“You look beautiful. Anyone who sees you will know you’re pregnant. You’re glowing. You’ve never been more beautiful.”
His words went a little ways to making me feel better, but I was a little more focused on how much he liked me being pregnant. The moment my body started changing, from my bigger boobs to my swollen belly, he was extra attentive to it. I couldn’t complain really—Porter could pay my body as much attention as he wanted and I’d always be more than ok with it. But as much as I loved his personal and private adoration of my new body, it didn’t always make up for the fact that I wasn’t used to having this much extra belly.
I took in a deep breath and tried to shake off the ugliness I could feel coming over me. I promised myself that tonight would be fun, drama free, and nothing but a good time. And here I was ruining it before it had even started. Besides, it really was only important that Porter liked the way I looked anyway.
“Thank you,” I whispered as I pressed a kiss to his stubbled cheek. “Are you ready for tonight? How many lap dances are you going to buy Patrick?”
“As many as he wants, I suppose.” He turned from me and left the bathroom, heading towards our fantastic closet that still made me smile every time I walked into it. I bit my lip to try and keep my thought in my head. I did not want to come across as the jealous wife. Who was I kidding? Porter, in a strip club? I decided to let my mouth open.
“And how many lap dances will you be getting?” I asked, really trying not to sound too needy or jealous. I was going for the relaxed wife who didn’t care if some mostly naked woman rubbed her not-pregnant, flat-stomached, body all over my husband.
“I don’t know,” I heard him say from within the closet. “One, maybe two if I’m lucky.”
And then my mouth really opened—in shock. I turned quickly towards the door to see him walking out of the closet, adjusting his outfit. He wore black suit pants with a white button up shirt and a black blazer. The top two buttons of his shirt were open, and the little V of skin that showed was just enough of a tease that my eyes were instantly drawn there.
I blinked at him a few times—the first few were to make sure that what I was seeing was real, that my husband was really that delectable. The last few were to emphasize my astonishment.
“Two lap dances? I’m sorry,” I placed my hand on my hip and cocked it to the side, hoping I looked and sounded as annoyed as I felt. . “You’re going to let two women grind up on you?”
“No, just one.” He winked as he walked up to me and, without hesitation, took my mouth in a searing kiss. I opened for him instinctually, felt the heat of his mouth envelop mine, his hand reaching around my back, pulling me even closer to him. I moaned into his mouth and felt every part of my body flush when he growled in response. His other hand reached around to the back of my neck and held me in place as his mouth assaulted mine. He kissed me, angling my face to fit his perfectly, until I was clawing at his blazer, trying to rip it off of him. When he pulled away, my bottom lip was caught between his teeth and he slowly released it, gently licking it afterwards, forcing all of my blood to flow to the ache between my legs.
He looked smooth and sexy, not one hair out of place or wrinkle in his outfit, and I was all loud breaths, chest quickly moving up and down, hair mangled, with lips swollen and sensitive.
“I was hoping when we got back tonight you’d give me a special show.” His eyes twinkled, a smile breaking over his face.
“Oh,” was all I could mumble in response.
“You don’t think I’d let a stripper anywhere near me, do you?”
I shrugged.
“It’s a guy thing,” I said, still trying to recover from the world’s most absolute hottest kiss ever.
“You’re my thing.”
“Ok.”
He placed another kiss on my lips, but this one was small and sweet. It still made my knees shake, but gave my pulse a break. “You about ready?” He gave my butt a small tap as he left the room. I gave myself a look in the mirror and shook my head. He’d mussed up all my hard work.
“Give me fifteen minutes.”
We arrived at our hotel in Portland in the evening. Everyone attending the parties had gotten a room for the night. Porter and I hadn’t wanted to drive to Salem, and Kalli didn’t want to make the drive to Seattle. Megan and Patrick just wanted an excuse to stay at a fancy hotel and take a limo. That was good enough for me; whatever Megan wanted, Megan would get. The guys and the girls said goodbye to each other that evening with plans to all meet back at the hotel.
Megan, Kalli, and I were all sitting in a stretch escalade limo, surrounded by a few of her friends from high school and college I was familiar with, along with a few I didn’t know. We all did introductions and then I sat back to watch my baby sister in her element. Kalli hopped into the seat next to me.
“Feeling old?” She asked with a smile.