Read Julia and Clay Plus One Online
Authors: Lauren Blakely
JULIA AND CLAY + ONE
A
Julia and Clay
bonus short story
by Lauren Blakely
Copyright © 2015 by Lauren
Blakely
Cover
Design by © Helen Williams
Ebook
Formatting by
Jesse Gordon
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otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright
owner and the above publisher of this book. This contemporary romance
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and
incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are
used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and
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The Caught Up in
Love Series (Each book in this series follows a different couple so
each book can be read separately, or enjoyed as a series since
characters crossover)
Caught Up in Her
(A
short prequel novella to
Caught
Up in Us
)
Caught Up In Us
Pretending He’s Mine
Trophy Husband
Stars in Their Eyes
Standalone Novels
BIG ROCK
(Early 2016)
Mister Orgasm
(2016)
Far Too Tempting
21 Stolen Kisses
Playing With Her Heart
(A standalone SEDUCTIVE NIGHTS spin-off novel about Jill and Davis)
The No Regrets
Series
The Thrill of It
The Start of Us
Every Second With You
The Seductive
Nights Series
First Night
(Julia
and Clay, prequel novella)
Night After Night
(Julia and Clay, book one)
After This Night
(Julia and Clay, book two)
One More Night
(Julia
and Clay, book three)
Nights With Him
(A
standalone novel about Michelle and Jack)
Forbidden Nights
(A
standalone novel about Nate and Casey)
The Sinful Nights
Series
Sweet Sinful Nights
Sinful Desire
Sinful Longing
Sinful Love
(2016)
The Fighting Fire
Series
Burn For Me
(Smith
and Jamie)
Melt for Him
(Megan
and Becker)
Consumed By You
(Travis and Cara)
The
Sapphire Affair
A
two-book series releasing Summer 2016
Silky hot.
Wet. Warm. Home.
His.
As Clay buried himself
deep inside his wife’s beautiful body with her bent over the bed,
writhing and panting and urging him on with her moans— as if he
needed any encouragement to fuck her good — his dirty mind briefly
flashed back to their first time.
This position. In her
bar. Bent over a chaise longue in San Francisco.
Here tonight, she was
just as alluring to him. She’d parked her hands on the edge of
their king-size bed and offered up herself, beautiful and lush, sexy
and captivating, and nine months pregnant with their baby.
He wasn’t entirely
sure if she wanted him to fuck her hard because she was horny, or
because she was hoping it would bring on the labor she’d been
begging to visit her for the last seven days of her pregnancy, since
she was a week past due.
But the reason she
wanted it didn’t matter to him. When the woman he adored demanded
he give it to her good, he heeded that call. Gripping her hips, and
rubbing her sweet, swollen clit with his finger, he drove into her.
As she bowed her back
she cried out. “Even harder. I’m so close, so close,” she
moaned.
“There’s always
more hardness for you, gorgeous,” he growled in her ear. “I bet
you want me to pull your hair too.”
“I do, I do,” she
said on a pant.
He grabbed those
gorgeous red strands, and twisted them around his fist as he sank
deeper into his wife, taking her the way she wanted, even with that
big, beautiful belly. He fucking loved this woman so much. Loved her
sprit, loved her heart, loved her mind, and loved her dirty soul that
wanted sex in abundance, just like he did.
Getting pregnant hadn’t
slowed them down at all. Quite possibly, it had amped up her already
sky-high sex drive. Fine with him. He’d happily take her whenever
she wanted it. Clay Nichols had never been interested in turning down
sex with the love of his life.
Or in missing a chance
to spank her. “And how about this? You want this too?” he asked,
smacking her lovely ass. Perhaps a touch lighter than he would if she
weren’t on the cusp of motherhood.
“I love that,” she
said, gasping.
“I know you do. You
always love it rough,” he said, landing another whack on the
gorgeous flesh in front of him, then soothing it out with his palm.
“So much,” she
said, her breathing wildly erratic, signaling she was ready to fly
off the cliff into ecstasy.
“So much it makes you
come right now?” he said on a perfectly coordinated thrust and
spank.
She clenched around his
dick and screamed his name.
Fucking bliss.
She was one hundred
percent bliss to him, and he joined her in the land of ecstasy. After
they came down from their high, he scooped her up onto the bed,
wrapped her in his arms, and spooned her, his arm wedged between her
full breasts and her bigger-than-a-basketball belly.
Eight inches.
You’d think eight
inches — well, let’s be honest, Clay was more than eight inches —
would be enough to rattle her body into labor.
Julia laughed to
herself as she brushed her teeth a little later.
If that were the case,
every day of her pregnancy would have sent her into labor. Call her a
horny pregnant woman, or just called her married to the sexiest man
alive. Either way, they hadn’t slowed down during her pregnancy.
Their
all-over-each-other-ness had surprised her, but it also hadn’t. Her
love with Clay Nichols had been borne from the physical. It had
started in a ravaging, intense, out-of-this-world, one-night stand.
Their chemistry had staggered them both, and they’d simply had to
explore the bounds of their connection. They’d explored it so far
and deep they fell into mad, forever love. And they’d never been
able to keep their hands to themselves.
Still, she couldn’t
deny that she’d hoped a good hard fucking would wake this sleeping
baby and start the earthquakes in her body. Past forty weeks, she
felt like an elephant. Not to mention, she was so ready to meet her
baby.
They still didn’t
know the gender, nor had they agreed on a name for a girl. They had
tossed around a myriad of options for boys, from Alex to Ethan to
Daniel, and even to simple and straightforward names like Tom and
Jake. Finally, they had settled on Ben for a boy, as they both liked
the simplicity and classiness of that name. But when it came to
girls’ names? They were oil and water. Julia preferred names with a
certain elegance to them, like Elizabeth or Charlotte, while her
husband favored a more modern flare, like Hayley or Bailey or Phoebe.
As she spat out her
toothpaste, she tested the names again in her head.
Then she doubled over
as Baby Nichols administered a whopping kick to her massive
midsection.
She raced back into the
bedroom.
Wait.
Make that waddled. “I
think it might be happening,” she said, her eyes wider than
saucers, hope blossoming like a massive balloon, as she clasped both
hands on her belly.
Dropping the book he’d
been reading, Clay sat up straight in bed. Placed a hand on her
belly. “Should we go to the hospital right now?” he asked, a
touch of nerves in his voice, but also that calm reassurance that she
was used to from her strong, sturdy man.
“Let’s just give it
a few minutes to make sure these are real contractions,” she said,
perching on the edge of the bed. She was wearing only a flowy tank
top and underwear.
“I’ll get ready as
you time them.” Clay jumped out of bed, pulled on boxer briefs,
jeans and a T-shirt, and grabbed the bag for the hospital.
But ten minutes later,
her belly was quiet as a library. Baby Nichols appeared to be
snoozing soundly.
Julia sighed heavily.
“Didn’t work,” she said and she settled into bed in the dark of
the night. A breeze drifted into their Greenwich Village apartment,
the same one she’d moved into a few years ago when she showed up
and surprised him, accepting his invitation to move all the way
across the country and start a life with him. It was the best
decision she’d ever made. Well, besides the decision to spend an
evening with him after closing time in her bar — that fateful night
ignited this passionate and everlasting love.
“Can you blame the
baby?” Clay asked softly, as he rubbed a hand on her stomach. “Must
be nice inside there.”
She swatted him
playfully, then fell asleep in his arms.
Julia had started
maternity leave from Speakeasy two weeks ago, but the sluggish pace
of the final days of her pregnancy sent her back to the bar she
partially owned for an evening to visit with some of her coworkers.
She nursed an ice tea and chatted with her friend Danya, who served
up a Long Distance Lover, one of Julia’s popular drinks, to a new
customer.
Julia checked her
watch, and saw that it was near ten. Since Clay had a late dinner
with a client, he’d said he’d stop by on his way home so they
could share a cab downtown. As she looked to the door, eager for the
familiar sight of her husband, Danya motioned for her to come closer.
“Can you cover for me for two minutes? The other gal is in the
stockroom, and I have to run to the ladies room,” she said.
“Absolutely. Shoo,”
Julia said, grateful to be busy. After hustling behind the bar, she
served a few quick drinks to the remaining customers, loving being in
her element. As she poured a vodka over ice, she heard a voice this
still sent shivers up her spine.
“I’ll have
whatever’s on tap.”
She turned around to
look in the gorgeous brown eyes of her handsome husband, as he
recited the first words he ever said to her the night she met him at
Cubic Z in San Francisco.
She raised her
eyebrows, a nod of recognition to their shared moment at a bar years
ago. Then she gave it back to him, as she poured him a beer from the
tap, just like she did that first night. “When it comes right down
to it, a man should drink what the bartender gives him,” she said,
sliding a glass across the bar.
She stopped short, her
jaw falling open as she felt something unmistakeable. “It’s real
now. You need to get me to the hospital. My water just broke.”
After seven hours, his
wife was sweaty, tired, panting, and still the most beautiful woman
he’d ever seen. He gripped her hand, as the nurse urged her on.
“Almost there,” the nurse said, and with one last triumphant
push, the sweetest sound ever fell on his ears.
The first cries of his
newborn baby.
Tears welled up in his
eyes, and the nurse pronounced, “It’s a girl.”
Those tears turned to
waterworks. He would’ve been happy with a boy or girl, but there
was just something so special to a daddy about a baby girl.