Chapter 34 Parker
PARKER
For the next three days, life was nonstop.
I had a doctor’s appointment the day after Beckham brought Tex home—one of many before the baby’s due date in two months.
After that, Beckham spent all day reinforcing the fencing around his property to ensure Tex couldn’t get out.
I spent as much time with Tex as I could in between all the craziness, soaking in these last moments before the baby came.
The next day, we started painting the room that would soon be the nursery. Beckham had somehow found my Pinterest board full of ideas and insisted on doing the intricate accent wall I’d liked the most. I’d have been fine with something simple, but he wanted me to have everything I dreamed of.
But the real dream wasn’t the room or the furniture or the planning.
It was watching him stress over covering a nail hole so the wall would be perfect.
It was the paint on his shirt and the brush he sometimes held between his teeth.
Life with Beckham was the dream. And here I was, living it. The sense of awe never seemed to leave.
Today was Sunday, another day to visit Ellis.
It had been my second time seeing her, and we’d brought over more food than the three of us could eat to celebrate Christmas together.
Beckham got her a new thriller novel, and I had no doubt she was curled up on the couch right now with her nose in that book.
When we got home, before I’d even made it out of the truck, Beckham kissed me, pulling me into his arms cradle-style so I had no choice but to hold onto his neck.
My growing belly made it hard to do certain things, and him holding me was one of them.
I loved being pregnant and having this time with just me and my baby, but I wanted to do so much more than navigate what was comfortable.
He barely kicked the door to the truck, and the telltale sound of it firmly shutting was nowhere to be heard.
“Beck, the door,” I whispered, like someone might hear us and clearly see what we were about to go do.
He shook his head, moving quicker and leaving the door ajar. “No time.”
“Why is that?” I asked, teasingly.
He shot me an exasperated look, head tilted to the side. “I can’t stay away from you for one more fucking second, Park.”
I couldn’t help my grin. “Is that so?”
“Your boobs are practically spilling out of that top.”
I covered them with an arm, noticing one was most definitely about to pop out. “They’re getting bigger. I can’t help it.”
He frowned at the sight of me hiding them and reached down to nip at my wrist. “Stop that. I love it.”
He quickly fumbled with the key, his impatience making it take longer than it should’ve, and got us inside the house. With another swift kick, the door slammed shut, and he padded down the hall. Snow clung to his boots, leaving a wet path in their wake.
His uncontainable need for me had my thighs clenching together as heat built in my core. I was already wet—hell, most days, I was always wet around him—and just as eager as he was.
Once we passed the bedroom threshold, he set me gently on my feet and shucked off his jacket. I arched a brow as he undressed with a speed I didn’t think was possible. His shirt, jeans, underwear, boots, socks—they were all off in less than twenty seconds.
His gaze roamed over my body before he moved in front of me and undressed me all the same. I giggled when my shirt got caught in my necklace, but he quickly rectified the tangle and unclasped my bra in a blink.
His hands framing my face, he tilted my chin up so he could kiss me. His breath was fast and hot on my cheek as he walked me backward toward the bed.
“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbled against my lips.
“So are you,” I murmured back.
He lowered my ass to the comforter, then cradled the back of my head as he laid me flat.
His hands coasted down my body, over my breasts and stomach, past my hips, until they gripped behind my knees.
He tugged me forward, the fabric of the comforter making my skin restless.
I needed more. Needed him. Inside of me. On me. All over me.
“Beckham,” I pleaded, eyes focused on where he stroked his cock and lined the head up with my entrance.
His gaze was so homed in on our bodies about to join that he couldn’t tear his focus away. “Yes, baby.”
My hands fisted in the comforter, tugging it like it might bring him closer. His eyes flicked to the movement, noticing my fidgeting, and in one swift thrust, he slid into me.
My head fell back, my body relaxing as soon as he was inside of me.
“Shit, Parker,” he hissed, moving deeper and deeper until he bent over me and pressed his lips between my breasts. “I could never get tired of this.”
A gasp left me as he slid out and back in.
His lips moved to my nipple, tongue circling the bud.
“Neither could I,” I agreed breathlessly. My hips twisted, my back arching as I ached for more of him.
“Tell me what you need, baby,” he murmured against my skin. His mustache scratched near my nipple, lighting my nerves on fire.
“You. Just you.”
With one hand braced beside my head, he reached down to rub my clit, but with my stomach getting in the way, I was growing frustrated. He filled me, and yet I needed more.
Sensing my inability to sit still, he quickly pulled out and grabbed my hips. He wasted no time flipping me over until I was on my knees, and with both hands grabbing my waist, he tugged me back until his cock was sliding blissfully back inside of me.
I looked over my shoulder at him as he ran his hand up my spine, then pushed on my shoulder blades until my chest lay flat against the bed. He pounded into me over and over again, each thrust absolutely heaven.
My cheek pressed into the comforter while my fingers tangled in the fabric. He ran a hand over my ass, gripping the flesh before his movements became more rigid.
The hand on my ass slid around my stomach until it stopped between my legs and played with my clit. I moaned, falling deeper into the bed as he drew me closer to the edge.
His cock hit deeper, coiling my core until I was a bomb ready to explode.
He must’ve felt me tightening around him because he kept that pace, fucking me deeper than before.
I screamed out, turning my face into the mattress as my entire body let go and I came around him.
“That’s my good girl,” he praised as he stroked my clit harder, faster. “How many times can I make you come, Parker?”
I panted into the sheets, my body strung tight, yet I wanted more.
The pressure of his cock disappeared, and I nearly whimpered, but then he flipped me onto my back. His heated eyes and sweat-glistening chest had me aching all over again.
Our gazes held for a heavy moment before he lowered to his knees and spread my legs apart.
I cursed, our eyes still glued to one another as he dragged his tongue up my center. Remnants of my release stuck to his taste buds, and this time, I did whimper.
“You taste so fucking good.”
My lashes fluttered as his mouth closed and his throat bobbed on a swallow.
He cocked his head. “Do you want to taste?”
I nodded, almost too eagerly. All that did was make him more feral, his pupils dilating. With his fingers gripping the insides of my thighs, he dragged his tongue up my pussy again.
Mouth still open, he crawled up the bed and offered me his tongue. With no hesitation, I wrapped my lips around it, sucking him into my mouth as his dangling chain bounced against my chin. The taste of my cum had me moaning, the sweet flavor making my pussy throb.
He pulled his tongue out and kissed me hard. My head fell back against the bed as he peppered my skin with kisses, down my neck and over my breasts, until he was back between my legs.
Not even a minute passed of him sucking on my clit before I came again. And again.
Until he finally buried himself in my pussy once more and released every last drop of his orgasm into me.
With our energy spent and our breathing rapid, he lay beside me and pulled me against him. I rested my cheek on his chest, listening to his heart pound. And right when he started to relax, his heart rate shot up and he dragged a hand down his face.
“Shit.”
I sat up, worry instantly taking over. “What’s wrong?”
He must’ve seen the concern in my gaze, because he tugged me back down to him and tightened his arm around me. “I forgot the casserole dish at Ellis’s house.”
Relief seeped out of me like a flood. “Do you want to go get it?” We needed it for Callan and Sage’s small engagement celebration tomorrow. We were making a sweet potato casserole to go with the dinner.
He turned his head to look at the clock. “She should still be up. I don’t want to make you go out in the cold, though.” A smile lit his lovestruck eyes. “You look so perfect like this.”
I returned the smile. “I can take a bath while you’re gone.”
He turned onto his side, wrapping me in a tighter embrace. My head fit perfectly under his chin, and I hummed in contentment.
“Will you wait for me in there?”
“I’d never pass up the opportunity to take a bath with you.”
One of his hands slid down my back to grip my ass. “Good. Because I don’t think I’m done with you for tonight.”
I laughed, nuzzling deeper into his hold. “I don’t think I’m done either.”
Reluctantly, he climbed out of bed, and I instantly missed his warmth.
He pulled his phone out of his jeans, presumably to text Ellis that he would be stopping by, before dressing himself.
I frowned. “I liked it better when you were naked and in bed with me.”
He smiled that dazzling smile that always made me melt and came around the side of the bed to place a kiss on my forehead. “Trust me, I like that way more.”
I sat up, wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him down farther, and pressed my lips to his. “Be safe.”
“I will. And stay warm.”
I didn’t force myself out of the cozy bed until I heard the front door click shut.
As soon as I was out of the comfortable embrace of the blankets, goosebumps rose on my skin.
Starting the bath would take a minute, and I didn’t want to walk around naked, so I grabbed one of his sweatshirts out of the closet and went to the room I used to stay in to tug on a pair of fleece leggings.
Nearly every night since we took the leap into being more, I’d slept in his room. Looking at the guest bed, it felt weird to think we were apart before. Sleeping next to him felt as normal as breathing.
In the bathroom, I turned the warm water on, periodically checking to make sure it wasn’t getting too hot. I was overly paranoid about baths while carrying this baby, but I loved them too much to give them up.
While watching the water rise, my stomach let out a low rumble. The more pregnant I became, the more hungry I constantly was. It was both nice because I loved food and terrible because I could rarely do anything these days without needing a snack in my pocket.
After another test of the water temperature, I padded down the hallway toward the kitchen to find something easy to eat in the bath.
I rounded the corner, eyes narrowing on my ankles and wondering if they were swelling. That was yet another paranoia of mine. Deciding it was my mind playing tricks on me, I looked up. And came to a dead stop.
There was a man in the kitchen.
And it wasn’t Beckham.