Nine Month Contract, page 24
She’s still not showing in her abdomen, as far as I can tell. And the past couple of weeks, I’ve made a conscious effort not to discuss the pregnancy because it seems easier to live in this little vacuum of sex we have going. For now, at least.
“Sit by me,” Everly says, dragging her over to the table. Our eyes meet as she lowers herself into the seat across from me.
Everly sets about introducing Trista to the whole crew here tonight. It’s honestly a lot of Max’s friends from Boulder, who have become my friends as well throughout the years. They all have kids and shit, but they seem to enjoy whatever it is my brothers and I represent to them...reliving their single days, maybe?
There’s Dean, Max’s financial adviser turned friend, then his friends Miles and Sam, who I know well because the two of them run Tire Depot in Boulder, and we do all our truck service work through there. And finally, there’s Max’s closest childhood friend, who I’ve known forever, Josh. These guys’ wives are also super close, and they all have more kids than I can even keep track of these days.
“This one is a doctor,” Everly adds, pointing at Josh.
“What kind of doctor are you?” Trista asks curiously.
“Family medicine,” Josh adds with a polite smile. “I have a private practice with my wife in Boulder, who does more mental health stuff. We have three daughters as well, which means... I drink a lot of whiskey.” He sips the amber liquid from his rocks glass and shakes his head.
Jesus. I’d forgotten Josh had a third kid. There is no way I could handle three kids. And three daughters? Forget it. I already struggle to say no to Everly. If I had three girls, it would be mass chaos on the mountain. Luckily, Trista is only pregnant with the one baby. That’s all I’m interested in.
A thought strikes me that I hadn’t considered before. My lawyer asked me about it during our first meeting, but I brushed it off, certain I was making the right decision. He asked if I decide someday that I want another kid, would I want Trista to be the surrogate again? Obviously, it’d be nice because then the babies would be full siblings, but I felt pretty certain that as a single father, one would be all I could handle.
But if I changed my mind, would she be up for it? Would we conceive the baby the old-fashioned way then? My dick stirs in my jeans at that thought.
“Dr. Richardson’s niece Claire is one of my best friends,” Everly says with a smile, ripping me out of my crazy mind. “She’s a year younger than me though, so she won’t graduate until next year. Maybe she’ll join me in Ireland!”
“I’m afraid she’s already decided she’s going to University of Colorado Boulder like her auntie,” Josh says with a wink.
“Wouldn’t that be nice,” Max interjects, shooting a flat look at his daughter.
Everly shoots me a sheepish smile, clearly looking for a lifeline, but I’m not going to be the one to save her. I’m just as miserable as Max over this Ireland move.
Everly’s voice is soft when she replies, “At least it will be easy for me to visit her when I come home in the summers.”
“And at Christmas,” I press, my eyes narrowing on my niece.
“And any other holiday breaks they give you,” Luke adds with a scowl.
Everly rolls her eyes. “We’ll see how it goes. It’s a long flight.”
“Your dad can afford first class,” I snap, my jaw clenching with irritation. This niece of mine seems far too eager to get out of Boulder, and I fucking hate it.
Everly smiles nervously and then directs her focus back to Trista. “Have you felt the baby kick yet?”
Trista’s cheeks flush as she keeps her hands on the table, gripping the bottle of water she brought. “No, I haven’t. The doctor said my placenta was on the top or something, so that can sometimes make it harder to feel movement until the baby gets bigger.”
She finds my eyes and looks a little nervous, so I nod my head at her, silently telling her it’s okay.
“Kate had that same thing with Tucker,” Miles says with a nod to Trista, and her eyes light up, clearly grateful for someone else at this table to have some experience with that.
“We did not experience that with the twins,” Sam says with a laugh. “It was like a jungle gym in Maggie’s belly.”
“Aw,” Everly says, splaying her hand out on the table. “I hope I can feel the baby kick before I go.”
“Everly,” I chastise as I shake my head at her. “That’s not appropriate.”
“It’s not?” Everly looks horrified and snaps her attention to Trista. “I’m so sorry. I felt my stepmom Cozy’s tummy all the time when she was pregnant with Ethan. I didn’t know it’d be weird.”
“It’s fine,” Trista says and shoots me a scathing look like I came down on Everly too hard.
I’m just trying to protect her. This table is full of people with traditional families and traditional situations. Sure, maybe some of them got pregnant before marriage, but none of them got pregnant with someone they weren’t in love with. And certainly none of them got pregnant with someone they were paying to have their baby. This group and my family can be a fucking lot. If you give them an inch, they will take ten miles. Everly doesn’t need to be feeling Trista’s stomach. Plus, if anyone is going to get to feel the baby move, it better be me.
“Are you going to find out the sex, Uncle Wyatt?” Everly asks, her blue eyes wide and animated like a Disney princess.
I lift my shoulders and grunt.
Everyone stares at me in dead silence, but it’s Trista who answers, “That’s a yes.”
All eyes swerve from me back to Trista, and I have to admit, even I’m a little shocked she knows my answer. I haven’t said the words out loud yet. I tilt my head and eye her curiously.
“You speak Wyatt?” Calder asks, gaping at her.
Trista laughs and leans back in her chair. “Oh yeah... I’m fluent in grunts, growls, and heavy sighs. So yes, totally fluent in Wyatt.”
Luke’s grave eyes hit me. “She has much knowledge.”
This causes the whole table to burst out laughing, and Everly’s eyes fill with tears that she gets every time something really excites her. It’s a sight that makes me really happy, and it’s at that moment that I realize I’m smiling like a loon. Things with Trista are going remarkably well...even with the addition of sex. Who would have thought?
Everly breaks up the laughter with an excited gasp. “Uncle Wyatt, can we do a gender reveal party when you find out? It can be a gender reveal and a baby shower. Oh my God, it will be so much fun. I’ll do everything. You don’t have to lift a finger.”
I groan and shake my head. Gender reveal parties are so fucking extra. Plus, those kinds of parties are always more for women than men. Why would I want to sign up to make a spectacle of the gender of the baby I’m having with a woman I’m not even married to?
“It can be the last time we can all get together before I go.” Everly begs and sticks her lip out. “Pretty please?”
“Fine,” I grumble, hating myself for being so fucking weak.
She cheers, and I watch Trista force a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. So much for protecting her because there is no way in hell Everly won’t demand Trista be there.
“Are we done talking about diapers now?” Calder whines, sounding like our nephew, Ethan. “I came here to play some cards and try to win back some of the money Everly has won off me basically her whole life.”
“I learn from the best.” She smirks proudly at me, and I watch Trista’s eyes warm on Everly for a moment before we get back to our game.
* * *
“Damn, you have all the luck!” Dean says, tossing his cards down on the table as Trista shows pocket aces. “Seriously, you’ve had pocket aces twice tonight. Are you sure you’re not hiding cards?”
“I am many things, but definitely not a cheater.” Trista eyes Dean harshly as she leans across the table and drags the chips toward her ample bosom.
My eyes flash around to make sure no one is checking her out like I am. Luckily, everyone passes the test with flying colors, so I don’t have to punch them in the face.
Whiskey was a bad choice tonight.
I’ve only had three, but they’ve only served to add fuel to the fire that is my desire for the lucky girl over there.
Trista stands up from the table. “I need to refill my water. Can I get anyone anything?”
“I’m good,” Everly says as she collects all the cards and shuffles.
I watch Trista move through my house, and my cock twitches at the sight of her. The last time she was here in my home was our insemination nights. Now, I get to come inside her and not fucking ranch cups.
I get up from the table and follow her out to the kitchen. She stands in front of a bowl of popcorn, and I move beside her, my arm brushing hers, the skin-on-skin heat sending a jolt of need through my body.
“You still owe me for the chickens,” I say quietly, my eyes glancing back to see if anyone is watching us. I’m pleased to see everyone’s focus is on Calder as he shows off some new ink he got last week.
“That’s some weird dirty talk, but I could be into it.” She pops a kernel into her mouth as she turns around and presses her ass to my counter.
What I wouldn’t give to just grab her by the thighs, hoist her up there, and have my way with her.
My cock throbs in my jeans.
She smirks and moves over to the island, opening the drawer to reveal the dressing cups still stored there. “Do you want to use one of these for old times’ sake?”
“Fuck no.” I move to the island with her like we’re two magnets being pulled together.
She gets a conspiratorial glint in her eye. “The way we do it now works pretty good, I guess.”
An image of her pretty pink pussy with my cum dripping out of her hits me like a ton of bricks, and I have to bite back my groan at just the memory of that.
Every other day isn’t enough.
Her eyes narrow speculatively on me. “Why didn’t you want me to come tonight?”
My brows furrow at her question. “You mean, besides the erection I’m currently having to fight off?”
“That’s not the reason.” She licks her lips and tilts her head at me. “It’s the same reason you wanted them not to talk to me when I first moved up here. More than just them being wild mountain men.”
My heart beats slower as her probing question nudges a bruise I like to pretend doesn’t exist. A bruise that I’ve spent the past several years trying to push away.
“We’re going to go show the guys the bench Calder made!” Everly calls out, and I look over to see everyone is up from the table and making their way out the door.
“What?” I ask, not sure I heard what my niece said because my mind was going down a very dark path.
“We’re going to head out to Grandpa’s bench. We’ll be back in five...maybe ten minutes.” Everly shoots me a strange look and then shoves Calder and Luke toward the door.
“I’ve already seen the bench,” Luke whines.
“I made the fucker, and even I don’t want to look at it,” Calder adds.
“Just go,” Everly snaps before closing the door behind her. Their voices fade in the distance, and I stand there frozen, unsure what to do with this coveted alone time.
“Do you want to go with them?” I ask, swallowing the knot in my throat. My question is loaded with the answer that I can’t quite bring myself to give her.
“Why would I want to go with them?”
I shrug and look down at the counter, refusing to meet her eyes. Refusing to let myself see the interest that might be there for someone other than me. “Calder and Luke are a lot more fun than me. Younger, more talkative, less grumpy and controlling. Definitely less smothering.”
My eyes lift to hers, unsure of what I will see. Will I see pity? Regret? Confusion? Intrigue? Any of those reactions to my fucked-up thoughts about my brothers are valid. My relationship with them is a confusing one that even I can’t work out. I would kill for them. Literally kill. And there’s no one else I want to spend time with. Like Max’s friends are fine and all, but the ease and comfort I feel living near my brothers all the time gives me a sense of peace that I crave to feel right in this world. To stop worrying all the time.
But the comparison game I play in my head as a direct result of our past with women, one woman in particular, is something I still can’t seem to get over, no matter how much wood I chop.
“I’m warming up to the smother.” Trista’s hand flattens over top of mine, and when she finally looks up at me, her eyes blazing with that look, the one that I have become painfully familiar with, the one that I picture with my hand around my cock on our off days... I don’t think... I just do.
My lips crash into hers, my tongue thrusting deep into her mouth as my hands ravage her whole fucking body like I haven’t touched her in years, not hours. I drag her down the hallway into my bedroom, sliding my hands up her dress to cup her full ass. My fingers squeeze greedily into the meat of her.
“We have to be quick.” She gasps, pulling away for air as I back her up against my dresser and pull her panties down.
“I don’t do quick,” I growl, standing back up to help her undo my jeans and free my erection from the confines of my pants.
“It’s quick, or it’s nothing,” she says, and my entire body stills when she wraps her delicate fingers around my length and hits me with a look that says she’s not fucking around with this demand.
The desperation in her eyes has me fighting back a smile. She wants this. She wants me. Maybe just as bad as I want her, and that makes me feel more like a man than quite possibly anything I’ve ever done in my life.
“Whatever you say, Lucky.” I peck her on the lips, nipping softly at her as I grab her by the legs and hoist her up on my dresser. The lamp and my loose change crash to the floor, but I don’t bother picking them up because I’m already balls deep in her.
“Oh God,” she moans loudly, and the prickle of need in my balls ratchets up to an all-new level as my bare shaft slides into her wetness. “Wyatt, holy shit—”
I take one of my hands to cover her mouth. “You have to be quiet,” I rasp and hate myself for it because I love nothing more than making her scream. “If anyone outside hears you, it will fucking haunt me.”
The ache in my gut over anyone hearing her this way makes me feel crazy inside, and before I have a second to unpack that fucked-up thought, I pull out and thrust back into her, driving my frustration into her like she’s the magic pill that will heal me.
She whimpers against my palm and shakes her head like she can’t possibly control her voice, so I look around my dresser for something to silence her, and an idea comes to mind.
“Do you trust me?”
She nods against my palm, so I release her and reach down to my jeans, which are hanging off my ass. The thwack of my belt echoes in my room as I slide it out and fist the strap in two hands in front of her.
“Bite,” I command, my cock surging at the mental image of it alone.
She hesitates for a moment before her eyes flash with a fire I haven’t seen before. When she parts her wet lips and lets me put it in her mouth, her teeth clenching down the way her pussy currently clenches around my cock, I feel myself begin to seep inside her already.
“When you need to scream, you just bite down on that...got it?”
She makes a sexy little noise and nods, looking so fucking hot with that strip of beat-up leather between her lips that I have to tell my own damn self to be quiet as I yank her to the edge of my dresser and pump deeper inside her.
Her cowboy boots dig into my back as she splays her hands out on the dresser for balance, holding on for dear life as the belt buckle jingles with every one of my thrusts. It’s a heady combination. Seeing her all open and trusting...willing to do whatever I tell her.
Wanting me and only me.
I’ve had my fair share of experiences with women. But it’s always pretty vanilla and brief. It scratches the itch good enough, but what I have with Trista...it’s beyond satisfying. It’s all-consuming. And the more we do it, the more I want it.
I realize that having sex this often creates the opportunity for feelings to come into play. But with Trista...it feels safe because there’s literally a contract between us that guarantees this end date. That concrete fact gives me a sense of freedom I’ve never felt with a woman. For the next few months, I can just be me, and she can just be her, and when this is done, we both go our separate ways. End of.
A strangled sob murmurs from her lips as I feel her climax gripping me, milking me, begging for me to blow it inside her. And when she drops the belt from her mouth, I push into the hilt and let myself explode, my body shaking on top of hers as I press my head into her shoulder, inhaling her rosy scent like a drug I can’t get enough of.
This is the best sex of my life. And I venture to guess the best of hers too, based on the teeth marks she left on my belt.
By the time everyone returns from outside, we’re back in the kitchen, munching on popcorn like I didn’t just fuck her like an animal in my room.
“You two playing still or what?” Max barks, taking his seat back at the table.
“We’re coming,” I snap back, and the smile that lights up my face over that double entendre is embarrassing.
We begin to walk over, and she inhales sharply and grabs my arm...her nose wrinkling as she hisses my name.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, worried I might have hurt her in there. Fuck, could I have hurt the baby? She said she talked to the doctor about sex, and they said it was completely fine.
She stands on her tiptoes to murmur in my ear, “I forgot my panties in your room, and it’s dripping down my leg.”
