A Family Woman Read online

  “Is that it? You think Doug’s a bad lay?”

  It was difficult to picture anyone named Doug getting groovy between the sheets. “I wouldn’t say that. I’m sure it’s not everything. Maddie has seemed antsy lately, like she has no clue what she wants when it comes to career, love life—anything really. Remember how she signed up for all those cooking classes because she got a wild hair about buying a restaurant, and then she didn’t bother going back after the first class?”

  Sarah nodded, lost in thought. She headed out of the city on a back road through uninhabited fields, and the road was as clear as can be.

  “Boulder?” I asked.

  “What?”

  “Are we going to Boulder?”

  “How’d you know?”

  “Just a guess, considering the route you’re taking. I’ll make a reservation for a hotel.” I swiped my phone screen and started to look up places.

  “Don’t forget a dinner reservation,” she barked.

  “Easy, bossy pants. So much for spontaneity.” I poked her with my elbow. “It’s a sad day when I’m the laidback loosey-goosey one in our relationship.”

  “Sorry. All of a sudden I have a hankering for Mexican tonight.” She chewed on a hangnail.

  “Not a surprise—”

  Sarah walloped my leg. “What does that mean?”

  I retreated close to the door. “Ouch! What was that for?”

  “Calling me fat. Just because I’m preggo doesn’t make it okay for you to make weight jokes.”

  “Are you kidding me? I did no such thing.” I rubbed my thigh to temper the burning sensation.

  “You were about to.” She clenched the steering wheel with both hands.

  “No, I wasn’t. I was going to say that we left before finishing our lunch—didn’t even bother having it packaged to go. Remember?”

  Sarah’s cheeks reddened, and her shoulders lost their tension. “That’s right. We did.”

  “Geez. When have I ever called you fat or insinuated it?”

  “Have you thought it?” She rubbed her belly, which barely offered a hint about her condition.

  Of course, I knew what caused her insecurity. Everyone loved to remind me I was clueless, but I’d have to be a complete moron not to realize that in six months Sarah would be as large as a house—for two. “Sarah, you are absolutely beautiful. Now and always.”

  “Even when I’ll inevitably blimp out?”

  “I wouldn’t call it blimping out.”

  “What would you call it, then?”

  “Being pregnant.” I shrugged. “With twins,” I added for good measure.

  She sighed.

  “Besides, you’ll be the most beautiful blimp.” I cowered against the car door again, protecting my face with raised hands, and closed my eyes.

  “Lizzie!”

  We both laughed.

  “Kidding, of course.” Sneaking a glance to make sure the coast was clear, I leaned over and massaged her stomach. “Don’t ever doubt how attracted I am to you. Not ever.”

  “Willing to put your money where your mouth is?” she countered.

  “I would rather put your pussy there.”

  That earned me a chuckle. “That’s on the agenda. Don’t fret.” She licked her lips.

  “Let me guess. After shopping and a fancy dinner?”

  “You know me so well.” She gunned the SUV to pass a car on the two-lane road.

  After she’d safely merged back into the right lane, I continued, “I hope so. Can’t imagine what it’d be like starting a family with a stranger.”

  “It still knocks me for a loop every time we mention starting a family. You?” Her voice confirmed her feelings.

  “At least I don’t faint each time anymore.” My mind flittered to my own messed-up family. The fear of becoming like them, even a scintilla, was hard to shake. One saving grace was that I kept reminding myself our marriage was much stronger than my parents’. Surely having a stronger bedrock increased the odds of raising well-adjusted children. And if one turned out to be a sociopath, from the research I’d done, there wouldn’t have been much we could have done to prevent it. Wait, was it psychopaths who were born that way and sociopaths were made, or vice versa? Did researching this crap say something demented about me?

  “Admit it. You nearly swooned this morning when we heard the second heartbeat.” Her hand grazed my thigh.

  “I did not!” I flat-out lied.

  We drove past a deserted gas station, and an idea materialized. I jerked my head back toward the dilapidated building. “I’ll make you a deal,” I said.

  “Does it involve sex?”

  “And shopping. Turn around and park behind that gas station. The backseat reclines. Let’s get our groove on, and then I’ll buy you everything your little heart desires.”

  “You make it sound like I expect gifts in exchange for sleeping with you.” She was already slowing down, looking for a space to turn around. No cars were in sight.

  “Expect…? No! But if it helps me get inside you right now, I’d buy you an entire shopping center.”

  Chapter Two

  After an afternoon of shopping, followed by a relaxing meal at a hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant Maddie had recommended via text, Sarah and I stepped into the hotel elevator a little after nine. We were the only two occupants. I managed to juggle the shopping bags enough to press the button for the ninth floor.

  Sarah crashed against the mirrored interior, yawning.

  “Bedtime?” I smiled.

  She returned my smile guiltily. “Maybe.” Her eyes fell on the lingerie bag in my left hand. “Would that be horrible of me, after everything you’ve done to throw together this romantic getaway?”

  “Yes, it would. We should just go home,” I joked, intentionally softening my tone.

  Sarah shook her head, keeping her eyes on mine. “Whatever. Besides, you already got a taste.”

  “True. But that was only a tease.” I elbowed her ribs. “Let’s get you in pajamas and into bed.”

  “Which ones?” Sarah motioned to the Victoria’s Secret bag.

  “The knit ones, if you plan on getting any sleep.” I made goo-goo eyes at her, and she smiled again, still looking guilty. “We have the whole weekend, and if you want to rest the entire time, I’m fine with that. I promise. You are growing my babies.”

  The elevator dinged, and I darted out an arm laden with bags to hold the door open for her. “After you, madam.”

  “I should get pregnant more often if this is how you treat me.”

  “Easy now. We have plenty of room for the twins, but if we keep having kids, we will have to move to a bigger place, and you know how much I hate change.” I set the bags down outside the door to fish the keycard out of my back jeans pocket. After the third swipe, the door unlocked.

  Hotel staff had prepared the room per my instructions when I checked in. The lights were dimmed, and rose petals decorated the bedspread. A bottle of non-alcoholic sparkling wine sat in a silver ice bucket.

  Sarah’s eyes swept through the room, noting the setup. “Now I really feel guilty.” She patted my cheek before letting herself fall back on the bed, her arms spread out. A single petal floated into the air, and she grabbed it and inhaled its heady scent.

  I crammed all the bags in the far corner, next to the nightstand, and then lay beside her on the king-size bed. “Don’t be. Making babies is a 24/7 job.” I skated my hand under her sweater and fondled her tummy.

  “That feels nice,” she murmured, her eyes closed.

  “Would you like a massage?”

  “Really?”

  The eagerness in her voice made me laugh. “It’s the least I can do.”

  “True. You got me into this.”

  “Me?” I squeaked. “If I remember correctly, you had the IVF doctor picked out before you even told me you wanted a baby.”

  Sarah ignored me and rolled onto her sid
e. “Massage, now.”

  “What, no please? I see how it’s going to be. Do you want to take your clothes off?”

  “I’m too tired. I never thought being pregnant would be so exhausting—I have to fight to stay awake past eight o’clock these days.”

  “I remember the days when you took me to bed early for different reasons. And you couldn’t keep your clothes on!” I pinched her side. “Now you don’t even want to get naked for a proper massage.”

  “Don’t worry. I booked us for real massages tomorrow. This is just a warm-up.” She tucked her hands under her chin.

  “Us?” I dug my fingers into her shoulders, kneading carefully.

  Sarah let out a satisfactory groan. “I’m going to need you to be on your toes, so we both need to get some rest. Come August, we won’t stop for almost two decades.”

  “Two decades! Way to sell this whole parenting thing.” I walked my fingers down her spine. Her shirt and sweater didn’t allow much room to maneuver. “Silly question. Can you have a real massage?”

  “Yep. I checked. The place caters to pregnant women.”

  “I should have known. You’ve already researched how many times you should be peeing every day.”

  “I thought every hour was excessive!” She bumped me with her hip.

  “Just wait. Soon it’ll be three times every half hour, according to some pregnancy research I’ve done.”

  “Lizzie!”

  I lay down next to her. “Don’t get all huffy. I know you’re loving this. You were born to be a mother. Our children are lucky.”

  She turned to stare into my face, her dark eyes gleaming. “Hold me.”

  I peeled back the covers, and Sarah snuggled into my arms, falling asleep almost instantly. Leaning back against the headboard, I watched the city lights outside the window sputter against the inky night.

  ***

  “Lizzie,” Sarah whispered.

  “Everything okay?” I asked in a groggy voice, doing my best to strong-arm my brain fully awake with a single shake of my head.

  “Yeah. Just checking whether you were asleep.” Her fingers teased one of my nipples under my cotton T-shirt, demanding my full attention.

  “You woke me in the middle of the night to ask me whether I was asleep?” I teased.

  Sarah rolled me onto my back and straddled my stomach. Reaching up, she eighty-sixed her sweater and T-shirt, revealing a ruby-red satin and lace bra. “Are you complaining?”

  I gripped the sides of her stomach. “Nope. No complaints.”

  The intensity on her face excited me far more than her sexy lingerie.

  I cupped her cheek. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

  “I want to fuck.”

  I smiled. “I figured.”

  Sarah placed a finger on my lips. “Shhhh. Listen to me. Earlier this afternoon, while you were in the bookstore”—she rolled her eyes because it was impossible for me to pass a bookstore without stepping inside—“I hopped into a store around the corner and bought something for us. Remember when you said you’d buy me anything my heart desired?”

  I signaled for her to go on.

  “We’ve never used one together, and I thought it’d be fun.”

  “Used what?”

  She bent down. “You’ll see.”

  Before I could ask another question, Sarah stretched her sleek body on top of mine and slipped her tongue into my mouth, greedily. I knew from past experiences that when Sarah was this frisky it was best to go with the flow. Not to mention I would be a fucking moron to turn down a half-naked woman who was grinding into my pussy in a way that meant, “I’m about to rock your world.”

  Her hand slid under my shirt, and she raked her nails down my side.

  I moaned.

  “You like?” she purred, her tongue warm where it licked my earlobe—one of my many weaknesses that she took advantage of. Not that I minded.

  I flipped Sarah carefully onto her back.

  She laughed. “You do like it.”

  I ripped my shirt off and cast it onto the plush hunter-green hotel carpet.

  “I like it when you don’t speak. The strong silent type can be a turn-on.” Sarah prodded my crotch with her hip.

  My fingers sauntered over her skin, lingering briefly on her bra. She’d known for years that I was a sucker for what I called “fuck-me lingerie,” and she wasn’t even wearing one of the items we’d purchased earlier. I was particularly eager to see her in the black Chantilly-lace baby doll slip that had caught my eye in Victoria’s Secret earlier.

  The bra and panties she wore now must have been the ones she’d left the house in. Sarah was a planner, even when we didn’t have plans. It was like she had a sixth sense about fuckathons. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t overly curious to find out what she’d bought earlier. My wife was usually the one who instigated our sexual adventures—wonderful, exciting escapades that only we shared.

  Sarah sat up, encircling my torso in her embrace and peppering my neck with kisses. I slipped my hands around her body to unclasp her bra. As much as I loved it, I wanted to see her—all of her.

  The kiss we shared could only be described as a “slow burn.” It wasn’t the kind to kick our arousal into full speed; its purpose was to show how much we loved each other. Sensually passionate—the type of kiss I replayed in my mind whenever I was away from the love of my life. These were the nights I wished would never end.

  I stroked both of her cheeks and took them in my hands, staring deeply into her eyes.

  “I love it when you look at me like I’m the only woman on the planet who can turn you on.” She nestled her cheek into my right palm.

  “You are. Always.”

  The depth in her eyes seemed endless, like her love. We remained locked in the gaze for several blissful moments, neither of us able to resist the meaning of such a look.

  “I want to show you how beautiful you are,” I murmured.

  Our lips met again, our desire ramping up rapidly. Our touch becoming hungrier, clawing at clothes. Fisting the hair on the back of her head, I guided her mouth to mine, going deeper, wanting to feel the flames sparking from the depths of our souls.

  Sarah fell back onto the bed and elevated her butt to allow me to frantically dispose of her jeans and panties in one swift motion.

  “Fucking hell, you’re gorgeous.” My eyes roved over her nakedness, taking in every curve, freckle, and the slight bulge of her stomach. My fingertips massaged the swell there. Sarah’s arms were up above her head, and whenever I touched her bare skin, her body writhed beneath me.

  I spent more time than usual kissing and licking her abdomen. “You’re amazing.” I rubbed my cheek against her belly. “I can’t believe you are creating life in here.”

  Sarah’s eyes misted. “God, I’m terrified.”

  I moved up to cradle her in my arms. “I’ll be there every step of the way. That may not be comforting, considering… and if you need to cuss me out at times, I totally understand.”

  Laughter rumbled inside her. “Shit. Be careful, giving me permission to do that.” She rapped my head with her knuckles. “Twins will test your limited patience and your need to schedule everything.”

  “Oh, please. You act like everything is always my fault.”

  “Are you saying you’re innocent?”

  “Completely.” I peppered her neck with kisses. Her breath quickened when I took her nipple in my mouth, sucking it gently, feeling its firmness with my teeth. “Is this my fault?”

  “What?” she asked breathily.

  “That I can’t keep my hands or my mouth off you.” My tongue continued to tease her nipple.

  “No, but this is.” Sitting up, she rolled me onto my back on the soft hotel sheet. It must have had a thread count befitting a princess. She mounted me with such fervor that I immediately forgot all about the sheets.

  I was about to add my two cents when her lips capt
ured mine, silencing what probably would have been an inane, not to mention counterintuitive, comment anyway.

  Remember the first rule, Lizzie. When in doubt, stay quiet.

  “Shhh,” she murmured into my ear, as if in tune with my thoughts. “Just enjoy us.”

  She pinned my arms over my head. Clearly, Pilates was paying off. Sarah separated my legs with her hip, gyrating against my pussy, all the while manipulating my right nipple with her tongue. Her hands smoothed up and down the sides of my body, releasing a torrent of goose bumps. Sarah’s touch was akin to saying I love you. No one had ever made me feel the way she made me feel. Not ever.

  “I’m going to let go of your arms, but leave them where they are. I want to be in control. Complete and total control.” The hunger in her eyes initiated a tremor in me and made me nod in agreement.

  “Good. Maybe you are trainable.” Sarah straddled my mid-section, her fingers trekking over my skin. Judging by the crooked upward twist of her lips, she got off on watching me squirm with anticipation. After several minutes of this treatment, I lurched up to kiss her, but my wife, who was slightly smaller than I was, manhandled me back to the mattress.

  “I told you not to move. Enjoy.”

  “I enjoy touching you,” I grumbled playfully.

  “And you will. Soon. Not now.” She indicated for me to lift my ass so she could do away with my blue-and-white-striped pajama bottoms.

  Her tongue took over for her fingers, tasting and exploring my neck, collarbone, breasts, nipples, ticklish sides, and the hypersensitive skin below my belly button.

  The intensity of my need accelerated. My eyes closed, my breaths coming in rasps that excited us both.

  Sarah shifted her weight—and her tongue—further down my body.

  If it was possible to taste desire, I was gulping in delicious mouthfuls.

  Part of me hoped she’d bypass the area dripping in anticipation to explore my lower extremities, but the other part didn’t think I could hold on much longer.

  I needed Sarah to make love to me. The buildup was becoming painful, delightfully so, but still painful. I chanted in my head: Good things come to those who wait.

  “You look like you’re about to erupt.” She skimmed a finger over my wetness.