Page 11

Ryker

I follow Mary into our bedroom, and she storms to the closet, pulling out her second suitcase. The one she has packed from her traveling contracts sits at the end of the bed, still zipped up.

“Can you just wait a second? And give us time to talk.”

Mary turns to stare at me, a resigned deadness in her eyes that has my stomach clenching. “Talk about what? Obviously you two are keeping the baby.”

I nod. “Yes, but we’d still like?—”

“And what? It would just stay in Stassie’s room, and you just trade off which one you’re sleeping in when you feel like it? How was this going to work in your head?”

I bite back my annoyance at her condescending tone and shrug. “We haven’t thought that far yet.”

“Of course not because you’re too busy fucking each other,” Mary spits out. She huffs out an unamused laugh and goes back to pulling out some of her clothes before facing me again. “Seriously, what the fuck do you guys want from me? How long were you two going to keep having an affair and just let me keep living without a clue about it?”

“We were going to tell you when you got back. Stassie is afraid to lose you and she needs you, especially now?—”

Mary groans, rubbing her hands down her face. “I don’t fucking care what Stassie wants or needs.”

My mouth snaps shut as we stare at each other. Tears prickle in her eyes and her shoulders rise before falling.

“That’s it? Nothing else to say? What about you, Ryker? Are you afraid of losing me? Do you need me?”

The crack in her voice hurts because I know she's in pain, and there’s nothing I can say to make her feel better, so I stay silent. After a few moments, Mary nods and sits down on the corner of the bed.

“You’re in love with her, aren’t you? In a way you never were with me?” Mary asks, the sadness in her voice causing a shudder down my spine.

I move to sit next to her, but keep space between us.

“I love you both differently,” I admit in a whisper, my throat aching with emotion. It’s not the answer she wants, but I barely understand it myself. I do love Mary, and I love the time we’ve spent together. But after being with Stassie, I think my relationship with Mary became more about not starting over. A contentment that I didn’t want to disrupt because it was easy. With Stassie, I like that she needs me. I like that she brings out parts of me I hadn’t dared to explore before.

“But if I made you choose?”

“I’d choose them.” There’s no doubt in my tone, and she shudders before standing. Mary wipes at her nose and looks around the room sadly. Her eyes meet mine and she shrugs.

“I can’t be here right now.”

I nod. “Let me at least get you a hotel.”

She shakes her head. “No, I’m going to go to a friend’s…and I just need some space, okay? Please tell Stassie to give me some space.”

“I will, but Mary?—”

She holds up her hand. “Please, I don’t want to hear it.”

Giving her the space she wants, I walk back into Stassie’s room, finding her curled into a fetal position in her bed, her face pressed into a pillow as her shoulders rack with sobs. I shut the door and climb into bed with her, wrapping my arm around her.

“Shhh. It’s going to be okay. Try to calm down, baby,” I whisper into her hair, pulling the pillow away from her face.

She sniffs and hiccups, wiping at her eyes and nose with her blanket. “She hates me.”

I hold her tighter. “We knew it was going to be difficult at first, but she’ll come around.”

Stassie shakes her head, trembling in my arms. “No, I don’t think she will. She’s never been cruel like that before.”

I rest my forehead on her shoulder. “We can only wait and see. I know it hurts, baby, but you gotta try to calm down a bit. I’m going to turn on your noise machine and put some oils in the diffuser. Let’s see if we can get some sleep.”

She sniffles louder. “Is she leaving?”

“Yeah, she is.”

A choked noise gurgles at the back of her throat. “I don’t want to go back in that room.”

My heart twists, but I nod. “Then we won’t. We’ll stay here, okay?”

Stassie doesn’t say anything, so I gingerly climb off the bed and finish her night routine before cuddling back into her. After twenty minutes of quiet weeping, her breathing evens out and I know she’s sleeping. Ten minutes after that, I listen as something heavy is dragged across the floor, and then I hear the click of the apartment door closing. The tension drains from my body and I shut my eyes, resting my face in the crook of Stassie’s neck and hoping for the future we both clearly want.

Stassie’s tits are so large my hands struggle to contain them. Her nails dig into my chest as I pump into her wet, dripping pussy from below. My heels sink into the mattress so I thrust my hips, filling her over and over, pounding her with my cock. At first, I’d been worried about being too rough, but the doctor assured me it's fine, which is a relief because my girl is insatiable. Her eyes drift to the nightstand, and I know she wants me to stuff her with her dildo, but we don’t have time. My parents are throwing us a small baby shower and we’re going to be late, but her anxiety was too much to let her go without wringing out some orgasms.

She whimpers. “Please?—”

“When we get back, I promise. I need you to come on my cock, baby.” I let go of her tits to slide down and cradle her large belly. We’re about eight weeks away from birth, and Stassie has never looked so beautiful. “Seeing you like this, swollen with my baby, still desperate for my cock, I fucking can’t get enough. Give me your juices, pretty girl. I need you to drench me.”

She cries out, her pussy clamping down and squeezing me. I grunt, trying to fuck her through it but god damn, her channel is like heaven.

“Where do you want my cum, baby? Inside or on you?”

“Inside, please,” she begs.

I thrust a few more times and then let go, feeling my cock swell and sputter as I paint her walls with my cum. I rub her sides as we come down from our highs before climbing off the bed and carrying her to the bathroom. She moves to the shower and turns on the water before opening her legs so I can watch my cum drip out, and then she pees.

I shudder and my cock twitches but I will myself not to react. My mom will be upset if we’re later than we already are.

“I wish I had the time to wash your body and hair like usual, but we got to go,” I tell her, frowning with genuine disappointment. I love exploring every inch of her, touching all I can.

She smiles. “It’s okay. Later? After the thing you promised?”

I shake my head with a grin. “Of course.”

We go through the motions, washing off quickly before I get dressed and leave her to do her hair and makeup while I head into the kitchen. Wrapping up a few of her snacks, I pack them in the backpack we’ve started to carry around.

I grab her flavored water in her oversized steel cup, glad it at least has a handle, and head back to our room.

“Almost ready?” I ask, leaning on the doorframe. I catch a flicker of a sad expression in the mirror before it’s wiped clean and she nods, putting on some lipgloss and then standing from the vanity.

She moves to me with a smile and I catch her waist.

“You good?”

Stassie swallows. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. I was just…it’s fine.”

I study her face and sigh, pulling her into my arms. “I wish she was here too.”

She stiffens and then relaxes into my hold. “I gave her a few weeks before texting, but she hasn’t responded at all.”

“I know, baby. I’m sure she’s thrown herself into work, but it’s still only been a few months. We have no right to get impatient with her timeline.”

Stassie sniffs and steps back, grabbing her cup from me. “Lemon?”

“Pear. You said last night the lemon was too lemony.”

She wrinkles her nose. “Oh yeah. Thank you.”

After she takes a drink, I lean down and kiss her and rub her belly. “I love you, and I love our daughter.”

She kisses me back. “We love you too.”

When we get to my parents’ house and settle in, I take a photo of Stassie from the side, showing off her large pregnant belly and the banner of the shower’s theme in the background, and send it to the one person I know Stassie wanted here. When the messages go through, just like the rest, I breathe out a sigh of relief. If there’s one thing I know about Mary, it’s when she’s done with someone, she’s done. She has her own parents blocked on her phone, so I know whenever she’s ready, she’ll be open to speaking to us again.