Never Giving Up (Never #3)(11)

“Ok, calm down. Just relax. This can’t be good for the baby,” she said, winking at me and smiling. I smiled back at her.

“You’re going to be an auntie.” Megan’s face lit up and she gave me the biggest smile that probably only rivaled my own.

“I’m going to be an auntie? Oh my God.” She plopped down on the step ladder next to me, both of our rears hanging off the side for both of us to fit. Her head fell gently to my shoulder as my hand floated to my belly. We sat like that for a few minutes and then my phone started ringing, pulling us from our baby trance. I grabbed my phone and saw it was Porter calling.

“Here Megan, tell him I’m in the bathroom.” I tossed my phone at her and, luckily, she caught it. She answered it and from her end of the conversation I could tell he was just calling to confirm that our night would be spent in Salem. Megan told him she’d relay the message and hung up, turning to me.

“What the heck?”

“I can’t talk to him on the phone. He would be able to tell something was going on. I’m just not ready to tell him yet.” I reached up and readjusted the messy bun of blonde hair that sat atop my head, trying to think of how I would tell my husband that he did, in fact, have excellent swimmers.

Later that evening, after Megan helped me plot and plan, I had what I considered a sweet and sexy way to tell Porter he was going to be a daddy. It had taken a little bit of effort, but I managed to get everything arranged in time before he came home from work.

The house in Salem wasn’t optimal. It wasn’t my dream home—Porter was building that for us on a plot of land right outside the city limits—a house without close neighbors, with land to grow on, a place where we could have privacy and house a growing family if that’s where we chose to be. But tonight, the house was perfect. Lit with the soft glow of candles, it felt like home because this was where my husband was. Where ever he was would be home to me.

I heard the front door close and my pulse thumped in my chest, anticipation making room for nerves and excitement.

“Babe?” He called out to me. He knew something was going on, made obvious by all the candles.

“I’m in the bedroom,” I called out.

“Ah, my favorite four words.” I smiled at that. I made sure I was positioned in a way that was alluring without being distasteful. I was on my back, leaning up on my elbows, my blonde hair flowing over my shoulders. I had one knee bent and pulled up, with both legs twisted to the side a bit. I hoped I looked sexy and not ridiculous. My fears were abated when Porter walked in and I watched his face change from happy and expectant to dark and dangerous. His eyes darkened as they roamed over my form, his hands clenching into tight fists at his sides. “Holy hell, Ella.”

“I’ve been waiting for you,” I said, loving the way his throat moved as he swallowed, feeling the slow burn of his eyes as they traveled from the very top of my head all the way down to my bare feet. He ran his hand through his hair and I watched his biceps flex as his hand slid through his silky locks, making my stomach flip. I was here for a reason. I had a mission, but my body was very quickly hijacking my big reveal, opting, instead, for the sex I was trying to lure him in with.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you,” he said quietly, stalking towards me. He wasted no time pulling his shirt over his head, revealing the very hard and chiseled chest I was so in love with. He climbed over me in the bed, forcing my back flat against the mattress with his weight. His jeans felt rough against me, but I welcomed the friction. His hands slid up and down my sides. “This is very sexy. Is it new?” His hands bunched up the black fabric over my ribs and his mouth found my neck.

“I bought it just for you. I know you have a thing for lingerie.” Perhaps it was because we were still in the honeymoon phase of our relationship and marriage, but Porter always responded to lingerie, so I was constantly buying new pieces to keep him interested and satisfied. I knew he would take me wearing anything and I would still feel like the sexiest woman alive. He had that keen ability to worship me and turn my body into his temple. I chose this particular piece, however, because it served my purpose.

It was all black silk; a strappy tank top that flared out a little at the hem and tiny black shorts that barely covered anything. It was soft and solid, covering my skin without giving anything away.

“You’re wearing too many clothes still, Babe,” I whispered into his ear as his mouth worked my neck.

“Hmm . . .” He grumbled against my skin. I felt him pull away from me and I missed his weight. He stood at the foot of the bed, giving me a grin that dared me to come and help him remove the clothing I was opposed to. I scooted down to him, never breaking eye contact, and kept looking straight at him as I reached for the button on his jeans. Once unfastened, my hands glided just into the waistband and I smoothed them around his hips until I felt the swell of his ass. He smirked as I gave his ass a firm squeeze on both cheeks, then slid my hands down over the perfect globes, pushing his pants and boxers down as I went. He kicked them off the rest of the way along with his shoes and socks. Again, he climbed over me. His face hovered over mine for just a moment, our breaths mingling with each other’s. Slowly, his nose flipped the end of mine and just that touch could have sent me over the edge. It wasn’t overtly sexual, but it was Porter. And it was me.

His mouth found its place on mine, where it belonged, and I felt him gently lick the seam of my lips. I opened for him and met him and sighed as our tongues slowly danced with each other. This was all very good, everything was going according to plan, but I couldn’t afford to lose sight of the main objective. I gasped when his hand found my breast. The roughness of his calloused hands coupled with the cool crispness of the silk sliding over my nipple nearly derailed the entire plan. My breasts felt overly sensitive and this new sensation was a little overwhelming. But even through the haze of arousal I saw my opportunity.