my chest because holy shit, I’m such a fucking sap. But Chelsea doesn’t seem to notice. She sighs with contentment again as I grip her hand while trying to contain my emotions. What is it about this woman that makes me want to climb onto the nearest rooftop and scream how incredible she is loud enough for the entire world to hear? I’ve really lost my marbles.
But then, my pretty girl lifts her head to look at me with a small smile on her lips.
“Okay, it’s time for us to place our final bets,” she says in a playful tone. “Boy or girl?”
“Twins,” I growl.
“Don’t say that!” she scolds, slapping my arm again. “OMG, I would be so overwhelmed if it were twins. Besides, I would know by now. You know this isn’t my first ultrasound. They would have seen both babies if I was having twins.”
I shrug.
“Well, it’s always a possibility, and you know ultrasounds aren’t perfect. Sometimes, the second child is just hiding behind the first.”
She giggles.
“Yes, but they’d hear two heartbeats at least!”
I shrug and then grin.
“Just saying. Twins is my bet. One boy and one girl.”
Chelsea giggles again.
Mason Richards, I swear, if you jinx it and I end up having twins, I’ll murder you!”
“You’re so violent,” I tease before leaning in close. “But I like it,” I whisper in her ear. “It reminds me of some stuff I want to do to you tonight. What do you say, baby? A couple spanks to your clit, and then some anal spanking too? I know you like it.”
Her face is bright red as she clears her throat and looks around, trying to be sure that no one heard. No one else is paying attention to us, so she turns to look at me again.
“Don’t talk like that,” she whispers in a titillated voice. “It’s so wrong!”
But I can tell that her nipples are already hard, and I merely wink.
