September 3rd, 2016
Just as I’d hoped, we’d met in the middle. Halfway between our respective homes in Montana and California, Ivy and I had settled on a place in Southern Oregon. It was off the grid and just enough distance from the hustle and bustle of LA and the painful memories that lay within Cold. We’d found our own little slice of secluded heaven with a gated entrance, a state-of-the-art security system, and our vetted security team keeping us safe.
Ivy had been campaigning for Oregon from the very start of our home search.
She’d been convinced I’d love the state and the people.
“Oregonians are like Canadians, Levi,” she’d said. “Impossibly nice and they wear sandals with wool socks. There isn’t a person in the world who can wear wool socks and not be happy.”
California girl at heart, Ivy hadn’t really experienced a bad winter in Cold, Montana. And trust me, even with wool socks on, Chief Pulse wasn’t impossibly nice or happy.
But none of it really mattered. Although Ivy had felt she’d needed to convince me on Oregon, I would have gone any-fucking-where she wanted.
A house, whatever state it was in, was just a fucking place to put our stuff.
But my home? Well, that was all Ivy.
Wherever she was, that was exactly where I needed to be.
An oceanfront and very secluded property on Cannon Beach, our new house was too fucking big. It had five bedrooms, four bathrooms, and a kitchen that felt like the entire town of Cold could fit inside.
Don’t get me wrong, it also had big, floor-to-ceiling windows that provided breathtaking views of the water, but it had more space than we really needed.
More space than anyone probably needed, to be honest.
But once Ivy had laid her eyes on the giant clawfoot tub inside the private master bathroom with panoramic views of the ocean, there was no other option.
She wanted it, and I wanted to give her everything she wanted.
I never would have thought a bathtub would be the catalyst for a big-ass real estate purchase, but I also never would have thought a lot of fucking things that had happened in my life would have actually happened.
I’d given up on predicting the future and found peace in enjoying every minute of the present with the most beautiful, stubborn, feisty woman I’d ever laid eyes on.
Lately, I’d just been striving to go with the flow and savor all of the good memories Ivy and I were creating together.
Some days were harder than others.
Some days, the painful shit of my past would try to hover over me like a thunderstorm. And some days, I’d see Ivy struggling with grief and sadness over the loss of her sister.
But the bad days were coming fewer and farther between, and the good days, the beautiful moments we shared, eclipsed all the rest.
I glanced at the clock and saw it was nearing dinnertime.
We’d been unpacking boxes and settling into our new home for the past two days, and since Ivy had woken up this morning, she’d looked exhausted.
But, damn, my woman was determined and stubborn to her core.
For the past several hours, I’d attempted to get her to sit down and rest, but she kept mentioning shit about nesting. Pregnancy hormones were ruling her life at this point, and apparently, she wouldn’t rest until the house was perfect for the babies’ arrival.
We still had time. That was a fact.
She was six months pregnant with two little bambinos inside her ever-growing belly. Ivy’s normally petite ankles were swelling by the minute, and I prayed we still had a good three months before our children made their big debut into the world.
But reasoning had no place in a multiples pregnancy.
Stubborn or not, Ivy needed to rest, preferably surrounded by warm water and bubbles inside that clawfoot tub she loved so much.
“Baby!” I called over my shoulder from the master bedroom. “Where are you?”
No answer.
Last I’d seen her, Ivy had been organizing cutlery and Tupperware in the kitchen.
This shelf can wait, I thought and set down my hammer and nails before striding out of the bedroom in search of my pregnant wife.
Well, she wasn’t actually my wife, but it wasn’t for my lack of asking.
I’d proposed to Ivy more times than I could count over the past month, and every time she’d told me no.
She was hell-bent on waiting until after the babies were born.
Some shit about not wanting to be fat on our wedding day.
But she wasn’t fat. She was pregnant. Beautifully pregnant with my two kids inside her. Honestly, in my eyes, Ivy had never looked more beautiful or sexy as she did right fucking now, belly swollen and skin glowing with our babies. But, as I’d been informed, I had absolutely no say when it came to the importance of wedding fashion.
Once I reached the downstairs, I passed the dining room and the kitchen, and still, no sign of Ivy.
“Baby!” I called again, and this time, I actually got a response.
“Out here! On the deck!”
Walking into the living room, I found two of the French doors opened up and letting in the late afternoon rays of the sun and the fresh breeze from the water.
And there, out on the deck overlooking the sea, stood Ivy, moving around white Adirondack chairs like a complete lunatic who seemed to have forgotten she was six months pregnant.
Her hair was red again, the blond dye making its exit after growing out three or four inches. While it had grown, so had Ivy’s emotional stability. The change had been needed then, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized looking like Camilla wasn’t a bad thing. Now, the long fiery locks lay down past her shoulders, shimmering beneath the sun.
Memories of the feisty woman who had sped into Cold, Montana with a lead foot leading her way filled my head, and I smiled.
It all felt like so long ago, and it was poignant reminder of not only all that we’d been through, but how far we’d come too.
“What are you doing?” I questioned as I stepped outside. “Stop moving that shit around, Ivy. You’re too pregnant to be doing that.”
She rolled her eyes. “The chairs aren’t that heavy, and I won’t know where I want them until I test out a few spots.”
“Baby, they’re just deck chairs. They can go any-fucking-where.”
She glanced over her shoulder and narrowed her eyes. “They can’t just go any-fucking-where, Levi. They need to be perfect before the babies get here.”
I wanted to laugh at the absurdity. “I don’t think the babies will get much use out of those chairs.”
Her narrowed eyes turned to a full-on glare as she stopped fiddling with those goddamn chairs and turned on her heels to face me.
Glare be damned, I couldn’t stop myself from drinking in the sight of her.
Her gorgeous and still-growing tits nearly spilling out of her tank top, bare legs, and swollen belly protruding over her unbuttoned jean shorts, she looked so beautiful it made my chest ache.
“Levi,” she said, but I could barely hear her. I was too busy soaking up every little detail of her beauty. “I know it’s crazy, but I need everything to be perfect.”
“Everything is perfect,” I said and stepped toward her. “Especially you. You’re so fucking perfect.”
She rolled her eyes and clucked her tongue. “Stop trying to be all sweet right now.”
“I can’t help it.” I placed my hands on her tiny hips and stared down at the round ball of her belly that separated us for a few loving moments. I smiled and lifted my gaze to hers. “You’re so beautiful, Ivy.”
“You’re just saying that,” she retorted, and I shook my head without hesitation.
“You know me better than that,” I said and pressed a soft kiss to her unsuspecting lips. “I don’t just say anything, and when I do say something, I mean it.”
The round apples of her cheeks blushed pink, and my heart flipped and turned beneath my ribs.
“How about we take a little break?” I suggested and moved my hands to the tight skin of her belly, gently rubbing tiny circles with my thumbs. “I’ll run a bath for you and order some takeout, and we can spend the rest of the night just enjoying being in our new home.”
“Can we eat on the deck?”
“We can eat wherever you want.” I nodded and kissed her lips.
“Can we order Mexican?”
“Anything you want, baby.”
“You’re very good at being accommodating,” she teased. I just grinned.
“Considering you’re carrying around not one but two of my kids, I think you deserve all of the accommodation I can manage.”
She quirked a brow. “And how much can you manage?”
“What exactly do you have in mind?”
“A foot massage.”
“While you’re in the bath or after?”
“I get to choose?” she exclaimed. “Holy moly, I love accommodating Levi! I should stay pregnant forever!”
I smirked, but then, lips to hers, I slid my tongue across the seam of her mouth until she let me push past her lips and take a taste. She moaned and wrapped her arms around my neck, and when I pulled away, those full, pink lips of hers were pressed out into a little pout.
“You’re an asshole.”
“What?” I questioned. “Why?”
“Because you get me all horny and shit, and then you stop!” She shoved at my chest, but I grabbed her wrist and held it gently.
“You know you can ask for something else besides a foot massage…”
“What do you mean?” She scrunched up her little nose. “Like a back massage?”
“Nuh-uh.” I shook my head. “A clit massage.”
Her eyes went wide, and those cheeks of hers flushed pink again.
“My mouth. Your pussy,” I whispered. “Doesn’t that sound nice?”
“Yeah. Okay,” she said and nearly dragged me back toward the house. “Move it or lose it, buddy. We need to get upstairs, and we need to do it right fucking now!”
I grinned.
Besides the need to make everything perfect, there was one other constant with pregnant Ivy.
Sex.
She loved it. Needed it. Wanted it all day, every day.
And hell if I didn’t love every goddamn second of it.
By the time we reached the bedroom, she was already shucking out of her tank top, jean shorts, and panties, and kicking her flip-flops off her feet and across the room.
I grinned, and I followed her lead and removed all of my clothes.
She stood before me, and my cock grew rock hard at the sight.
Soft, bare skin and round, pregnant belly. Full, heavy tits and erect, rosebud nipples. She was a fucking goddess.
I pitied every man in the world because they’d never get to experience the sight of Ivy naked, aroused, and with so much fucking heat in her eyes, I thought she might hold the power to burst my skin into flames.
“Beautiful,” I whispered. “So goddamn beautiful.”
She blushed at my words, and I licked my lips as I moved toward her.
“Turn around, baby,” I demanded. “Hands on the bed to steady yourself and put that gorgeous fucking ass of yours in the air.”
She did as I asked, and I just about growled when I saw her splayed out like that for me.
With my hands on her hips and my hard cock pressed against her ass, I leaned forward and started placing hot kisses down her back, her ass, and when I moved down between her legs, I leaned forward and pressed my face to her little cunt.
She was wet. So fucking wet.
And I had to take a taste.
With one long lick of my tongue, I groaned when her sweetness assaulted my senses. “God, you taste so good.”
I took another taste.
And then another.
And then another.
She moaned and whimpered, and her hips started moving of their own accord.
Her pussy glistened and beckoned for my mouth, but I knew my baby was too worked up to take things slow.
She needed it fast.
She needed it hard.
And she needed it right fucking now. Trust me, I was more than happy to oblige.
Back to my feet, I grasped her small hips and slowly eased myself inside of her.
She let out a guttural moan, and her pussy milked the head of my cock. It felt so damn good I had to shut my eyes briefly and grit my teeth to regain my focus.
“This what you want?” I asked, thrusting forward a little, and she responded by pushing her ass back toward me, urging my cock to go deeper. I grinned. “You need it, baby?”
She mewled, and I responded by pushing myself to the hilt in one hard but smooth drive forward. “Oh God, yes, Levi,” she said through another moan. “Keep going. Please, for the love of God, don’t stop. Never stop.”
I reached forward and let her full, heavy tits fill my big hands, and I couldn’t stop the accompanying growl that left my lungs when I felt her lush fucking curves against my palms.
“More,” she begged, and I was damn near drunk off my need for her.
I drove forward again and again and again.
And when her moans grew louder and raspier and delirious with pleasure, I lost it.
I couldn’t hold back.
I let myself chase pleasure, both hers and mine, and I didn’t stop until her pussy clenched tight around me, rippling against my shaft with her climax, and I was emptying myself deep inside of her on a guttural groan.
Heaven. Pure fucking heaven.