“Only the best for my family.” Tristan smiles proudly with his hands on his hips. “Anyone leave any shoes at the front door and it’s go time,” he adds.
The removalists carry the first piece of furniture up the front lawn. “Where do you want this?”
“Upstairs.” He takes the stairs two at a time like an excited little kid. “This way.”
“The baby is now the size of a large cantaloupe,” Tristan calls, he’s deep in concentration, lying on the couch with his feet up over the back of it.
Fletcher rolls his eyes at me as I toss the salad.
“Really?” I call.
“Yeah, and did you know that it can now distinguish voices and sounds?”
“Really?” I call again as I smile, I did know that but I’ll let him tell me.
“So we better start talking more to her, boys,” he calls again.
“Why do you keep calling it a her?” I ask.
“I have a feeling,” he calls back. “So everyone start talking to Mom’s stomach more.”
Harry walks through the kitchen, he bends down to my stomach in an overexaggerated way. “Your father is annoying,” he tells it.
I giggle and cup Harry’s face. “Little bit.”
“I heard that,” Tristan calls again.
Tristan Miles has a new hobby, reading pregnancy books out loud to us all, telling us random facts that we really don’t need to know.
He is studying all things baby.
“We’re going, Mom,” Fletcher says.
“What time will you be back?”
“A few hours.”
“Okay.” I smile, Harrison has basketball practice and Fletcher wants to take him, it seems Fletch is a bit sweet on the assistant coach. Trinity College has been a godsend for Harry. He’s in the debating and basketball team, he has a heap of new friends and apparently a hot assistant basketball coach.
“Bye Tris,” they call as they head out the door.
“Drive carefully,” he calls back.
We hear the car start and pull away and I smile, I give it five minutes.
I feel two hands slink around my waist from behind and I giggle. “Five seconds?”
“What is?” He kisses me softly, the need behind his lips is as clear as day.
“I said to myself that I give it five minutes until you are out here with me and it was five seconds instead.”
He kisses me deeper, his tongue sliding against mine, my man is hungry…and not for the salad I’m making.
“What do you want, Daddy?” I smile against his lips.
He puts his two hands on the sides of my stomach. “Cover your ears,” he tells the baby before kissing me again. “Daddy needs to fuck,” he breathes.
I giggle, good lord, we cannot get enough of each other. Every chance we get we are at it like rabbits.
He is obsessed with my body as it changes.
He moves his hand up my thigh and slips his fingers into my panties, he slides his fingers through my wet flesh and inhales sharply. “You need to be punished.” He pushes a finger deep inside me and I clench around him. “I do.” He pumps me with it and I spread my legs a little to give him greater access.
“Get to bed,” he growls.
“Patrick is going to be home any minute.”
“Then fucking hurry up,” he snaps, he grabs my hand and pulls me up the stairs and marches me down the hallway to our bedroom, once inside he flicks the lock and turns toward me.
We stare at each other, so much magic between us and yet when we are like this, only one thing matters.
Touch.
He goes to take my dress off over my head.
“We don’t have time for that,” I snap. “Just fuck me.”
He bends and takes my panties off and then points to the bed. “Get on your hands and knees.”
Excitement runs through me and I kneel on the side of the bed.
His fingers run through my flesh and he lets out a low whistle. “You have no fucking idea how hot you are like this.”
I giggle and then he grabs my hip bones and slams in hard, knocking the air from my lungs, holding himself deep.
My body ripples around him as it adjusts to his size.
In the beginning of my pregnancy Tristan was scared he was going to hurt the baby, but now…now he’s back to his bad boy self and I fucking love it.
He fucks me, deep and hard, and I can feel every vein on his thick engorged length as it hits just the right spot.
A car pulls up out the front. “Patrick is home.”
“Fuck it.” He pumps me harder, fast and furious. Chasing the release that we both need.
“So good,” I breathe.
He pushes my shoulders down to the bed with his hands and the change in position sends me spiraling headfirst into a killer of an orgasm, I moan into the mattress and he slams once…
Twice.
Three times, and holds himself deep as he comes into my body.
The front door slams shut. “Tristan, Mom?” Patrick calls from downstairs.
“Fuck it.” He pulls out and quickly kisses my behind and then slaps it. “Got to go.” He puts his shorts on and runs to the door and disappears. “Coming, buddy,” he calls as I hear him run down the stairs. “How was it?”
He knows that if he doesn’t go find Patrick, Patrick will come looking for us.
He’s giving me time to get myself together.
I smile into my pillow, my heart is still racing, my body quivering all over.
I need all the time.
Orgasmic relaxation is beginning to float in.
I’m taking a nap.
Tristan sits on the floor as he reads the instructions again. “No. that doesn’t make sense.”
“Give me that.” Harry snatches the instructions from him.
“I’m telling you that the wheels go on first,” Fletcher replies.
“Who wrote these instructions anyway?” Tristan huffs. “I’m sick of these idiots who can’t write instructions.”
“Maybe the people who can’t read them are the idiots.” I widen my eyes.
He fakes a smile and then drops his face deadpan.
Patrick holds up the bag of screws as he inspects them.
“Don’t lose those, Tricky.”
I watch from the rocking chair in the corner, the boys are in the nursery attempting to build the pram.
Attempting being the key word.
They built the cradle yesterday and the cot this morning, but this stroller has got them stumped.
“Are there any more instructions?” Tristan asks, distracted. “Surely that can’t be it.”
“When I get a hold of this guy,” Harry fumes, he punches his fist for added effect.
“Maybe we got some in that other envelope, I’ll go look.” I walk down to my bedroom and grab the paperwork and walk back to the nursery. “Here try this.” I pass it to Tristan.
He begins reading and frowns. “What’s this?”
“It’s the court papers.”
“For what?”
“For the adoption hearing.”
His eyes rise to meet mine.
“It’s time,” I whisper.
The boys gasp.
He blinks back tears. “What?”
“I want you to be the boy’s father.” I smile hopefully. “Legally. Before the baby comes.”