Chapter 28
SAGE
A massive yawn takes over as I stumble to the door of the apartment. It’s early morning, and all I can think about is falling into bed and sleeping the day away.
As if pregnancy wasn’t tiring enough, I’m just finishing my last night shift for a while. I managed to trade the rest of them until I go on maternity leave, and thank God for that.
I unlock and push open the door, then come to an abrupt stop, blinking my eyes to see if I’m already asleep and dreaming. Because the man in front of me is straight out of my fantasies.
Shirtless, barefoot, and wearing nothing but a pair of low-slung grey sweatpants, Brady is stretched out on the couch, grinning up at me.
Resting on his chest is another one of his pregnancy books. And perched on his face are those wire-framed glasses I first saw sitting on his bedside table.
“If I’m dreaming, don’t let me wake up,” I mumble, letting my bag fall to the floor.
Fantasy Brady laughs, swings his legs around, and stands up. I stay where I am, frozen with exhaustion and horniness warring inside of me. He walks right up to me, takes my hands, and drapes them on top of his shoulders before leaning down and kissing my lips lightly.
“Not a dream, Hurricane.”
He kisses me again, deeper this time, and lets out a low rumble of appreciation. His fingers find the end of my braid and he slowly untangles my hair before raking his fingers through the length.
“Oh my God, that feels good,” I moan, tipping my head back. Brady dips his head down, nipping at my neck. His lips travel up and along my jaw until I get too impatient and tug his face to mine, pouring myself into the kiss.
Except Brady pulls back after not nearly long enough. He tucks my hair behind my ears, a satisfied smirk on his stupidly handsome face.
“By the way, something arrived for you yesterday evening.” He looks weirdly pleased by this, making me wonder if it’s something he ordered for me, or…
“Oh!” I exclaim, pushing at his chest. I crane my neck around until I spy the package on the counter beside us. I grab it and hold it out in front of me. “Here. This is for you. Well, sort of.”
I try to contain my excitement as he looks at the small flat package, then back at me, a myriad of emotions playing across his face.
He opens it slowly, his eyes widening. To my surprise, they start to glisten with tears as he lifts the book out.
“Baseball Baby?” Brady croaks.
“I thought her first book should be about the most important thing in her daddy’s life,” I say quietly, twisting my hands together. “It’s got different textures and stuff inside, too, for her to play with and feel.”
“Sage,” he says hoarsely, before putting the book down and grabbing my hands, pulling me back into his arms. He buries his head into my shoulder. “I love it. Thank you.” He holds me close for a moment before backing off slightly and grasping the back of my neck.
“But baseball isn’t the most important thing to me anymore.” His free hand goes to my stomach. “This is. Her. You. Us.”
It’s my turn for misty eyes. I lean in and kiss him. “Wait, why did you look excited that I got a package?” I ask.
Brady ducks his head. “Um, it’s gonna sound dumb.”
“Tell me, please?”
He looks back up at me with a chagrined expression. “I liked that you felt comfortable ordering something to the apartment. I don’t know, it felt like you were seeing this as your home, too.” His cheeks grow red. “Told you it was dumb.”
“Brady,” I murmur, cupping his face in my hands. “That’s not dumb, it’s sweet.” I kiss his lips softly. “You’re sweet.”
He wraps his arms around me, pulling me in as close as he can with our baby bump between us. “You’re important to me. Seeing you relaxed and happy makes me happy.”
We kiss again, and this time, it quickly turns from sweet to something much more. I reach down to lift my shirt up over my head before reaching for the hem of his.
He quirks his lips but tugs his shirt off, then tangles his hands in my hair and drags me in for another deep, drugging kiss.
My earlier exhaustion is replaced with need as I shiver with anticipation. Until I remember two very important things.
First, I still haven’t showered, and after twelve hours of work, that’s necessary. Second, this damn baby belly is so big, I can’t see to shave my legs, much less keep anywhere else tidy.
“Crap, Brady, we can’t,” I groan, pulling back.
“Wh-what? Why?” he pants, sounding pained. “Are you okay? Does something hurt?”
I shake my head. I don’t really want to admit the reason why, but I know he’ll just worry it’s something bad if I don’t confess.
Keeping my gaze trained on the floor, I gesture toward the hall. “I, um, I need to shower off work.”
“Oh, well, I could join you,” he says, his tone shifting back to suggestive, moving closer.
Shaking my head, I take a step back. Even though I’m looking down at the floor, I catch the hurt look that flashes over his face. Crap.
“My belly is too big to shave my legs or, you know, anywhere else. It’s just kind of a mess down there.”
Silence falls after my hurried confession. Then, to my utter mortification, Brady starts to laugh.
“Yeah. So. Anyway, I’m gonna go shower and go to bed.” I turn to leave, but he catches my hand, spinning me back around and straight into his arms.
“Sage. Hurricane. Stop.”
I stare straight ahead. Which, of course, means I’m staring at his muscular chest. Must not drool.
A firm hand grips my chin, tilting it upward, so I’m looking into his warm brown eyes.
“If you think I care one bit about unshaved legs, or anywhere else, for that matter, you’re crazy. You’re beautiful, sexy as hell, and I will never not want you. Even if you were as hairy as a yeti.”
I all but melt at his words and the confident, firm tone with which he says them. But he’s not done.
“But if it matters to you, will you let me help you?”
My mouth falls open. “What?”
His lips curve up. “Let me help you.”
Without another word, he leads me down the hall to the bedroom, then straight into the en suite bathroom.
He turns on the shower, and the room quickly starts to heat up.
Or maybe that’s me getting hot and flustered as he pushes down his sweatpants, leaving his noticeably hard cock trapped in nothing more than some tight dark grey boxer briefs.
I lick my lips, my heart racing when he steps forward and brings his hands to the waist of the joggers I changed into at the hospital after my shift. He doesn’t move to pull them down right away, instead dropping his head next to my ear and whispering, “May I?”
I swallow down my nerves and fears. Obviously, I’m the only one concerned about my inability to groom the lady parts right now. Because the heat in Brady’s expression and tone makes it clear he’s not concerned about anything but getting me naked.
I nod. He kisses the skin right below my ear.
“Good girl.”
He pushes my pants and underwear down in one move before trailing his hands back up my legs. Then, leaning into the shower, he checks the temperature before tugging me in with him, still wearing his underwear.
I can’t help my moan of pleasure as he guides me under the water, his hands stroking down my back and continuing to the curve of my ass.
Taking me by surprise, Brady starts to wash my hair.
The gentle massage of his fingertips on my scalp is pure bliss, and I quickly give in to the comfort of him caring for me.
When he’s finished with my hair, he grabs my shower gel and pours some into his hands before slowly and methodically running them over my entire body.
There’s nothing overtly sexual about his touch, but it’s intimate and affectionate, nonetheless.
He drops down to his knees on the hard tile floor, still simply rubbing and massaging my legs until he stops, his face level with my baby bump. Leaning in, he kisses it tenderly before looking up at me and raising one hand.
“Razor, please.”
I hand it to him wordlessly. He takes the can of shaving cream next, and after placing one of my feet on his thigh, he starts to shave my legs.
I lean back against the shower wall and close my eyes, letting the sensations of his gentle, loving touch, the smooth slide of the razor, and the heat of the water pouring down on us soothe me, even as it stokes the fire inside of me even hotter.
I only know my legs are done when Brady sets the razor down, and with a firmer hand strokes up and down my outer thighs.
“Now, I believe you were concerned about the situation here.” He drags his hands around to the front of my legs until his thumbs are grazing the crease of my hips.
“Personally, I couldn’t care less. I’d be more worried about nicking your skin.
So, tell me, little mama. Do I keep going?
Or do I show you just how little some hair down here matters when it comes to how I feel about you? ”
Before I can respond, he ducks his head down and kisses the skin below my belly button, still stroking gentle circles with his thumbs.
I find my voice when his lips dip even lower. And I no longer care about any damn hair, either.
“Brady, please.” It comes out as a half whisper, half moan.
He just chuckles, low and deep. “Please what, Sage? Tell me what you want.”
I whimper when his thumb comes close to my clit. “I want you to make me come.”
“Gladly.”
His lips seal around the sensitive bundle of nerves, and he sucks, hard enough that my eyes roll into the back of my head.
My moan echoes in the closed space of the shower, and it spurs him on until he’s all but devouring my pussy.
I slap my hand against the shower wall, the other one going to the back of his head, which I can only just reach thanks to my baby bump being in the way.
His tongue dips in and out, teasing me in between him sucking and nipping at my folds.
I feel empty, desperate for any part of him to be inside of me, but his huge hands are holding me up so I don’t slip.
Still, even with his support, my legs start to tremble when my orgasm comes hurtling toward me.
“Brady,” I moan as my core starts to tighten, my breath coming quicker, and my toes curling.
I shriek his name once more as I come, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over me.
He holds me to him through it all, gently licking and stroking my sensitized skin until I collapse against the wall, completely spent.
My earlier exhaustion returns, hitting me like a freight train. I barely register Brady turning off the water, towelling me dry, or tucking me into bed.
I do notice him climbing into the bed next to me, wrapping his long body around mine, his hand resting on my stomach.
And the last thing I hear before fully succumbing to sleep is his voice whispering softly, “I want to keep you forever.”