"Oh-kay."
"I feel ... fuck," I said, curling my hands into fists. "Anxious. Yeah, god. It's horrible. What is that about?"
"If it helps, I'm nervous too."
I paused. "You are? What on earth about?"
"Well, pregnancy changes your body, Eric." She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. "My breasts aren't as firm as they used to be, for starters."
"Maybe, but they're still breasts. All breasts are great, Jean. Take it from a connoisseur."
"Right," she said.
"What else?"
"I've heard about some of the women you've slept with in the past. They sound like runway models, half of them." She shook her head. "And I am very much not a runway model. My belly is kind of a little weird and wobbly now. Not to mention my Frankenstein scar down below."
"I know Ada can be a handful at times, but saying a monster came out of you is a little harsh," I joked.
"Ha. I'm being serious."
"Okay, yes. Sorry. I get that." But seriously, like any of that mattered. The woman was nuts.
"Plus, I've obviously got some experience, but not as much as you. What if I suck in bed?"
"Huh," I said, realization dawning.
"What is 'huh'?"
"So this is normal for most people," I said, crossing my arms. "Worrying about your body and your performance and all that shit."
She thought about it for a moment. "Yes, pretty much. Performance anxiety, insecurity about bodily bits, fears of inadequacy in general, all of those sorts of things. I mean, you want to be enough for the person you're into. Hell, you want them to think that you're awesome in all the ways and worth the effort. You want to please them. And be pleased in return, of course."
"Jesus," I said, pacing once more. "It's fucking debilitating. How do you deal with it?"
"I can't talk for everyone, but I just try to put it aside and concentrate on the moment," she said. "I mean, at least it means you care. It's not all a sign of something bad."
I wasn't so sure about that. What if worrying about your performance actually impacted your performance? There was a serious issue here.
"I've known guys who basically ignore you in bed."
"Idiots."
"You're just reduced to being a vagina and a pair of breasts. Body parts for their entertainment," she said. "They're usually the kind of dicks who say they don't like the taste."
"Are you serious?"
"Nope."
"What useless sacks of shit."
"One sad sack I met wanted to debate whether the female orgasm is a myth or not," she said. "While we were in bed."
I hung my head. "Oh, man."
"Indeed." She half smiled. "But we were doing something before this discussion derailed us."
"Right. Yeah. Okay." I clapped my hands, rubbed them together. I just had to get my head back in the game. Get the mood back somehow. "How do you want to do this?"
"What if I give you something else to focus on?"
"Sounds good. What have you got?"
In response, she peeled off her top and tossed it aside. Then she immediately covered her belly with her arms, leaving her skinny jeans and siren-red bra on display.
"Okay, I did it," she said, speaking more to herself than to me.
"You certainly did."
"Your turn."
I kneeled in front of her, my gaze hooked by the promise of that bra. Trailing fingers softly back and forth along her arms, leaving gooseflesh in their wake. I licked my lips. So much soft, bare skin calling to me. I'd dearly love to make a feast of the woman.
Then she clicked her fingers in front of my face. "Eric, take off your shirt, please."
I ripped it off straight over my head, catching it on my ponytail for a second. Damn hair. Apparently the sight of me pleased her, because she stopped worrying about hiding her belly and started touching me instead. Fingers stroking over my shoulders and up my neck.
"God, you're gorgeous," she hummed, moving closer.
Jean slid off the couch and into me, forcing me back. It required some hasty work, but somehow by pushing aside Ada's jungle gym, blanket, and the coffee table, we found enough room to make out on the rug. With me on my back and Jean straddling my hips, the world was simply awesome. Christ, the sight of her red silk-covered tits and eager hands. Not that I was slacking off in the feeling her up category. She pressed her mouth to mine, her body to mine, and my mind was blown. The long line of her back and slender column of her neck. Her lips and tongue and everything.
Any earlier uneasiness, all of those bad thoughts, they were chased far away.
"Pants are the worst," she murmured, rocking against me.
Fuck, it felt amazing. "Absolutely."
"But we should probably take it slow."
"Whatever you want," I panted. "But what about the bra?"
Hands set beside my head, she eased back a bit. "I did say naked from the waist up."
"You did."
She exhaled softly. "Go for it."
"Yes!"
My experienced fingers got rid of that red bra in no time and then there she was. Perfect brown nipples. The woman was all sweet curves. She fit into my hands just right.
"I'm sorry you feel they let you down when it came to breast-feeding," I said. "But they are absolutely beautiful."
Smiling, she leaned down to kiss me again. If red silk had been fine against my chest, hard nipples and soft skin were even better. I couldn't even remember the last time I'd been this excited about just making out and reachin
g second base. Though I guess second base was really just copping a feel, while we were both half naked rolling around on the floor. So second base with a hint of stealing third maybe. We'd reversed positions, Jean under me, her legs wrapped around my hips. By the time we finally made it into a bed, we'd have dry-humping down to an art form.
"I can feel you," she whispered.
"This does not surprise me." I kissed a path up her neck, nibbling on her ear. "Pretty sure I'm about to break the damn fly on my pants."
She laughed, her hands running down my sides. But then she got serious. "Do you mind, taking it in stages?"
"No. I am perfectly happy right where I am."
"Good."
Our kisses got messier, longer, and deeper. My stubble scratched lightly across her soft skin. I wanted to explore every inch of her. Find out what made her sigh and what made her squirm and laugh. I'd happily worship her tits for hours. Kissing and licking them made her hips buck and there was every chance I'd die of the world's biggest hard-on. Because of course my dick ached to be inside of her. But this was all about what made Jean happy.
I could wait. I would wait.
God only knows how long we made out on the floor. Time did not exist. But Ada most certainly did and eventually she woke up wanting her late-night feeding.
"The books say you can start thinking about weaning her off the middle of the night feeding at four to six months."
"You're still reading the books?" asked Jean, hunting around. "Do you see my bra anywhere?"
"By the bear, and here's your top."
"Thanks."
"Yeah, I just ... I'm interested in her development, you know?"
"I think it's sweet. You two are like buddies." She got her bra back on, a huge grin on her face. "That was some good clean adult fun, though."
"Maybe next time we can move onto having some good dirty adult fun," I suggested, pulling my shirt back on. "If you're ready."
"Oh, I think we're definitely ready for third base," she said as Ada increased the volume on her wailing. "Coming, baby."
"Pants are the worst." I gave her a quick kiss, then made for the door. "I better get home, hit the shower."
She made a little noise in her throat. "I know exactly what you're going to do in that shower. You disgust me. I wish I could watch."
"Another time." I grinned. "Good night, my friend."
"'Night."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Later in the week, we hadn't yet made it to third base. Mostly due to Ada deciding to be an overachiever and start teething early. Maybe she was making up for not smiling on time. I'd told her the books said she had another couple of months to go before she hit that stage, but the baby didn't listen to science and reason. So two nights ago, I'd done an emergency run to Walgreens to fetch teething gel and a teething-ring thing. With Nell getting more pregnant by the day, it was easier for me to run errands for Jean and I didn't mind. Hell, I loved being the person she asked for help. Being the person she relied on, someone she trusted, felt damn good. And it was way easier for me to go grab stuff than for her to load up the baby and the car at some crazy hour.