Twisted(59)

Alexandra pulls herself from the couch. “And on that note—roll me home, Steven. As fun as it is to watch my little brother grovel, I’m too tired to really enjoy it at the moment.”

Delores and Matthew get up to go too, so the four of them can share a cab. Though I really don’t know how that’s going to work—Alexandra’s gonna need the entire backseat for herself.

I’ll keep that little observation to myself, however.

Besides, I have more important matters to deal with. Like finding my girlfriend.



I knock softly at the bathroom door. “Kate?”

There’s shuffling behind the door. “I’ll be right out.”

Shit. Her voice is stuffy. Wet. Delores wasn’t screwing with me. I reach up and grab the key from its spot on top of the molding. I unlock the door and open it slowly, and there she is. Standing in front of the mirror, with tear tracks staining her cheeks.

Kate turns to look at me and hiccups. Her tone is pitiful. Sad. “I don’t want to be fat.”

She covers her face with her hands and sobs into them.

I try to hold in the laugh. Really. But she looks so cute and miserable, I don’t quite pull it off. I wrap my arms around her from behind. “You’re not fat, Kate.”

Her voice is muffled by her hands. “Yes, I am. I couldn’t put my shoes on yesterday. Dee Dee had to help me because I couldn’t reach.”

This time I can’t help laughing out loud. I rest my chin on her shoulder and pull her hands down from her face. Our eyes meet in the mirror. “You’re pregnant—not fat.” I think for a moment and then add matter-of-factly, “Alexandra’s fat.”

Her damp eyes squint. “She’s pregnant.”

“Not in her thighs.”

Kate shakes her head. “You’re so mean.”

“I’m not trying to be. I’m just trying to point out the fact that you’re gorgeous.” I rub my hands up and down her narrow hips. “Sexy as hell.”

And I’m not bullshitting her. The midsection might be at maximum capacity, but her legs are slim. Toned. And she’s still sporting the sweetest, tightest ass this side of the Hudson River.

Sure, she’s hormonal and irrational half the time—but the other half of the time, she’s horny. Hornier then I’ve ever seen her. Plus—there’s the boobs. Can’t forget them. They’re almost as big as her head. So much fun.

Not that there’s anything wrong with Kate’s everyday breasts—but pregnancy tits are like India. You don’t have to stay forever, but it sure is exciting to visit.

Kate doubts my sincerity. “Sexy? Please. Don’t blow smoke up my ass, Drew.”

I smirk. “Trust me sweetheart—if I’m thinking about slipping something up your ass? It’s not gonna be smoke.”

She turns in my arms, unconvinced. “How could you ever think this”—she points to her body—“is sexy?”

I hesitate. And rub the back of my neck. “It might make you mad.”

“Risk it.”

I shrug. “Well . . . I did this to you.” A fact I’m sure she won’t let me forget, once we’re in the delivery room. “I made you like this—left my mark. That’s my kid you’re incubating. It’s like a big neon sign that says PROPERTY OF DREW EVANS. Call me a caveman, but that’s a major frigging turn-on for me.”

She’s quiet for a minute, then looks down at our joined hands. “What if I can’t lose the weight after the baby’s born?”

“You will.”

“But what if I don’t?”

I shrug again. “Then I’ll become a chubby chaser. A little extra cushion for the pushin’ isn’t a bad thing.”

She rolls her eyes, but then she laughs. I cup her face with both hands and bring her lips to mine. The kiss starts off sweet and tender.

And then it’s . . . not.

Her teeth nip at my lips. Hard and urgent. Begging for more. And my legs tremble with the need to please her.

It still amazes me—the power she has. This tiny woman can bring me to my knees with a look . . . a sigh. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’ve been to the other side. I’ve seen what freedom has to offer.

Misery.

Bring on the f*cking chains; I’ll take slavery any day.

Kate pulls back, eyes closed. Panting. “Drew . . . Drew, I need . . .”

I push the hair back from her face. “What, baby, tell me? What do you need?”

Her eyes open. “Do you want me, Drew?”

I suck on her bottom lip. And hiss, “Yes.”

“Show me. Make me feel it. Don’t think about the baby . . . just . . . f*ck me . . . like before . . .”

Holy Mary Mother of God.

Okay, at the moment, Kate is . . . stretched. Delicate. Like a water balloon that’s been filled too much.

I’ve had to make conscious effort to take it easy with her in the sex department. Slow and gentle, despite some fantastically creative positions. But now, the things she’s saying—her voice—Christ, it’s all I can do not to bend her over the sink and f*ck her till we both go blind.

“I want it hard . . . please, Drew . . . like we used to . . .”

Jesus, this is what a deranged gorilla must feel like, right after he’s escaped the zoo.