chapter FORTY-FIVE
SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 11, 1978
That husband of mine is as stubborn as they come. Doesn’t he know that when a woman asks for sex, she really wants it? I can see it in his eyes, he wants it, too, yet he’s so hard-headed. Hmm. I’ll have to think of a plan.
Curtis had finished the dishes, helping out because Lorrie had mentioned her ankles were swollen, and rather than let her steamroll right over him and do the dishes herself, he had forced her to go sit down and put her feet up.
“Curtis!”
At the sound of his name, Curtis dropped the dish towel and ran through the living room and down the short hall to their bedroom. Throwing open the door, he came to an abrupt halt when he found his wife sitting on the bed, looking…
“Where’re your clothes?” he asked, bewildered.
Lorrie nodded toward the floor. “Down there.”
“And why did you take them off?”
“Because if you’re not gonna willingly make love to me, then I’m not gonna willingly wear clothes anymore. See how you like that.”
He grunted, then moved toward the pile of clothes she’d discarded on the floor.
“Don’t you dare touch those,” she huffed.
“Woman.” He took a deep breath, doing his best not to look at her beautiful, very naked body.
“You’re not gonna hurt me. The doctor said it’s perfectly okay to have sex at this stage of the pregnancy.”
He knew that. She’d told him that several dozen times, but now that he could see the slight protrusion of her belly, he was scared that he was going to hurt her or the baby. Why it had been different before she was showing, he couldn’t explain, but it had.
“If you don’t find me attractive anymore, just say so,” she said, a slight hesitation in her tone.
He met her gaze, frowned. “Baby, trust me, that ain’t it.” The evidence was throbbing incessantly behind his zipper. Even fully clothed, the woman aroused him with a simple smile. Without a stitch of clothing… It was highly likely that he was going to bust a nut in his jeans.
“Then what is it?” she questioned.
Figuring she wasn’t going to give up until he explained, Curtis walked around to his side of the bed, then climbed on beside her.
“I don’t wanna hurt you or the baby,” he told her honestly, lying on his side and facing her.
“You won’t.”
“You don’t know that,” he argued. No one knew why she’d miscarried their first baby, but he did not want to be responsible for doing something that might cause that again.
“Curtis.” Her tone was no longer soft and sweet. “I’m pregnant, which means my hormones are all over the damn place. I’m horny, and I’m tired of you thinking I’m gonna break. I’m sixteen weeks. The doctor has assured me that everything is going well with the baby. We can make love.”
He found her rant adorable. So adorable that he couldn’t resist kissing her just to get her to shut up. That was his first mistake, because kissing her had always driven him stark raving mad. This time was no exception.
When she managed to crawl on top of him, straddling his hips, he knew he was done for. Resisting her these last few weeks had been hell. He’d been jacking off repeatedly, always thinking about her when he did. Before she was pregnant, Lorrie had been stunning. Now that she was … she was the most beautiful, radiant woman in the world, and he wanted nothing more than to make love to her every minute of every day.
Lorrie reached for the button on his jeans, then worked it free before lowering his zipper.
He groaned, pretending that he wasn’t enjoying every second of it.
When she started to work the denim down his hips, he helped her along, and the next thing he knew, she was once again straddling him, only this time there was nothing between them. He slipped a hand between their bodies and grazed his knuckle against her clitoris, loving the soft moan that escaped her.
“Feels good,” she whispered, pressing more firmly against his finger.
With his free hand, he pulled her head down, pressing his lips to hers once more. He savored the sweet taste of her, his tongue gliding against hers while he worked her into a frenzy.
“More,” she said against his mouth. “Inside me, please.”
For the love of God. There was no way in the world he could resist this woman.
Before she could ease down over him, he gently shifted her to her back and positioned himself between her legs.
“Promise you’ll tell me if I’m hurtin’ you?”
“I promise,” she whispered.
As he slid into the hot depths of her body, he was overcome by sensations, so many that he thought for a moment his head was going to explode.
“What’s wrong?” Lorrie asked when Curtis stilled inside her.
“Nothin’.”
“Doesn’t sound like nothin’,” she said, laughing at the strangled sound of his voice.
“Don’t laugh,” he warned.
That only made her laugh harder.
“I’m gonna come, Lorrie. Keep it up and I’m gonna come before you ever get yours.”
That hushed her right up. She’d been waiting too long for this. For several weeks now, Curtis had been finding one way or another to put her off when she mentioned sex. She knew he was worried. She’d been worried, too. For the first few months, she’d spent every minute of every day scared to death. Because of her previous miscarriage, she was seeing the doctor more regularly than if she hadn’t lost a baby, and each time she’d gone, the doctor had assured her the baby was doing just fine. In fact, the baby was on target to be as big as Curtis eventually, which, honestly, was scary in its own right. She wasn’t all that big, so having a big baby…
Okay, so she’d have to think more about that later.
“Make love to me,” she whispered, framing his face as he hovered above her. “Slowly.”
His hips began to rock, and Lorrie relaxed, holding on to him although he kept his arms locked so that he wasn’t pressing against her belly. It was more proof that he was scared he would hurt her or the baby.
“Turn over,” she insisted when it was clear he was trying too hard not to hurt her.
“What?” he asked, his hips stilling.
“I said turn over. On your back.”
Shifting her legs, she forced his erection to fall from her body, which resulted in a disappointed grunt from Curtis, but he did what she asked. Finally.
“Now don’t you dare move,” she commanded, once again straddling his hips.
She leaned down, kissing his lips, trying to get him to focus on her.
“Touch me, Curtis. Put your hands on me.”
His hands slid up her back, and she was surprised she didn’t purr like a cat, they felt so good against her skin. While she kissed him, her tongue stroking his, she tried to control the urgency. With Curtis, it wasn’t easy. She wanted him so badly, needed him to do all those naughty things he’d done to her before, but she knew that would be pushing it.
When he was good and distracted, she slid her hand between their bodies and guided him home.
“Oh, baby,” he groaned into her mouth. “I love bein’ inside you.”
Lorrie sat up, her hands on his chest as she began to rock her hips, doing all the work while he watched. The man was so damn sexy. All that sun-bronzed skin covering sleek muscle, her name tattooed proudly on his chest. He was a work of art.
At thirty-two, Curtis was even sexier than he’d been at nineteen, and back then, she hadn’t thought it possible.
“So beautiful,” he breathed, his hands on her hips.
Lorrie began rocking faster, taking him deeper, until she knew he wouldn’t be able to handle slow and easy anymore. He urged her forward, and she leaned down, her breasts crushed to his chest as he began to thrust into her from beneath. It didn’t take much before she was hanging on the razor-sharp edge of bliss, wishing he would go over with her.
Lorrie met his gaze, hanging on as long as she could. “Come for me, Curtis.”
He groaned, thrusting harder, faster, until her orgasm detonated, nearly leveling her at the same time he grunted his release.