Shopping for a CEO's Baby (Shopping for a Billionaire Series Book 16), стр. 21
“I don't need to prove myself to anyone but me.”
Only a double blink shows me I’ve gotten to him.
“I think it's a strong decision to delay the trust breaking. Prevents future generations from spending your hard-earned money in foolish ways. Keeps the McCormick family on top for a long time,” I continue, feeding his ego. Moving him away from specific discussions about my wife and children is the goal here.
Not dominance.
Distraction.
“Good to see you come around,” he says after another bite of steak. I ignore the ridiculous barb and focus on my food. Amanda's finally out of morning sickness, so I can eat whatever I want in front of her, but the Brussels sprouts might still be a bit much.
This is good. Not as good as Consuela's meals, but damn close.
We finish our food, lifting the napkins from our laps at the same time, sharing a small smile that feels like a truce. Dad stands, looks at his watch, and makes the most basic of gestures indicating he's choosing to leave me.
I stand, too. He offers his hand to shake and I take it. Grip strength isn't a measure of a man, but it can be a measure of health, and his is weaker over time.
His strength is waning.
He mentioned his age earlier.
And speaking of health...
“By the way, good call on Pam,” I say to him, prolonging his exit for reasons I don't understand.
“Pam?”
“Amanda told me you're the one who suspected Lyme disease in her.”
“Oh. That.” He waves his hand dismissively. “It made more sense than fibromyalgia. All she needed was a special blood test. I just encouraged her.”
“You did more than that, Dad.”
His hand is still in mine and he pauses, not letting go. “Thank you, son. Pam's a special woman. Any way I can help matters.” He finally lets go, straightens the lapels of his suit, and cocks one eyebrow. “You take care of Amanda, and I'll take care of her mother.”
“Will do.”
“And we will take care of my grandsons,” he says with an unsmiling wink.
With that, he leaves.
And all I can think about is whether Amanda's torso is long.
9
Amanda
I open my eyes, the words running through my head before I'm fully awake.
Twenty-three weeks, three days.
That's my first thought.
The second is: I need to hump my husband.
Some impulse centers itself between my legs, turning me into a rocking nerve ending, my entire body so horny, it's like some gene in me got flipped and my entire purpose in life is to orgasm in a continuous loop.
“Help,” I whisper to Andrew as I slide my bare thigh against his hair-covered one, his body gloriously nude, which only ratchets up my sex-crazed fever.
“What's wrong?”
“I need you to let me have sex with you again.”
One eye narrows, the other holding steady as I reach for him, finding him halfway to where I need him.
“Excuse me?”
“Can I please have sex with you again? I know we just did it–” I look at the clock, squinting to read the numbers, “–seven hours ago, but I–”
The kiss answers me.
“You don't have to ask.”
“Of course I do! Consent is very important.”
His erection twitches in my hand, jumping slightly.
“There's my consent.”
This isn't slow sex. It's fast and hard, the kisses hot, my legs parted and my body centered over him in seconds. The grinding need to have him touch the deep ache inside and unclench it is too furious, too intense to ignore.
I'm bent over him, hips rolling up, belly hardening with each curl as I ride, ride, ride to climax. My thighs pull him in deeper, knees pressing against his tight ass, my hands on his chest, his head bobbing up to suck one breast at the perfect moment of ecstasy, making me moan into eternity.
And then–snap. I'm done.
I climb off and kiss his cheek.
“Thank you!”
“That's it?”
“That's it. Why? Do you want more?”
“Of course, I want more.”
“Now?” I look at the time. “Because I have forty-four minutes to make it downtown for a meeting.”
“No, not now, but...” He frowns. “Is this the magic second trimester the guys always talk about?”
“The guys?”
“Vince. Dec. Gerald.”
“You talk about our sex life with them?”
“What? No.” He avoids eye contact. “We talk about pregnancy. Suzanne's due around the same time as you. A few weeks behind.”
“Yeah, no kidding. We sure do know that. Maybe you could be her doula now that you've seen her half naked in the bathroom.”
“Hey! That was an honest mistake,” he grumbles.
“You're lucky you don't have an honest shiner from Gerald.”
“I'd have deserved it.”
Andrew reaches for my hand, pulling me back to the bed, hand on my belly.
“I love this. You're so full and hard.”
“That's my line, bud.”
Resonant, rich laughter, full of a happiness I've never heard from him before, fills the air.
“I love you.” He kisses my belly. “And I love them.”
“I love you, too.” I reach down and wrap my hands under his chin, cradling his face, the morning beard growth prickly and real. “I am so lucky to spend my life with you.”
“I'm the lucky one. I never would have guessed I'd end up with a wife who asked permission to have more sex with me.”
That stirring starts between my legs. I close my eyes. He chuckles, a deep sound that tells me he's reading my mind.
And then he pulls back the covers, spreading his nude body out on the mussed sheets, and says:
“At your service.”
10
Andrew
“You guys weren't kidding about the second trimester,” I say as I curl sixties, barely making it through eight, going slower on the release. Vince watches my form like he's just eaten a bad pistachio.
“Right?” Declan's eyes go distant. “It's basically the reason I can't wait to have another one.”
“Basically..?”
He shrugs. “If the second trimester is the holy grail, the first year after the baby is born is the Sahara desert, bro.”
Gerald chokes on the protein gel packet he's sucking down. We look at each other, the shared anticipatory pain a bonding moment.
“You guys make me