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My cock’s hard and every muscle in my body is tense. I haven’t fucked anyone since the day I met River, and this waiting game has been sexually frustrating, to say the least. I have no doubt in my mind that’ll it be worth it, but that doesn’t ease the need.
I palm my shaft and stroke it a few times, fantasizing about River being in here with me. Memories flood in from all the intimate moments we shared, and I’m desperate to feel those again, more than anything, but I know waiting is what’s best. But fuck, being around her every day hasn’t made that easy.
Tightening my grip, I pump myself faster as I place my free hand on the wall for support. Her gorgeous face, her sweet voice, her stunning eyes. Everything about her flashes through my mind as I envision making sweet love to her again. Those memories of us haunt me, fueling every stroke I make harder and harder until I have nothing left.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
RIVER
“I miss you so much,” I tell Natalie, standing in front of my phone so she can see how big my belly is getting. I’ve been trying to FaceTime with her as much as possible, so she can be involved, too. When we chat like this, it’s almost as if she’s here with me, which helps comfort the anxiety that creeps up every once in a while.
“You’re the cutest pregnant woman I’ve ever seen! Nothing but belly. I’m not even kidding. I hope to look half as good as you when I start popping out Adam’s spawns.” Natalie’s been gushing about how great I look during the entire call, and I find it quite comforting considering I feel like a blimp these days.
“You’re just saying that because you’re my best friend,” I quip with a big smile, turning to the side. “Tell me about the wedding details. Did you set a date yet?” I lower my shirt over my belly and walk closer to the phone.
Her face lights up, and her tone goes up in pitch. “We’re planning something for the fall, but no exact date yet. As soon as we set it in stone, you’ll be the first to know. I can’t walk down that aisle without you up there next to me.”
“You know I wouldn’t miss it for the world. When do you plan to go dress shopping? Anytime soon?”
“Nope, not yet. You know how I am though.” Natalie chuckles.
“Procrastination station.”
We continue our conversation until I hear a horn honking outside.
“Shit. I gotta go, Nat. Benita is here to pick me up for lunch.”
She waves her hand. “Already replacing me, huh?”
“Trust me when I say no one could ever replace your obnoxious loud mouth.”
Placing her hand over her heart, she lets out an aww. We say our goodbyes, and I grab my purse, lock the door, and walk to the car. Benita is singing at the top of her lungs to Taylor Swift, and she’s so into her vocal performance, she doesn’t hear me knocking on the window to unlock the door.
“Shit,” she says when she realizes and turns down the music.
“There’s something about T. Swift that gets me all pumped up,” she admits.
“Really? I’d think you’d be into that old-time country music,” I say as I reach for my seat belt and buckle.
Benita playfully rolls her eyes with a smile. “I’m not a Southern cliché, River!”
I arch a brow, challenging her statement.
“Okay, maybe a little.” She shrugs, and I chuckle.
On the way over to the diner, my stomach starts growling, and that’s when I realize how hungry I am. By the time we park, I’m ready to eat a damn horse—the whole thing, by myself.
As soon as we walk in, Betty gives us a big wave from across the small dining area and walks over to us with menus.
“Hey, Mama,” she says to me, patting my back. “You’ve been doing okay?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ve been really great,” I tell her.
She takes our drink order, and as soon as she comes back with them, we order our food. As Betty walks off, Benita excuses herself to call Aaron about the boys. I pull out my phone and take a photo of the diner and shoot it over to Natalie, so she can see how country it is with the western décor randomly placed on the wall.
Just as I get a text from her, Benita returns.
“Took you long enough,” I joke, but she doesn’t say anything.
I’m so into my phone, that when I look up, I don’t see Benita sitting across from me. My smile instantly fades as the blonde woman glares at me with her fingers interlocked together on the table. She’s staring, studying, and judging me. Her dark eyes scrutinize me as she narrows them.
“Can I help you?” I ask, returning the daggers she’s shooting at me.
