44. Axel
Axel
“ A re you sure about this?” I ask from the outside of the bathroom door. “You’ve hurled three times already today. We can do this another day when you’re feeling better.”
I’m not sure when, but I have no clue what I’m supposed to say right now. She’s thrown up almost every day for the last week and I’m starting to wonder if there’s a problem. It can’t be normal for one small woman to expel that much from her body on a regular basis.
“No fucking way are you getting out of this date. You promised,” she bellows and the distinct sound of the dry heave that follows is almost enough to make me follow suit.
I tried to go in there with her, to hold her hair, but I made the fatal mistake of sympathy gagging and I’ve been banned.
“It’s already taken you too long to plan it, you practically owe me a second one already. ”
A minute later, the lock clicks and the door pops open, my gorgeous trainwreck waltzes out in all her pregnant glory, as naked as the day she was born.
It’s a good thing she told Arabella when she did, because that belly is definitely popping.
But fuck if she doesn’t look hot carrying my child.
My dick stirs to life in my pants as I watch her stride past me to get to the closet.
Aaaaand the view from behind is just as enticing.
“If you don’t cover yourself up quickly, we won’t be going anywhere,” I tease, following behind and cornering her by the rack of brand new maternity pants she insisted we buy sooner rather than later, leaning into her so she can feel my hardening cock against her ass.
“Well, that’s not entirely true. We’ll be going back to bed so I can stick my hard cock in your ass. I know how much you love that.”
“It’s a little unfair of you to threaten me with a good time and then basically set me up for failure so you can have your way with me, baby,” she coos in that sugary sweet voice she gets when she’s about to pull a reverse uno and make me question all my life choices.
Turning to face me she continues, “I’ll tell you what.
You can fuck my ass instead of taking me on this date or you can take me on this date like you fucking promised and then you won’t have to hear me whine about it anymore. Dealer’s choice, Senor Studly.”
My eyes instinctively roll back into my skull. “Fine, but I’m taking your ass for dessert.” I push off her and hear the distinct sound of a laugh as I leave her to finish dressing. I’m dangerously close to saying fuck it and mounting her ass on the closet floor.
She’s right though.
She’s been pestering me about this date since I promised it to her in the woods.
I’ve let her believe that I was just pushing it off, but in reality I needed the time to arrange things how I wanted them.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t anxious about it, though.
I’m not exactly what you would call a romantic person.
Grand gestures aren’t really in my wheelhouse, but I got help from both Hayes and David so I could at least try to make it a night to remember for her.
Hayes was just grateful I helped him get the woods setup for use, he kind of owed me one.
David… well… he wants to see his daughter happy and was on board when I told him my plan.
Now I just have to execute that plan without her hurling her guts and needing to spend the evening secured to the toilet seat.
“Ugh, nothing fits me anymore. Please tell me this outfit doesn’t make me look like a beached whale,” Wrinley asks hesitantly.
This insecure version of her is something I’m seeing more and more of and as hard as it is, I need to find a way to show her how much I crave her like this.
Honestly, I might love it enough to keep her pregnant if it weren’t for the fact that it would result in more offspring.
One is manageable. Beyond that, I’m not so sure.
Maybe once I’m able to make sure I won’t fuck up the one already incoming.
I glance down to see my left hand holding her right and our forearms line up just right so the tattoo I got for her lines up just right against hers.
An unfamiliar warmth spreads across my skin and my heart skips a beat or two at the site.
My tattoo completes the imperfect circle she had inked on her skin because she thought she was incomplete.
She’s not though. She’s about as close to perfect as they come.
I parked the truck a block away so we could walk a little and not ruin the surprise. We’re almost there, so I stop walking and pull her quickly into me. Her free hand lands on my chest and her breath stutters at the sudden disruption.
“Baby, you’re arguably the most beautiful I’ve ever seen you.
You’re pregnant… with my child and I’ve never been more turned on at the sight of you.
In fact, consider yourself lucky you can’t get more pregnant than you already are, because my cock has lived at half mast since you started showing and I fully plan on using that tight cunt of yours as much as humanly possible until you tell me not to.
” Her mouth gapes at my words eliciting a dark chuckle to rumble from my chest. “Better close your mouth. That’s also looking pretty inviting and I’m not opposed to filling it in that alleyway over there, just to get some relief. ”
Her lips pull into a playful grin as she slaps my chest. “You’re so lucky my sex drive has increased since I’ve been carrying your child and all of that sounds pretty good to me or we’d have a problem on our hands. But also… thank you.”
“What kind of problem do you think we’d have? I seem to recall you love it when I have to apply a little force,” I tease.
“Fine, you’re right. I do. Could you at least pretend like you don’t know me as well as you do from time to time? That would be really great for me,” she deadpans. Little does she know, I’m about to show her exactly how well I know her.
We round the next corner and she gasps as the theater comes into view. The movie listed on the marquis, I happen to know, is her all time favorite.
“Are we…?”
“Are we what, little trainwreck?”
“Are we seriously going to see Dirty Dancing right now?” Her voice cracks a little as she says the words and when I peer down at her, she’s looking back at me with wide, glassy eyes. Fuck. She’s going to cry.
“Yeah. We are,” I answer, pulling her hand closer and tighter to my side as we approach the box office out front.
This just so happens to be the oldest theater in Chicago that still actually shows movies.
It took a considerable amount of work and possibly a little bribery to get them to play this particular movie, but thankfully, I found some questionable porn on the owners personal devices that really helped sell it.
Now we have the entire place to ourselves all evening.
“How many?” the girl in the box office asks in her most authentic customer service voice.
“Two for Dirty Dancing, please,” I tell her. She hands me the tickets and I lead Wrinley inside.
“Where is everyone?” she asks curiously. “I know this place is old, but it’s dead in here.”
I’m not answering that particular question, even though she won’t stop asking and she’s about to get her answer anyway. Pulling her through the cafe doors that lead to the screen, she lets out a tiny whine, no doubt because I’m refusing to give her the answers.
As soon as we’re through the doors, all objections are gone.
The place is completely empty and the movie is queued up, just as I’d asked it to be.
The seating is old school theater style and the screen sits on a stage with curtains tied up to the sides like it was actually used for theater type things back in the day.
If I were into this kind of thing, I’d be pretty impressed.
“Where would you like to sit?” I ask. When she doesn’t immediately answer, I turn to see her eyes wide and her mouth even wider. There’s a flush to her cheeks that wasn’t there before and I’m all of a sudden unsure she’s happy with this.
“There’s no one else here.”
“There better not be anyone fucking here. I went through a lot of trouble to get this place to ourselves. I’d rather not have to take someone out for fucking it up.”
Her expression falls into something considerably more flat. “Can we not joke about murdering innocent people please?”
“Who the fuck said I was joking? Anyone that fucks with you or my plans for you can go live with Brad or fucking Thadd. That’s non-negotiable, baby. You should know that by now.” If she doesn’t know, she really should. There’s not a person in the world I wouldn’t take down for her.
Ignoring me, she releases a centering breath, then steps in front of me, pulling me aggressively down the aisle until we get to row J and she turns, pulling us into the aisle where we eventually land in seats 14 and 15.
“Will you sit on that side of me, please?” she asks softly, pointing to the seat on the right.
I cock a questioning brow. “What difference does it make?”
“You know… I kinda hoped you were past the asshole phase of our relationship.”
I can’t even stop the belly laugh that escapes me at that statement.
“No, you fucking didn’t. You love me like this and don’t even try to deny it.
” Stifling my amusement, in one swift movement, I reach out and grip her slender throat between my fingers causing her to release a low, guttural moan just before I grit out, “Now stop being a fucking brat, and tell me why you want me to sit in that specific seat.”
Her hands fly up and rest on my forearm.
I’m not squeezing tightly, and while I can feel her pulse racing, I know my girl and she’s not afraid.
She’s aroused. “It’s not about the seat.
It’s about wanting you to sit to the right of me so I can see our tattoos together.
Maybe I like seeing them connected, as one. Ever think of that, asshole?”
Fuck .
I answer her question by quietly landing my ass in the seat she requested. She follows suit, then grabs my hand, intertwining our fingers so tightly, I’m not convinced she isn’t about to break at least one of them. Point taken, little trainwreck.
Before long, the lights dim around us, the opening credits play, and I’m pretty sure I hear the distinct sound of a sniffle coming from the seat to the left of me.