Page 67 of Bar Down Baby!
“No,” I admitted. Unfortunately, the audio erotica couldn’t hold a candle to the inferno blazing in my core at just two of Barry’s fingers. What was hisdickgoing to do to me?
I reached for said dick, nearly shivering when I got the warm rod in my hand. I stroked it a few times, reveling in the slippery wetness at the tip.
“You’rewet,” I told him. “Leaking all over my hand.”
“Who taught you to talk like that?” he asked, and his cock grew harder, another bead of pre-cum joining the mess I rubbed around his head. He pressed another finger into me in return, stretching me deliciously. I bit his lower lip as I moaned. “You’re gonna kill me with these sounds.”
“Will you fuck me first? Please?”
“Well, when you ask so nicely.” Barry turned me on my side and lifted my top leg up before kneeling until his dick was right next to my cunt, my leg now wrapped around his side. I thought he would tease me more, make me beg and curse, but to my delight, he wasted no time before sliding his cock into me, sinking fully immediately, and I moaned so long and loud I thought I might come immediately.
I’d forgotten how damn good his dick was, how good it feltfilling me, how good he was at using it. I reached up and touched his abs, all tensed as he fucked me, then held onto his thick forearms. He was so sturdy, every part of him ready to be leaned on, so eager to be the support I was adamant I didn’t need. Even in this—orgasms now added to the list of ways he wanted to be helpful in my life.
His fingers found their way to my clit again, and the combination of his dick in me and his hand on me made my toes clench. I don’t know what it was about being pregnant that made sex feel so insanely good, but I couldn’t remember a time in my life when my body was so sensitive, so responsive to touch. I had chills at the feel of his wide hand kneading my ass and groaned every time he thrust harder.
“You are the hottest woman alive,” he said.
I didn’t dispute this, not when his face was screwed up in desperation while he slid in and out of me, one hand holding me tight and the other feverishly trying to make me come.
When I did, it surprised us both, the orgasm intense with all the pent-up desire, a relief as it racketed through me.
“You got so tight, baby,” Barry choked out, then moaned loud, his hips rocking erratically against me, filling me with his release while I came down from the best orgasm I’d had since summer.
He caught his breath after, his hips lightly rocking inside me for a minute longer before pulling out and lying down, facing me. Still a bit winded, he met my eyes and after a second, we both laughed. He didn’t need to say it was as intense for him as it was for me.
Barry put his hands on either side of my head and kissed me again, a long one that left me feeling even more gooey and relaxed.
“Your bed is comfy,” he said while he pulled me as close to him as he was able with my belly between us. He rubbed a hand over the side of it, our little growing life brimming underneath his palm.
“It was like two hundred dollars, don’t lie.” It was fine, comfortable enough, but nothing to write home about by any means.
“Best two-hundred-dollar bed ever,” he murmured and closed his eyes. I wanted to clean up the cum still wet between my thighs, but it was so nice lying in his arms, smelling him so closely, I didn’t want to get up just yet.
The baby kicked, her foot bumping under his hand. Barry smiled and tapped the spot with his thumb.
“Hi little baby,” he said in greeting. Kate said the baby can hear sounds outside of the womb as of a couple weeks before, and the thought made me happy.
“Hi, baby,” I said, too, and let myself drift off for a few happy minutes before Barry pulled us both out of the bed to get cleaned up.
CHAPTER 21
THE ROAD TRIP
Because the world is cruel, after our night of This Means Nothing Sex (multiple times, all of which ending with cuddling, all of which still meaning nothing), I had to work. Barry insisted on driving me to the practice facility, muttering about it being too cold for the bus, not good for me or the baby. He did a light workout while I cleaned, coming to find me every thirty minutes or so to follow me around and talk about anything and nothing. This had become a routine when he wasn’t traveling, bringing me to work even when I swore I was fine to make it there on my own, and hanging out while I cleaned.
Sometimes he came inside and slept on the couch in the lounge, his long body folded up with his hood over his head. Other times he’d go back home to sleep a few more hours, always back to pick me up either with breakfast in hand or to take me to the diner.
I could admit that I was grateful I didn’t have to take the early bus and felt less bad for his early mornings after how many times he insisted that he really wanted to do it. At the end of my shift, I looked around for him, not finding him in the lounge of the gym. Tara, the woman who came to clean and do maintenance on the pool and hot tubs a few days a week, found me looking for him and nodded in the direction of the ice.
I walked—okay it was more of a waddle these days—to the large window looking out at the ice and saw Barry with a stick and a bucket of pucks that he shot intermittently into the net as he skated around.
“That boy has it bad for you,” Tara said at my side, both of us watching him skate an easy lap in sweatpants and a hoodie.
“He does not,” I denied, but I could see it too. It scared me more than the baby coming in less than two months—his surety that he would still want me after she came.
There’s a whole lot of after ahead of us.
“He’ll be a good dad to that baby,” Tara said. A smile tugged up my lips and I nodded. That I had no doubt of. “And he could be a good Daddy to you if you let him.”
