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“She’s strong,” Ivy says.
“I can’t wait for D day, but before that, we have a wedding to plan. My secretary will call you tomorrow with a list of wedding planners, and you can decide which one you want to work with.”
Ivy smiles. “I can’t believe we’re actually going to get married.”
I nod. “We are. Meanwhile, we have a few interviews to attend. Word has leaked that I’m engaged, and there have been several calls to the clinic. We figure it’s better that the information comes from us to stop any speculation.”
Ivy looks puzzled. I don’t blame her. I’ve piled a lot of information on her. There’s been a lot of exaggeration and downright lies, but how do I explain the interviews?
“How would they know about our engagement? The only people who know are our families. I haven’t even told Peter.”
“Who knows where the press gets their info?” I peer into her face. “How do you feel about doing a series of interviews?”
“I don’t mind, though it will be weird talking about myself,” she says.
“Yeah, that’s always weird, but after this, no more press interviews.”
“Okay.”
She looks so small when she says okay that I’m tempted to call the whole thing off. All this is wrong, and even though I’m marrying her because I have feelings for her, it doesn’t sit well. The primary reason I agreed to do it was to protect the clinic.
“I have a burning urge to hold you,” I tell her. “Let’s go watch TV in the bedroom.” The last thing on my mind is watching TV.
“Good idea. I feel like stretching out and getting out of some of my clothes,” Ivy says.
“How about all of them?” I suggest following her down the hallway.
“I can consider it,” Ivy says.
In the bedroom, I make her stand next to the bed, and I slowly undress her. Her body is soft and yielding, and I can’t wait to bury my cock in her hot pussy.
“How can one woman be so beautiful, so sexy?” I pull down her panties, leaving her in just a bra.
The baby chooses that moment to pelt his mother with a strong kick. She yelps, and I rub circles around her belly.
“She’s excited to feel her daddy,” Ivy murmurs.
Did all men feel this fucking proud to be a dad soon? I feel like thumping my chest like a caveman. I step in and wrap Ivy in my arms and hold her close. She lets out a deep sigh.
“I could stay like this all night,” she says.
Her softness and warmth are like an aphrodisiac. I want to fuck her. I want to hear her cry out my name and beg me to go harder.
Ivy giggles, her laugh growing louder by the second.
Hearing the sweet sound of her laughter makes me smile. “What’s so funny?”
“You are,” she says. “The last thing you want is to cuddle, but you’re too much of a gentleman to say it.”
I grin sheepishly. “Is it my fault that my fiancée is too sexy?”
“No, it’s not.” She draws back to kiss me. Tiny kisses, which I barely feel but which send signals to my cock, and it starts to throb. She traces my lips with her tongue, and I try to stay still.
I manage for all of ten seconds.
I reach her back to unclasp her bra, and she removes it, tossing it to the side. I fill my hands with her breast and use my thumbs to tease her engorged nipples.
“Oh God, that feels so good,” Ivy said, pressing herself against my hands.
