Page 53
Story: Knocked Up
She turns slowly, and I barely loosen my arms, but let them drift to her hips as she moves until she’s facing me. “Are you always this agreeable?”
“I think you’ll remember there are definitely times I prefer to be a bit bossy, honey.” Her cheeks flush the way I knew they would. “But I really don’t want you puking at Luella’s. It’s a nice place.”
She laughs and shakes her head. “Whatever.”
“What sounds good to you?”
“I don’t know. Steak, maybe?”
“You got it. Go get ready. I’ll make the calls.”
“Thank you. Thank you for making all of this so easy for me.” Before I can tell her it’s not a problem, because it’snota problem to change reservations from Luella’s to the City Grill where I actually know one of the sous-chefs, she slides her hand to my cheek, rolls to her toes, and presses her lips to mine.
She tastes like sunshine and sweetness and I take her kiss, losing myself in the feel of her, the fact she’s kissingmeand not the other way around, and I wonder for a brief moment, if we can just cancel dinner, order in again, and have the entire night to ourselves.
Before I can decide which is better, she pulls back and licks her bottom lip slowly, sealing in the taste of me and grinning.
“I’ll go get dressed.”
I watch her leave, my gaze trained to the swell of her luscious ass as she leaves. Then I readjust my hard dick, make some calls, and head to my own bedroom to get dressed.
The City Grill requires a suit. It’ll be the second time in two weeks I’m wearing one for her. If she eats well, has some laughs, and enjoys the night with her friends and perhaps shares her appreciation of that fun with me later in less-clothed ways, I’ll wear a fucking toga if that’s what it takes to make her happy.
Chapter 19
Cara
I’m just over thirteen weeks pregnant. My previously nonexistent tummy area now holds a small pooch that makes wearing my dressy clothes difficult.
I’m also learning pregnancy cravings come at the absolute worst times possible.
The four of us have been seated at a beautiful table on the thirtieth floor of the U.S. Bancorp Tower. Beams between the windows are covered in warming golds and tans, cherrywood chairs and white tablecloths…it’s elegant and relaxed, casual but classy, a place that makes you want to settle in with good friends and good food and enjoy a great night of dining and company.
When we arrived earlier at the base of the building, I’d looked all the way to the top, knowing exactly where were headed, and with an awe in my voice I didn’t bother to hide, I had turned to Braxton. “You got us reservations here? How?”
“It’s all about who you know, honey,” he’d said.
Behind us, Jenna had snickered.
Turns out one of his repeat clients at MadInk is a sous-chef at the restaurant and was able to pull some strings, not only getting us an excellent table with a window view so we could see the Cascade Range in the distance, but he’s had a complimentary bottle of champagne delivered to our table as well.
Lucky for them. Jenna laughed when I glared at her happily filling her champagne glass while I’m stuck with sparkling water.
I’m scanning my menu knowing their Wagyu top sirloin is succulent and mouth-watering and their rice rolls are made to utter perfection along with their rack of lamb, when I glance over the prosciutto stuffed chicken, which I’ve had before and is amazing, and feel my stomach roll.
“This was a really great idea, Braxton,” Jenna says, forcing me to lift my gaze. “It’s really great to have all of us together.”
“No problem,” he says, nodding toward her.
She takes a sip of her champagne and goes back to her menu, whispering to Dan about what sounds good to him.
My gaze goes to the mountain range and I take several slow and deep breaths to try to settle my stomach. When that doesn’t work, I dig into my small clutch, grateful I remembered to bring some of my ginger candies.
“What’s wrong?” Braxton asks when I crumple the plastic wrapper and shove it inside my handbag.
“Nothing. I’ll be fine.” I take a sip of my water, the iced chill doing nothing to soothe my quickly heating skin.
I know exactly what this means, and I’m regretting every single moment of what I know is sure to come.
“I think you’ll remember there are definitely times I prefer to be a bit bossy, honey.” Her cheeks flush the way I knew they would. “But I really don’t want you puking at Luella’s. It’s a nice place.”
She laughs and shakes her head. “Whatever.”
“What sounds good to you?”
“I don’t know. Steak, maybe?”
“You got it. Go get ready. I’ll make the calls.”
“Thank you. Thank you for making all of this so easy for me.” Before I can tell her it’s not a problem, because it’snota problem to change reservations from Luella’s to the City Grill where I actually know one of the sous-chefs, she slides her hand to my cheek, rolls to her toes, and presses her lips to mine.
She tastes like sunshine and sweetness and I take her kiss, losing myself in the feel of her, the fact she’s kissingmeand not the other way around, and I wonder for a brief moment, if we can just cancel dinner, order in again, and have the entire night to ourselves.
Before I can decide which is better, she pulls back and licks her bottom lip slowly, sealing in the taste of me and grinning.
“I’ll go get dressed.”
I watch her leave, my gaze trained to the swell of her luscious ass as she leaves. Then I readjust my hard dick, make some calls, and head to my own bedroom to get dressed.
The City Grill requires a suit. It’ll be the second time in two weeks I’m wearing one for her. If she eats well, has some laughs, and enjoys the night with her friends and perhaps shares her appreciation of that fun with me later in less-clothed ways, I’ll wear a fucking toga if that’s what it takes to make her happy.
Chapter 19
Cara
I’m just over thirteen weeks pregnant. My previously nonexistent tummy area now holds a small pooch that makes wearing my dressy clothes difficult.
I’m also learning pregnancy cravings come at the absolute worst times possible.
The four of us have been seated at a beautiful table on the thirtieth floor of the U.S. Bancorp Tower. Beams between the windows are covered in warming golds and tans, cherrywood chairs and white tablecloths…it’s elegant and relaxed, casual but classy, a place that makes you want to settle in with good friends and good food and enjoy a great night of dining and company.
When we arrived earlier at the base of the building, I’d looked all the way to the top, knowing exactly where were headed, and with an awe in my voice I didn’t bother to hide, I had turned to Braxton. “You got us reservations here? How?”
“It’s all about who you know, honey,” he’d said.
Behind us, Jenna had snickered.
Turns out one of his repeat clients at MadInk is a sous-chef at the restaurant and was able to pull some strings, not only getting us an excellent table with a window view so we could see the Cascade Range in the distance, but he’s had a complimentary bottle of champagne delivered to our table as well.
Lucky for them. Jenna laughed when I glared at her happily filling her champagne glass while I’m stuck with sparkling water.
I’m scanning my menu knowing their Wagyu top sirloin is succulent and mouth-watering and their rice rolls are made to utter perfection along with their rack of lamb, when I glance over the prosciutto stuffed chicken, which I’ve had before and is amazing, and feel my stomach roll.
“This was a really great idea, Braxton,” Jenna says, forcing me to lift my gaze. “It’s really great to have all of us together.”
“No problem,” he says, nodding toward her.
She takes a sip of her champagne and goes back to her menu, whispering to Dan about what sounds good to him.
My gaze goes to the mountain range and I take several slow and deep breaths to try to settle my stomach. When that doesn’t work, I dig into my small clutch, grateful I remembered to bring some of my ginger candies.
“What’s wrong?” Braxton asks when I crumple the plastic wrapper and shove it inside my handbag.
“Nothing. I’ll be fine.” I take a sip of my water, the iced chill doing nothing to soothe my quickly heating skin.
I know exactly what this means, and I’m regretting every single moment of what I know is sure to come.
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