Infinity. (Infinity Series) (8 page)

BOOK: Infinity. (Infinity Series)
9.87Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

The internal war in Colin’s head is fascinating to observe. I watch fear at what I’m saying grey his face. I see wonderment at what my body can do fill his eyes. I see the idea of having to shave my legs and rub my feet dance on his beautiful lips. Finally he confirms, “I can do that.” Then, without missing a beat, “So when can we tell everybody?”

“We have another appointment in four weeks. As long as everything is still on track, we can share our news with our family and friends.”

He face lights up like Christmas morning. “Can we tell them the same way that you told me? Can I show them my shoes compared to the baby’s?”

How could I tell him no when he’s this cute? “Of course we can.”

Colin gently pushes me back on the beige flooring, making quick work of removing my pants, and leans down to rest his head just above my pubic bone. I don’t have the heart to tell him that my uterus is not that high up yet. “Hi bean,” he says. “This is your daddy’s voice. Get used to hearing it, because I’m you and your mommy’s biggest fan. You be nice to her and quit making her feel bad. ‘Kay?”

I laugh at his silliness, and run my fingers through his wavy locks. He lifts his head and stares down at my panties as if he’s found a buried treasure. They’re removed, and tossed haphazardly over his left shoulder with the shirt he never put on. Before I can moan “Oh God,” Colin’s buried in the apex of my thighs.

Apparently, I can cross
Being afraid to make love to me
off of my worry list.

This feels so right. Perfect. Not just the wonderful attention that he’s paying to my body, but the whole energy surrounding us. He’s happy, which makes me fret less. He still finds my body appetizing. God, my thoughts, are interrupted when he slips one, two, hell, a whole hand’s worth of fingers inside me, finding that perfect place that makes me moan his name while he continues to suck and nip at me.

“Colin, that feels so good,” I encourage him begging for more. More of what? I’m not sure, but I’m not ready to find my release.

He reaches up with his free hand and gives my nipple a hard pinch. As if I’m Popeye and have just been handed a can of spinach, I become sex crazed and desperate for him. His tongue feels delicious against my clit and his fingers are magic, but I need rough. I need to feel him inside of me. I want him buried balls deep, and pounding my special place over and over again. I feel like it’s been days since we’ve made love instead of less than twenty-four hours. Even though what he is doing to my body feels great, it’s not the assurance hard lovemaking brings me. Instead of running my fingers through his hair, I’m grabbing it, and begging him for more.

“Please Colin,” I all but sob, “fuck me.” I sound pathetic to my own ears, but at least I can use pregnancy now as an excuse.

Before I register what he’s doing, I’m positioned on my hands and knees, and he begins feeding his penis into me inch by perfect inch. When he’s completely inside, I rock back against his hips, taking all of him. This is the closeness that I need. The connection. Our feeling of oneness. When we’re like this, I become unaware of where I stop and he begins.

He grabs my hips. “This how you want it?” He drives in harder, hitting my cervix, which makes me unable to answer him with a coherent word. Instead I just groan.

“God, you feel so perfect. So wet. So tight. Pregnant pussy is perfection.” He’s jackhammering into me.

No. No, I definitely don’t have to worry about him being careful with my pregnant body.

I almost laugh at his alliteration, but at the moment I’m too consumed with making sure that I’m properly fucked. I rotate my hips around his cock and pull forward, slamming back against him. “Oh God,” he yells out. “Like that, Charlie.”

The longer that I rock back and forth on his erection, the wilder I become. This level of intimacy becomes not enough. I pull off of him and turn around. I’m eye height with his long, thick, gorgeous penis, the same one that was inside of me when we created a new life together. Perfection!

I know what I need. I need him inside of my mouth. Craving this new level of intimacy, I need to taste the essence of my husband.

I tap his thigh indicating that I want him to lie down. He does, but wrinkles his brow in confusion. I kneel over him and bend down taking him into my mouth, and suck as if I’m starving. I cup his heavy balls in my other hand, feeling how warm they are. “Fuck, Charlie, what are you doing to me?” he growls.

I ignore him, taking him deeper down my throat than I ever have before. My cheeks hollow, and my throat swallows around him.

His moans spur me on, making me ache to have him filling me again, but I don’t dare quit. My power over him is hedonistic.

He reaches down and grabs my head, trying to make me stop as I feel his balls tighten up against his body. “No,” he says, in a voice that says he really doesn’t know if he means for me to actually quit.

All the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t get me to remove him from my mouth. I want his come. I want to taste him. I want to swallow it. I’m starving for it. This is definitely the pregnancy hormones talking.

He grips my hair, tugging painfully, and says, “I’m going to come, Charlie.” His voice is so authoritative that it almost makes me pause for a second.

That’s what I want.

When the first spurt hits the back of my throat, I hollow out my cheeks even more, longing for every drop.

I only stop when he pleads through gritted teeth, and with graveled voice, “You’re hurting me baby,” he says as he taps my head.

I’m not sated yet. Standing up without looking back at him, I walk through our bathroom and into the bedroom. I open the bottom drawer of my nightstand and pull out my favorite toy. It’s my vibrator with a rabbit clit-stimulator.
Yup! It’ll do
, I decide.

Colin walks into the bedroom just as I’m turning on my toy and shoving it not so gingerly inside of me.  “Care to help?” I ask as he stares at me like I’m an escaped psych-ward patient.

“What is wrong with you?” He’s in all his naked glory while his semi-firm penis flops against the inside of his toned thigh. He doesn’t say it like he’s concerned for my safety. Poor Colin is clearly confused as to what to do with me.

Ignoring him, I close my eyes, concentrating on how good the vibrations feel inside. This is what I need to find my release.

I guess Colin decides if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, because I feel him slip his large hand around the base of the BOB, replacing my grip. “Is this what you need, baby?” he asks with a concern-etched voice.

I moan as I let him take over pleasuring me. Opening my eyes, I check to make sure that he’s okay with this. Not that I particularly care at the moment, but I want to see his reaction to using toys on me.

I’m pleased that he seems to be getting into it. His lust-heavy eyes watch the toy sliding in and out of me. “God, Charlie. You’re so fucking beautiful, baby. Do you like this?” he asks while he changes the angle of the BOB. “Do you like it when I angle it forwards and then back?”

“Colin…” I moan. I’ve been a fan of sex toys since I discovered what an orgasm was in high school, but I’ve never had anyone else use them to pleasure me. It’s hot. Maybe beyond hot. There’s a new level of intimacy with Colin that I wasn’t expecting.

“How about if I squeeze your nipples like this?” He pinches my over-sensitive nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and my eyes roll back in my head.

The jolt of pleasure and pain travels to where the vibrator is working me into a frenzy, making me yell out something incoherent to my own ears.

“Keep doing that,” I plead. “Oh, God, please keep doing it just like that.” The orgasm that wracks through my body is so overwhelming that I might have temporarily lost consciousness.
Holy hell! That felt amazing.

Colin slowly begins to turn down the vibrations on my toy until it’s off. When I feel him slide it out of me, I open my eyes for the first time since I came to look at my lover’s face. When he sees my irises, he shakes his head and smirks. “What has gotten into you, Charlie? I’ve never seen anything like that, except on a porno.”

I tartly reply, “Your baby.”

 

****

 

We’ve shared a near perfect evening of dining outside and swimming, until a night chill filled the air. Colin and I showered together, and made love against the cold slate wall. Later in the evening, as I was tucked in tightly against his chest and covered in our summer sheet and blanket, Colin sang to me “I Haven’t Even Heard You Cry” by Aaron Lines. The words couldn’t have been more perfect to mark our feelings. Pregnancy hormones got the best of me, though when he sang the line,
And I’ll make mistakes there’s no doubt. But love’s one thing you won’t live without. ‘Cause you own a place in my heart now.

So true… So very true for both of us.

Colin’s been asleep for hours, but I’m too wound up to relax. Tomorrow, we leave for the ESPY Awards. It’s the one-year anniversary of the day we shocked the world by Colin grabbing my hand, pulling me to my feet, and escorting me out of the theater while the audience and host of the show watched us in stunned silence.

The media has been reminding everyone what we did. I swear, the clip has been played in a continuous loop, to the point that I haven’t turned on the TV in days. All eyes will be on us, and I’m pregnant with boobs so big that the dress barely contains them. I flip over, attempting to find a cool place on the sheets and clear my mind of the anxiety.

Colin has reminded me I don’t have to walk the red carpet with him. I didn’t last year. However, I feel like he needs my support. We need to show the world that despite the rumors, our relationship is solid. I also need to prove to Colin that I can be his partner in his career.  No, I’m not going to hide in the control room like I did last year. I will walk the red carpet with my husband, proudly standing by his side as he answers the media’s asinine questions. And our baby will be there with us. Our little secret from the world. The thought makes me smile as I finally relax into my pillow.

 

 

 

Chapter Three

 

Colin

 

 

“You look like a dream,” I whisper into Charlie’s hair, inhaling the grape scent of her shampoo. It stands out against the plethora of sunflowers covering the ground beneath our feet.

My hand cups her firm abdomen, feeling our son pushing against my callused fingertips as Charlie leans into my embrace.

The sun is shining so brightly it’s blinding my vision, and I can’t read the emotions on her face but I know that she’s happy. How do I know? Because the world is colored in shades of yellows and golds.

I also know that our son will be here soon. The knowledge makes a smile touch my eyes, and my heart warms with anticipation.

Charlie’s laugh forces a giggle from me. I didn’t know that I could giggle, but with Charlie I can be myself, laughing freely, without worry of what the media might print.

She turns, looking at me over her shoulder, and begins to run in the other direction from where I’m standing. She’s obviously teasing me, and I love it. When I capture her, I’ll ravage her body and make her yell, “Colin” over and over again while I bring her pleasure. I’m the most content when Charlie is happy.

The field of sunflowers that we’ve been standing in shifts to a vast wasteland of tangled grey vines right before my eyes. The world is desolate and the earth looks like it’s been scorched. As I turn to move toward Charlie, the toe of my shoe catches in a deep crack. I stumble forward, barely regaining my balance.

“When did that happen?” I ask. But she just shrugs her shoulders almost as if she can’t hear me.

She turns, and again, she starts running away. “Charlie,” I call. “Slow down. You’re going to trip and hurt yourself or the baby.” My stomach clenches in panic
. Why would she run away from me when we’re so close to meeting our son?

She doesn’t seem to hear me and keeps taunting me, looking over her shoulder. She’s still playing with me, throwing her head back, laughing like crazy. Daring me to capture her. I realize that she thinks she’s still in the field of sunflowers
. She thinks she’s safe, but she’s not.

I take off in a sprint after her. She must be warned. The vines will take her and the baby.

“Charlie,” I scream as I chase her.

The vines start closing in around her, grabbing and dragging her away. They’re taking her to some place in the blackness before us.

I can’t let her go. If she enters the blackness, I’ll never hold her again.

There are no more smells in this world. When I breathe, I inhale the scent of nothingness. The vines wrap around my ankles, anchoring me to the dead earth. I can’t get away. The more I grab at them, the more they latch on to me, wrapping their tentacles around my body. Something wet oozes between my fingers. It’s my blood, but I can’t feel the deep lacerations the vines have made all over my body.

Charlie realizes she’s in trouble. I can’t see her face, but she screams “Colin” in a high-pitched, terrified voice.

“I’m coming for you. Don’t give up, Charlie. I’ll save you,” I yell back to her, trying but failing to keep my emotions in check.

Then, I watch in horror as Charlie’s rounded stomach deflates, and the vines carry her and our son into the dark.

“Oh God,” I plead. “Don’t take them away from me. They’re all I have.” The vines are now wrapped around my legs up to my hips. My arms are at a forty-five degree angle from my body held immobile by the sickly grey vines.

Helplessly, I stand pinned to the ground while my wife and child fade away.

“Fuck!” I sit up and swing my legs to the edge of the bed. My heart is pounding so hard, I can’t catch my breath. Sweat has drenched where I was sleeping. My hand has to touch Charlie’s stomach to reassure my mind that she’s still here and the baby is safe.

Other books

Flying Free by Nigel Farage
The Stolen Da Vinci Manuscripts by Joshua Elliot James
The Prince's Nanny by Carol Grace
Temptress in Training by Susan Gee Heino
Amnesia by Beverly Barton
Onyx by Jennifer L. Armentrout
The Life of an Unknown Man by Andreï Makine
Only the Wicked by Gary Phillips
Soar by John Weisman