Off the Field: Bad Boy Sports Romance (28 page)

“I can try. But first…”

He reached over and touched my pussy for the first time in ages. I missed the sensation of his fingers caressing me. As he touched my tender lips with his fingertips, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. All the stress and anxiety floated away as he gently fingered me.

“Can we put a pillow under my butt to lift me up, maybe?”

“Is that going to be comfortable?”

“I don’t know,” I snapped. “I’m sorry I’m so irritable.”

“It’s okay. We can stop.”

“No. You’re hard, and I want it inside me so I can induce labor.”

“It doesn’t help all the time,” he said.

“You’re not backing out, are you?”

“No, but I don’t want you to think I have a magic cock or something.”

I laughed and smiled. “Come here, you.”

Awkwardly, he positioned himself between my legs and tried his best to shove a pillow underneath me. I couldn’t lift myself high enough, which caused me to cry.

“None of that,” he said. “I’m going to lose my erection. Let me just…”

A moment later, I felt the tip of his dick slide against my wet pussy lips. He held himself up with one hand as he bent and twisted to slide it all the way in. While I was slightly uncomfortable, the sensation of his hard cock inside me turned me on. I looked into his eyes as he slowly slid out then back in quickly. I moved slightly to give him better access, which he used to his advantage.

I forgot about the pain as he plunged in and out of me. As the friction built up, he slowed down, drawing out the pleasure for an even bigger orgasm for both of us. We found a rhythm which replaced the mechanical motions we’d been making at first. While it wasn’t the best sex we’d ever had, it wasn’t the worst either. In some ways, it made me think of the sex we’d be having the rest of our lives.

The thought of spending the rest of my life with Steven and having his baby turned me on as pleasure spread through my body, building up to a fever pitch. My bare chest rose and fell quicker as I got even more excited. I was perched on the edge, unable to go any further. While I wanted him to fuck me harder, I was hesitant because of the baby.

His face contorted as he got closer himself, which also edged me toward my own orgasm. All of a sudden, he grunted and thrust deep into my pussy. I could feel his cock throb inside me. As he came, my own orgasm hit. I cried out as I tightened around him. He pulled out quickly and sat up, looking at me like he’d hurt me.

“Are you okay?”

“Fuck yes,” I moaned, still breathing heavy. “I think this baby is coming.” I laughed. “No pun. Honest. Take me to the room and call the doctor.”

He helped me out of bed and into a wheelchair we had waiting in the wings. He’d thought of everything, which was just one of the reasons I loved him. In the room we’d designed for the birth, I felt as if I was in a real hospital for a moment. When the doctor and three nurses walked in, I realized it was much better than being somewhere else.

Building the room had cost quite a bit of money, but Steven had more than enough. They gave me drugs that helped manage the pain – a little. In that miracle of birth, I struggled to push my baby through my vagina, something I’d never thought would be possible. I had studied up on pregnancies, but until you go through the experience yourself, you do not know.

Steven had been through the process before, so he was actually a big help by shutting up and just being there for me. He didn’t pretend he could help or do anything to make it easier on me. And yet seeing him standing in the room calmed me. Don’t get me wrong, the drugs did most of the work, but his presence was an added bonus as I struggled with my first birth.

Ethan John Cary was born into the world in a position many would envy. If not the money he would inherit someday then the love Steven and I would lavish on him and the other two children as we raised them. When the doctor raised him up into the air and declared he was a boy, I couldn’t stop smiling. My husband was ecstatic as well, even though he’d been through it all before.

“You never get accustomed to the miracle of birth,” he noted as he sat in a chair next to my bed.

I looked down at Ethan nestled in my arms and silently promised to do my best when raising him. No longer did I have the luxury of being selfish. Steven looked from his son to me. We made eye contact. I didn’t want to turn away. He was trying, unsuccessfully, to mask his emotions. His eyes were more alive than I’d seen them in a long while. I continued to smile at him while cradling my baby.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Soon after I gave birth, Steven quit working and spent all his time with me and our three children. George and Anne were mine even if I hadn’t given birth to them. They deserved the love I gave them as a mother. To my surprise, the wealthy lifestyle didn’t smother me as much as I feared it might. Every day with my family was a blessing. We had our ups and downs, like all families, but we worked well together and went out of our way to communicate. And that led to our happiness for the rest of our lives.

Every once in a while I thought back to that crazy year when I left Maine and tried to make it to California, but as time passed I had to draw on those memories and experiences less and less. Steven and the children filled my mind with new experiences I wanted to remember, ones that were a lot more special and precious to me. I’d never change what I’d done in my past – those crazy days – but I was happy with the way I’d turned out in the end.

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