There’s no warning before his big hand comes down. Ow. “One.” I bite my lip so as not to yell. “Two.” Sonofabitch, my ass is already burning. “Three.” What the hell was I thinking asking for twelve? “Four.” Okay, maybe he was madder than he let on. “Five.” Oh, there it is the sweet spot when the pain becomes so intense it mingles with pleasure. “Six.” It’s a moan as my pussy begins to work in time with the smack. “Seven.” I want to beg for it to come faster. “Eight.” So good. “Nine.” I need him to fuck me right now. “Ten.” Faster, my pussy works to ride the wave of pain. “Eleven.” Yes, oh, oh fuck yes. “Twelve.” I pant.
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Chris flips me over onto my back and I welcome his roughness, hungry for him to take me over. His wicked smile shows me both dimples as he pushes down his jeans. When he goes to the bedside table I shiver in anticipation. He’d threatened it before, and now he’s making good. He pulls out the vibrator, lubing it up. I tremble in anticipation, as I cup my breasts, playing with my tight nipples while his eyes roam over me in approval.
Rough hands grab around my ankles, pulling me to the edge of the bed then up his body. Oh god, he’s lubing his cock. Wait, oh so good, Chris pushes into my ass with a fierce stroke that sends him deep inside me. With the skin of my ass still on fire, the world blurs for a moment at the combined pain inside and out. I gasp when I feel the vibrator push inside my pussy as deep as it can go. Oh my fucking god.
“Ah, sugar, I am your fucking god. You like it, Amelia. You love it, my cock in your ass, the vibrator in your pussy. Hold on, we’re just getting started.”
I arch off the bed as he turns on the vibrator, then holds it in place as he fucks my ass leisurely, as if he has all damn day. This isn’t good, this isn’t amazing, this is awe-fucking inspiring. I sob as he turns off the vibrator then pounds my ass for so long I’m close to my orgasm, so close, then he stops and I scream.
“That’s it, scream for me.” He chuckles as he goes still then begins fucking the vibrator in and out of me slowly, teasing me with it. He’s keeping me on the knife’s edge. I can’t, I need it. A press of the button and it hums low inside me as he keeps fucking me slowly with it. Then he begins thrusting inside me, faster and faster. Groaning my name, he presses another button, increasing the hum sending my back off the bed, trying to impale myself on him. Harder, rougher, so much more.
I explode with a scream, and from far away I hear Chris groan my name. The molten heat of him coming shocks my body, causing bone-wracking shudders through me, turning the world black.
22
Amelia
I’m in the library trying to settle into a book, but I can’t focus. It was a rough month for April, the weather was shit in Chicago and throughout the Midwest. There haven’t been so many games postponed in over a decade. May is slowly looking better. While Chris spent more time in Chicago, which was nice, and he’ll be home for an eight-day stretch when he gets back from St. Louis in two days, he’ll have to play eleven games in ten days by the end of the month. Then to top it off we had the kitchen remodel while he was stuck inside. For three days we didn’t have a sink or stove yet he never got cranky. We ate out a lot, we hid in the bedroom and we made love often. I never thought the remodel would go fast and so smoothly but it’s done.
He left yesterday to play in St. Louis tonight. I wanted to go with him, but Holly is due any day and I don’t want to be away from her and Ethan. Even though he wasn’t happy, Chris understood.
I consider calling Catherine to check on her. Talking to her is so much fun, every time she has something different to tell me about Chris when he was younger. Her love for him is so clear. It was really disappointing when she canceled her visit to Phoenix because of the death of her best friend the day before she was due to fly out. However, she promised Chris with her friend passing there wasn’t really much left for her in Dallas, and once the season was over she would be happy to move to Chicago. The plan is for her to come out and visit in the first week of June when Chris will be in town. We’ll make plans then for her moving up.
I’m fighting the urge not to go check on the men working in the backyard again. I was shocked when I woke up two weeks ago to jackhammers. For some crazy reason I thought it was our kitchen remodel hitting a snag. And they knew not to start working before ten o’clock it was completely rude and we would look like the asshole who hired them to start before ten in the morning. Chris laughed and said sorry, but if I wanted a pool there was a price to pay. I’d run downstairs to look out the back door and see them tearing up our backyard.
Chris had purchased the house behind us, so he could have enough room for an in-ground heated pool to be built with a large glass enclosure, with doors like the ones leading out to the backyard in the house we rented in Scottsdale.
When he showed me the plans, I had a hard time not crying. Then he hugged me close as he whispered he loved seeing me happy playing in the pool in Arizona. He didn’t want to go another day without seeing me that happy again. I’m still stunned he bought a million-dollar house just for the backyard. When I asked him what he was going to do with the house, he said if Catherine liked it then it would be hers, and if not then he would figure it out later.
I couldn’t hold back my tears. They didn’t last long, though, when Chris asked if it had earned him getting his cock sucked on a daily basis. Laughing, I told him it did as I led him back upstairs and pushed him down to deliver. It was like Regina said, Chris was willing to give me anything I wanted, even when I didn’t ask for it. Would that include his heart, and forever?
The doorbell rings, startling me. I look down at Chris’s oversized shirt I’m wearing to keep him close while he’s away and my yoga pants. I’m not wearing a bra though. Peeking out the door I see it’s a woman holding a baby carrier. It’s cool out today. I whip open the door, not wanting her or the baby to get cold.
She’s very pretty, small, curvy; she appears Hispanic, her dark black hair in a pixie cut. The baby is tightly covered with a blanket. “You Amelia Bishop.”
It’s not a question, but I nod anyway. “Yes?”
“This is Simone Baldwin. She’s Chris’s baby. He needs to step up to his responsibilities. You all can see what it’s like taking care of a baby with no help. You all got a week, take that time, do your stupid little tests, then you all decide. I’m getting my money. You all want to keep her, it’s fine with me, but there’s a price and it’s high. You don’t want to keep her, then you all will be paying for it for the next eighteen years while she gets the life she shoulda got.” She sets the baby inside the doorway, then walks away without another word.
Baby? Chris’s baby? What the fuck? I clutch my stomach as it spins hard. The world blurs at the tears from the pain that spreads through my entire body. The carrier moves, and a weak cry comes from beneath the covers. I’m down on my knees, carefully pulling the blanket away. Bright blue eyes stare up at me through long lashes, no, then I take in her chin and the dimple in one cheek. It’s Chris’s. He has a baby.
A gust of wind blows through the open door, and the baby shivers. On autopilot I close the door then pick up the carrier, taking it into the office and putting it on the ottoman. Aren’t babies supposed to be happier or fussier? She’s just sitting in the carrier, looking at me as if she’s trying to figure out who I am. She doesn’t look like she expects to be picked up, although she doesn’t really look happy in the carrier.
I’ve never really been a baby person for the simple reason I wasn’t around them very much. Since I started working with the legal clinic over the last two years I’ve had more interaction with them, and I found out I adore holding babies, the chunkier the better. Their soft little bodies snuggling up to you, the smell of them, the feel of their downy soft hair. The gummy little smiles they give you when you tell them how cute they are.
This baby..., Simone, her name is Simone. Simone isn’t smiling, she isn’t chubby. I remember vividly one woman I helped in the legal clinic saying she didn’t trust mothers who didn’t have chubby, happy babies. All babies should be chubby, then as they moved around and got older the baby fat fell away, she explained at my surprise. Simone is pretty darn thin, and she definitely doesn’t look happy. Unease builds inside me as I study her.
An urge I can’t suppress has me reaching out to touch her cheek. She flinches, and my stomach turns. No, no fucking way did she flinch from a touch. As I process the meaning behind the movement, tears flow fast and hard. The pretty woman had hard, empty eyes. Her casual way of saying we could keep Simone haunts me, as if the baby was nothing more than an item to be bartered instead of a living, breathing hum
an being.
I snatch my phone up, but I don’t call Chris, I don’t call Holly, or even Ethan. I call Angie, the stripper, who took me under her wing the night in the club. It’s only two in the afternoon, and she answers right away. “Hey, Amelia, how are you doing?”
My eyes on the baby, I swallow. “I’ve been better. I was wondering, Chris mentioned an incident with a stripper, I have to assume it was at your club. He said she tried to set up him up to get her pregnant. Do you know anything about that?”
She sighs. “Yeah, that’s Triana, Triana isn’t her real name though, it’s Theresa Kirby. She came out to Chicago from, I think, Laurel Park, Maryland with a boyfriend who promised her the world then dumped her when she got knocked up. After the abortion she ended up here, trying to get enough money to go home.” I’m up grabbing a pen and a notebook and taking notes. “The thing she pulled with Chris wasn’t the first time she did it. Another stripper, Candice, pulled it once on a basketball player, get yourself knocked up then make them pay for the abortion. It got Candice fired.