“Oh, he thinks that about you, too,” she smiles with a guilty smirk on her face.
“Fucking great,” I sigh, not looking forward to that meeting.
“Don’t worry. He’s found himself a new girl. He’s totally pussy whipped,” she laughs, hooking my neck in her grasp as she pulls me toward her. “Kind of like you,” she murmurs against my lips. I don’t respond to her little bite, just take the kiss deeper and pull her closer to me. She wraps her legs around my waist, her hot pussy rubbing against me.
“You think I’m pussy whipped?” I finally ask. Her eyes are glazed over, and her lips are red from our rough kiss. It’s the second time I’ve been accused in the last twenty-four hours.
“Not at all,” she sweetly replies.
“Holly, I’m not whipped,” I tell her, stepping back out of her grasp to finish breakfast.
“No, I believe you,” she says, sliding off the counter.
“What are you doing?” I ask, watching her lift her dress. She hooks her thumbs into the sides of her panties and seductively drags them down her thighs.
“Oh, nothing much, I just want to see how not pussy whipped you are.” She kicks her panties up at me and jumps back up on the kitchen counter.
“Removing your panties isn’t going to make me cave,” I tell her, catching them and bringing them to my nose to breathe in her scent.
“Did you just sniff my panties?” she laughs, watching me pocket them in the back of my pants. I shrug, going back to watching her.
“Of course you didn’t, ‘cause you’re not pussy whipped, baby,” she purrs. Her voice sexy as fuck, while her fingers trail up her pale soft thigh. Jesus.
Her legs spread giving me the perfect view of her bare pussy. She’s a temptation; I’ll give her that.
“You don’t play fair,” I admit, forcing myself not to give in. I’ve got this. She won't win.
“You know, baby. If you were pussy whipped, you wouldn’t be able to handle this right now.” She continues to tease me as her fingers dance over her lips, spreading them to show me just how wet she is. Fuck me.
A growl erupts from my throat at seeing her spread out for me.
“Are you hungry, baby?” Her raspy voice all but breaks me.
“So fucking hungry,” I reply, watching her fingers slide into where I desperately ache to sink myself.
“Then come and get something to eat, Sy,” she all but begs. She doesn’t have to ask twice. I step forward, drop to my knees, and bury my face in her sweet cunt.
Her scent invades me, intoxicating me. Her moans fill her kitchen, the cries of passion only spurring me forward. Her hands come to my head, her short nails rake along my scalp.
“Fuck, I love your tongue,” she moans, her hips riding my face. Thrust and whimper, thrust and whimper. I flick, suck and nip harder, focusing on her tiny ball of nerves.
“Yes…yes…yes,” she chants as her orgasm runs through her. I don’t relent, pushing her further into the bliss she’s living right now.
Her cries fade and her movements slow as I lazily slide my tongue up and down through her wetness.
“Again,” she demands, her voice hoarse from her screams.
“You’ve got a greedy pussy, you know that?” I voice, looking up at her sexy-as-fuck just-orgasmed look.
“Only for you,” she smirks, still in her post-euphoric state. I kiss the inside of her thigh, adjusting myself so my cock doesn’t feel like it’s straining in my jeans.
“I think you’re totally whipped over my greedy pussy,” she sasses.
“Is that what you think?”
“It’s what I know,” she shrugs.
“You know, I think you’re right. This greedy cunt is my kryptonite.”
“Well, what are we going to do about that, Superman?”
“Superman?” I laugh at her joke. “How about SuperSy,” I say and I hold back my snort as I take her naked ass and throw her over my shoulder.
Fuck me, I am pussy whipped.
***
“Are you scared?” her voice breaks through the darkness of our room later that night.
“I’m scared of your dad,” I joke, knowing she’s asking about being a father, but trying to make light of it.
“You should be. He will so take you on,” she giggles, but I hear the concern in her voice.
“I’m a little nervous,” I answer truthfully. As much as I wanted this, now that I’ve had time to let it sink in, my stress levels are getting a workout.
“Me too,” she admits, running her hand along her flat stomach. “I don’t know what it’s like for you, Sy, and I don’t ever want to know, but this fear that something is going to go wrong is eating me up.” She turns her head to look at me and even if I can't see her expression against the inky night, I know what I would be looking at.
“You don’t need to be afraid, Holly.” I try my best to calm her nerves.
“How can you say that? After everything you and I have been through?”
“I can say that because I have faith. I trust we are going to be okay. That nothing is going to happen to our child, and I have to believe that. I have to believe in the good.”
“It’s just hard when it has been taken away from us before,” she admits and I know what she’s saying. I understand it, but we can’t live through this pregnancy worrying about what ifs. If we have a second chance at it, we need to take it. We shouldn’t be getting lost in something we can’t control. I know it’s easier said than done, but we have to try, for our baby’s sake.
“Sweetheart, everything good in life involves some level of risk. You have to be prepared to take a risk to achieve an amazing end. I can't promise you nothing bad is going to happen, Holly. I can't do that, but I can promise you right now if something does happen, I will do everything in my power to fight to make it right, but have some faith, baby. Have faith that we have a healthy little person growing inside of you. Know, when she arrives, she is going to be more than perfect; and believe you are going to be an incredible mother.” I kiss her and run my hand over her belly.
“She?” she asks.
“Or he. I’d like to think Keira would like a little sister,” I say, but I have no problem either way, as long as our baby is healthy.
“That would be nice,” she smiles. “I love you, Sy.” Her hand comes over mine, connecting us as a family.
“I love you, too, baby.”
***
“Catch me.”
“Keira?” I call when I hear her high-pitched laugh echoing through the field.
“Daddy, you came,” she replies like every time she has come to me, but something is different this time.
“You’re here?” I whisper, looking into her dark brown eyes.
“Look at that sunset, Daddy,” she smiles, the breeze carrying the sweet sound of her voice all around me.
“I miss you,” I say, wishing this moment was real. “Don’t leave me again,” I plead, hoping I can hold her again, hold her forever.
“You have to look after my baby brother, Daddy,” she laughs, shaking her head, swaying her dark curls from side to side.
“Brother?” I ask as she slowly walks away from me.
“Wait, Keira. Wait for me,” I panic when I can't get to her. Why can’t I ever reach her?
“Bye, Daddy,” she murmurs. Only this time I know it’s the last time she’ll visit me. She stands silhouetted against all the colors of the universe as the afternoon sun sets behind her. Her favorite place.
“Bye, baby.”
EPILOGUE
Holly
“Why do we even have to be here?” Jesse asks, coming through the kitchen still limping on his bad leg. It’s been four months since his birthday and his foot is still not back to full movement. After holding off for four weeks, the boys were able to convince him to have the surgery to try and repair some of the damage done when he fell. He did say earlier he’s looking at another surgery to fix some scar tissue that could be messing around with it. Regardless, he’s been cranky, moody and not the Jesse we all know and adore.