Chapter 26
TWENTY-SIX
KENNEDY
We’ve had the best time tonight. There are vineyards I never knew existed only forty-five minutes away from the city.
While I couldn’t imbibe in the product given my current state, the owner gave us a private tour and taught us about the process of making wines.
We picked and ate a few of the wine grapes, tasting the different varieties.
She showed us the difference in leaves from the vines of various types of wine.
It was fascinating. We even got to participate in some of the planting for the next harvest, and she promised to send us a case when the wine from those grapes is ready, which should be after the baby comes.
She’s even going to create a private collection for us from it, which she’s allowing us to name.
We got to stomp on grapes with our bare feet and participate in every step of the process. Given how much he knows I enjoy good wine, it was a really thoughtful date. The fact that we couldn’t drink didn’t spoil the fun at all. Yes, he refuses to drink if I can’t.
We then went to a nearby restaurant with farm-to-table dining. It’s a one-table restaurant that seats sixteen people, but he paid for all the spots so there would be no one else around to see us.
We’ve talked and laughed throughout the best meal I’ve had in ages.
We learned so much more about each other.
I got to hear about how those yo mama jokes started between him and his father, which makes it all the sweeter.
I learned the reasoning behind why he hired Chef Benny.
When I first heard he had a house manager, I judged him for it.
Now I realize how generous and sweet it is of him to take care of a former teammate that way.
There’s so much more to Daylen Humblecut than meets the eye.
He even dressed nicely for me in designer duds. I guarantee he didn’t own those a week ago.
I’m in a simple, black dress that sits mid-thigh.
There’s a sheer element to it where it’s a bit revealing in the right light.
I knew every time I hit that light today because Daylen’s eyes were on my body, practically undressing me.
He’s not remotely hiding his attraction, and I can admit that he’s been driving me crazy with need all day with his loving demeanor and sweet touches.
I initially wasn’t sure if I should go home with him tonight, but now it’s inevitable. I want him badly.
We’re just finishing the best blueberry pie I’ve ever had in my life when he takes my hand and kisses it. “Sometimes I can’t get a read on you. What are you looking for? What do you want in a partner?”
I smile at his thoughtful question. “I just want someone to care for me as much as Netflix cares if someone has logged onto my account from another device at another location.”
He lets out his loud laugh. I think the whole staff looks at us from the sheer volume. That laugh used to annoy me so damn much. Now I live for it. It automatically makes me smile.
He squeezes my hand. “Seriously. Tell me.”
I think for a moment, wanting to give him an honest response.
“I can’t say I’ve put a lot of thought into it.
I’m still young. I haven’t spent my time looking for the one like a lot of women my age.
Mr. Right Now has been all I’ve ever been interested in.
I know I’m a little messed up about relationships, so I’ve never let myself go there.
” I pause to take a sip of my water before continuing.
“If I dig deep, which I did a bit during my time in Maine, I suppose I want to truly matter to my partner. I want to be prioritized. It doesn’t take a degree to figure out why.
I’ve never felt that way. My father didn’t prioritize me.
My mother most definitely didn’t prioritize me.
Hell, my basketball team in New York didn’t prioritize me. When is it my turn to matter?”
I’m taken aback by that revelation. I’m not sure I’ve ever admitted it to myself, let alone spoken those words out loud to another person.
His normal jovial face turns serious. I think maybe tears briefly pool in his eyes.
He brings my hand to his lips and kisses it again.
“You matter to me, Kennedy.” He reaches over and rubs my belly tenderly.
“You matter to our daughter. You’ll be the most important person in the world to her. To both of us.”
I fight back the threatening tears caused by his sweetness. “Don’t make me cry, Daylen Humblecut. I was looking to get laid tonight,” I joke to keep things light. “Carrying your baby is making me hornier than a two-dicked billy goat.”
And this time when he laughs, every single head undoubtedly turns. I think the huge wooden table and all sixteen chairs shake too.
His glassy eyes turn mischievous as he takes out a coin from his pocket. Holding it up, he says, “Tails, I give you head. Heads, I get your tail.”
I smile widely. I like this game. Wiggling my eyebrows, I say, “Why choose? Who says we can’t have both?”
“For real?” he asks excitedly.
“As long as you make me come over and over, you can do with me as you want.”
He holds his hand up in the air. “Check, please.”
We crash through his front door with our lips locked, not too different from Vegas, but this time, there are so many more emotions involved.
We’re also stone-cold sober, so there’s no sloppiness.
It’s passionate, purposeful touches. Lots of them.
I’m not sure I’ve ever been more ravenous for a man than I am for him right now.
Because I’ve never cared about one until now.
I fell just a little harder for Daylen Humblecut tonight, and now I want to jump his bones. I normally have a healthy sexual appetite, but pregnancy has me going crazy all the time. It’s a constant need, and I plan to get my fill tonight.
He lifts my dress over my head and tosses it on the floor before lifting me so my legs wrap around him. Just as our lips are about to meet again, I feel a giant paw on my bare ass. Just one, though, because the other is wrapped around Daylen. She wants to join us.
I giggle. “This isn’t the kind of threesome I’m into.”
“Does that mean there are threesomes you are into?” he asks with sudden curiosity.
“What woman doesn’t want to get railed by two guys?” I joke. Sort of.
He scrunches his face. “Men? Forget it. I’m not sharing my wife with any other man.” He kisses down my neck. “She’s all mine. For better or worse.”
For the first time ever, I don’t hate it when he calls me his wife. In fact, it gives me chills.
“BJ, bed!” he commands. And I swear I nearly come from his authoritative tone and the way she immediately obeys.
“That turned you on,” he accuses with amusement. “Your nipples are practically poking through your bra.”
I nod. “Fuck, it was hot. Now get all bossy with me and fuck me hard.”
He looks down my body until his eyes find my stomach. “Maybe I should take it easy on you tonight. I was super rough with you last time. I didn’t know you were pregnant.”
I grab fistfuls of his hair and pull it hard. “I swear to god, if you take it easy on me, I’m milking your prostate every damn day throughout this pregnancy.”
He shrugs. “I’d be good with that. It felt weird, but the orgasm was killer. It literally brought me to my knees.”
I narrow my eyes at him, and he smiles. “Fine, I’ll choke you to near unconsciousness if that’s what you want.”
I nod emphatically. “Yes, that’s what I want. Get to work.”
“Okay, okay, Ms. Bossy.” He pauses briefly, almost as if he’s nervous. “Can I show you something first?”
“Your dick? I’ve seen it. I know it’s big. I’m mentally prepared.”
He chuckles. “Not my Humblecock. Something else.”
“Is it a red room of pain? Oh god, please let it be that.”
He shakes his head in amusement. “You have a one-track mind, Jeffries.”
“Your child is causing increased blood flow to my downtown, and since you put said child in there, I need you to take care of business for me.”
He places me back on my feet. “Five extra minutes, then orgasms galore. I’m gonna be like Oprah.” He points to my mouth and yells out, “You get an orgasm.” Then he points to my pussy. “You get an orgasm.” Finally, he points to my ass. “And you get an orgasm.”
I smile at his ridiculousness. “Fine, I’ll wait an extra five minutes for all those alleged orgasms,” I say with a heavy dose of sarcasm.
Removing his sports coat and throwing it over the kitchen chair, he takes my hand and leads me to the stairs. We ascend the first flight, which is where all the bedrooms are. But then we walk down the hall to a smaller second flight I hadn’t noticed before.
As we climb the second set of much narrower stairs, I look around at the unfamiliar space. “I didn’t know there was a third floor.”
“There’s not. It only leads to one thing.” He stops in the middle of the stairs and looks at me. “Just so you know, I’ve never brought another person up here before. Chef Benny knows this space is off limits. Even BJ hasn’t been here.”
Where the hell are we going?
We continue to climb until we reach the top of the stairs, where French doors sit. They have thin, white, silky curtains. While they’re not opaque, I still can’t see where they lead. I’m half hoping for a red room of pain.
He opens them, and I can’t help but smile.
It’s a small balcony facing the back of the house.
It provides a great view of the stars in the late-night sky, which appear to go on as far as the eye can see.
There’s a huge circular hybrid of a sofa and a lounge chair.
It’s got a back to it with a small overhang and is filled with pillows and blankets.
It kind of looks like a soft, cushiony cloud.
“What is this?” I ask.