Chapter 20
TWENTY
Everything has changed , I think as I stare at the spoon I dropped. I’m not picking it up. Annoyed, I toss my yogurt cup in the sink and head to my bathroom. One thing that always makes me feel better is a nice, long shower, nearly scalding, so hot the steam covers me.
Maybe that’s my tropical side coming out, much like my mom loving hot-ass drinks. We should be studied.
And then, I remember I have last-minute work to get done before Paula’s event in a few days.
Cono.
Quintin is meeting with his friends, and that has me a little stressed. He asked my permission to share the news about the baby, and it’s the closest we’ve gotten to acknowledging the role he’s going to play.
I wonder if he told them he isn’t the biological father. That wasn’t something we talked about; I was too scared of his answer.
I rationalize I can shower now and work later, knowing that when Quintin comes home, he’ll be a good sounding board if I need one.
Home . I stop my walk to the bathroom short as I realize I’ve come to consider this Quintin’s home as well.
Who the fuck am I, and what have I gotten myself into?
Is this a relationship? Is this my man?
And he wants to be my baby daddy?
Before I can spiral, I take my clothes off and get in the shower, reveling in the hot water as it washes my worries away.
I glance down at my feet, realizing I can no longer see them if I’m standing straight.
I can’t see my vagina anymore. I’m not sure what Quintin has been seeing on his near daily visits down there. It’s likely a fucking mess. How embarrassing.
I can’t lie on my back comfortably anymore, so I’ve forgone wax appointments.
And just like that, my soothing shower is done. I’m rifling through my closet, wearing only a towel, when I hear my front door being unlocked. I rush out to make sure it isn’t an intruder, already hopped up on hormones.
Who runs toward danger? My dumb ass.
“Hey, beautiful,” he exclaims, still staring at the lock as he pulls the key from it.
“I’m so fucking big ,” I groan, tears in my eyes as I face Quintin standing at the threshold of my apartment. His easygoing smile slides from his face, and I sniffle, wiping at my tears as I turn away.
“Wait, wait.” He stops me, grabbing my hand to keep me from running to my room and destroying everything in my closet. Being this big, this uncomfortable, and expected to look put together is detrimental to my sanity and comfort.
I am officially losing my mind.
He tries to hug me, and I shrug away, not wanting the contact. Even though it’s dreary outside, I’m hot as fuck. I can’t distinguish whether I’m wet from sweat or the shower I just took. Gross.
“How can I help?”
“Get this baby out of me,” I whine, walking to my bedroom as I adjust my towel.
He follows quietly behind me, and I huff as I lie back on my bed.
“I can’t find anything to wear, I can’t see my toes unless I bend a little, and I can’t tell you the last time I was able to see my vagina.”
“Want me to take a look? Make sure she’s okay?” The crinkling at the edges of his eyes makes me roll my own.
I love that he wants me all the time, but right now, I don’t feel very attractive.
“She probably looks like Chewbacca.”
He lets out a bark of laughter, still standing at the foot of my bed. While I didn’t say yes, I also didn’t say no.
“I’d sit next to you, but I’m wearing outside clothes,” he murmurs, looking down at me with affection. He runs his hand from my knee up to my thigh, stopping where the towel sits. “But I don’t mind shaving you, Dani.”
Huh?
I struggle to sit, settling on my elbows instead. “That’s not…weird?”
The thought makes me press my thighs together, and he grins as he catches the movement.
This will either be the sexiest thing I’ve ever experienced or the most awkward, but I’m desperate enough to say yes. If the obstetrician can examine my coochie, the man who puts his mouth on it may as well be able to.
“I’m here to serve,” he muses before turning away, no doubt to get the proper supplies. Sure enough, when he returns, I see the razor, shaving cream, a bowl of water, and a rag in his possession.
I watch as he sets them on the nightstand before turning to step in front of me again. My legs part a little, and I wonder if he can see her already underneath my towel.
“Let me take care of you,” he says, three fingers against my chest as he presses me to lie fully back. Can he feel the unsteady thrumming of my heart, the way my pulse hammers whenever he touches me?
He catches his bottom lip between his teeth, and I’ve never been so motherfucking turned on.
He stares at me like he’s dying to taste me, and the hormones flowing through me have me dying for him do just that.
With a sigh, I lie back, unable to see too much of my lower half over my belly unless I pick my head up.
“What did I do to deserve this?” I ask, throwing my arms over my head as he pulls the towel away, revealing me. It’s different preparing for foreplay than it is preparing to be shaved. It feels more intimate.
“You threw up on me,” he answers with a chuckle, and I cover my face with my hands. “Don’t be embarrassed. Turns out, you had good reason.”
There’s that feeling again, like we’re dating each other with a third person involved. The bigger I get, the more apparent it becomes that this third person will be joining us soon, and nothing will be the same again.
“You okay?” He reaches for the backs of my knees, tucking his hands under to bend them and expose me further. Even though I’m still stupidly horny, I can’t bring myself to pull my hands from my face to look at him.
“Just mortified.” The words are muffled, and I swear, I can hear him grinning. “You’re about to shave my vagina because I can’t see it anymore.”
“I don’t need a reason to touch you, but if you give me one, you bet I’m going to take every opportunity.”
The air is cool against me, and I sigh as I relax, trying not to watch as he gathers his supplies before settling on the edge of the bed. I am utterly exposed, a shiver running through me.
His head disappears between my legs, and the first swipe of the razor has me biting my lip to stifle my moan.
“Don’t move, Rapunzel,” he reminds me, and I exhale, a nervous laugh chasing it. This fucking guy.
Better Rapunzel than Chewbacca, I suppose.
“It tickles,” I squeak out, and he scrapes his teeth over the inside of my thigh. “I don’t think anyone outside of my doctor has seen me this closely.”
“You have a beautiful pussy, Daniela,” Quintin reassures me. As if to prove it, he runs his thumb down the seam. “I can’t wait to kiss it when I’m finished.”
I try to stay as still as possible, aware of each drag of the razor. I can feel each exhale brushing against my sensitive skin, and he’s silent as he works. I can’t see him over my belly, just a brief glimpse of his shoulders, back, and occasionally his head.
After ten minutes, he sits up, setting the items aside. I get a glimpse of his erection straining against his sweatpants, and my lips part. I’m still motionless as he drags the washcloth down my pussy before he tosses it on the floor and settles back down.
It’s the only warning I get before his tongue swipes over me, as if begging for entrance. And when it makes its way inside me, I gasp, his finger plunging inside in tandem and curling, bringing me to ecstasy.
“Look at how beautiful you are,” he murmurs, still pumping his finger before adding another. “How wet, how pink, how she hugs my fingers. How perfect .”
My sex clenches around his fingers, and the orgasm barrels through me as I cry out, fisting the sheets. The towel is a distant memory by now, exposing all of me to him.
I’m breathless as he removes his clothes, gently rolling me to my side before entering me with ease. I sigh at the fullness, at how slowly he slides in before pulling almost all the way out.
“Look how beautiful you are,” he whispers in my ear, palming my breast with each thrust. I don’t have a moment to catch my breath when he moves to his knees, the new angle throwing me into another orgasm.
Quintin strokes me like each one is a compliment, making him strive for more. His fingers meet my clit, and he forces another out of me before lifting my legs to shift me to my back.
He loves my body languidly, as if he has all the time in the world, and fresh tears hit the sheets as I wonder if this is what love feels like.
I wake up to the sound of soft footsteps and muffled clinks, and I wonder what the hell is going on.
I yawn and stretch before rolling and scooting my pregnant ass out of bed.
Barely awake, I waddle into the living room to face the man who had his face between my legs just last night.
All those orgasms promptly put me to sleep, and I wake up to find him fiddling with something.
“Morning,” I mumble, my hair probably sticking out in all directions. Quintin turns around to face me, holding what seems to be...my home security camera system?
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he grins, that disarming smile making me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. “I set this up for you.”
My brain stalls for a moment as I stare at him. Has my brain short-circuited? “You did what now?”
He chuckles, still holding the items in his hands. “You know, just an extra layer of safety, especially with the baby coming.” He’s shirtless, and the sight of his chest makes it hard to focus. How am I still horny?
I glance at the camera, then back at him, mentally comparing my messy morning look to his perpetually perfect appearance. Even his un-styled hair looks like some sort of coif male models have a team to accomplish.
“Why, though?” I manage to ask, wondering what the fuck he’s even doing in my life, let alone setting up a camera for security reasons. This is all so much; it almost feels like too much.
I’m no man’s walking wet dream, and the things he’s doing directly contradict my own feelings. Who wants to be saddled with a baby who isn’t theirs?