Nineteen
Preston
Thankfully, my parents decided to keep the shower small. I flew Delilah and I into the Hamptons, then we took a private car to my parents’ home. I watched as Delilah gawked at all the big houses surrounding the area, her gasps tugging a grin on my cheeks. It was a quaint space to live in considering the clientele the Hamptons catered to. A place I would definitely raise a family if I worked closer to the place.
I usually took in the beauty of the place, but I was damn nervous for Delilah to meet my parents. While they weren't traditional people, they did fraternize with people who were very traditional. It was common in high society culture, and there were families who still looked down upon my parents for what traversed between the two of them. What Delilah and I were doing was the least traditional someone could get, and I was worried some of those people would be at the party.
But I was pleasantly caught off guard. My parents greeted her with smiles and good wishes and none of the more traditional of my parent’s friends were present. Because Delilah was carrying triplets, she was showing well beyond her months. My mother asked for permission to touch her stomach, and giggled whenever the babies kicked back at her.
Delilah smiled and shook my mother’s hands, but my father insisted on hugging her. I could tell she was taken aback by the gesture of goodwill, but she seemed to enjoy the attention nonetheless. My mother was anxious to walk her through the house, showing her all the rooms my mother had personally decorated while their personal chef placed a glass of cucumber water in Delilah's hand.
The dinner was beautiful. My parents had a wonderful time getting to know Delilah, even though I could tell my mother was disappointed they weren't able to tell many people what was happening. The last thing we needed was something leaking to the media and ruining Delilah’s wishes for this pregnancy. So I told my mother to not invite people in her circle of friends who would go to someone with this information. My mother was ready to print announcements and throw numerous baby showers, but the compromise she made was just as beautiful.
Dinner consisted of multiple courses. Things from small mugs of soup to spoonfuls of some of those decadent shavings of meat my parents’ kitchen had to offer. There was a gathering of about twenty people who came to shake Delilah's hand and get to know her, wishing us well during her pregnancy. They asked her everything from where she grew up to how long she had been working with the company, and with each question her smile got bigger. Every once in awhile, she would glance over at me to make sure she was doing the right thing. Making sure I wasn’t embarrassed or disapproving of her actions.
But all I would do is smile.
I wasn't sure what to expect, but I was impressed with the people that gathered. There were mounds of presents for us to open and go through, but no one expected us to do it tonight. And I was glad, because I had booked a decadent hotel room for Delilah and I for the entire weekend. Her stomach made her look as if she was five months pregnant--even though she was only three and a half months along--and I was ready to get my hands on her. The way her clothes draped around her and clung to her baby bump churned a primal need inside me I have never experienced before.
Delilah lit up a room. Both with her smile and her curves.
The longer we stayed, the more she settled into things. The conversation was topical, but it was kind. No one was snickering at her for having children out of wedlock and no one was judging her for the decision she made to keep things quiet. If anything, there were women who were sympathizing with her. Who were understanding of their situation. She was surrounded by women who understood what she was going through, and I could see relief flooding her features.
The outpouring of support we got from the group of my parent’s friends was more than I could have imagined. And Delilah look like an angel. But I could see the exhaustion slowly settling in her face, so I decided to intervene. I walked over to her and placed a kiss against her head, then excused us for the evening. My mother insisted we stay with her, but I told her I had a hotel booked in town and that we would be back tomorrow morning for breakfast.
I couldn't wait any longer. I took Delilah's exhaustion as an opening to get us out of there. Her body was calling to me. Tugging at a part of me I had never been able to indulge before. The two of us left my parents’ house and got into our private car, riding quietly back to the hotel. Delilah had been insistent on having a room to herself, so I compromised and got us a hotel suite. A shared living space with two separate bedrooms and doors that closed off those rooms. She was too far along in her pregnancy for me to have her any farther away than she needed to be from me.
I wanted to be close if something happened to her.
We got to the hotel and checked in, then grabbed our things from the car. I was ready to get her behind closed doors. I was ready to have her in my arms. Even if she didn't want anything more than for me to hold her, I was ready to be close to her. I was ready to tell her how beautiful she was and massage her feet. I was ready to get her whatever she needed and make her as comfortable as I possibly could.
I was ready to tell her how excited I was to have children with her.
I opened up the door to the hotel suite and Delilah gasped. I picked up our bags as she walked through the door, her eyes taking it all in. The furniture was plush and the four-poster beds were draped in a sheer type of fabric that made it glisten against the twinkling stars. There were two ensuite bathrooms that had walk-in steam showers and jet bathtubs to hold her growing body. I had a few of her favorite snacks and things she was craving already stocked in the fridge.
I wanted things to be perfect for her.
She sashayed into a room and I followed her into it. I picked up her bags and set them in the corner as she sat on the edge of the bed. She was speechless as her eyes fluttered around the room. I could see the anxious stress of the night dwindling as she relaxed into the bed. She flopped down, her breasts jiggled and her stomach protruding with our growing children.
I felt my cock pressing against my pants as I walked over to her.
“What do you think?” I asked.
“Holy hell, this bed is fantastic,” Delilah said.
“Think you’ll get a decent night’s sleep on it?” I asked.
“Decent? I don’t think I’m going to want to get out of it.”
“Maybe one day you’ll say that about me.”
Her eyes fluttered over towards me, her head turning and taking me in. I could see her eyes raking up and down my body as I shrugged off my suit coat. I tossed it over my arm, allowing her to take in her fill as I tried to calm my growing cock.
But when I looked back over at her, she was biting down on her lower lip.
“You looked beautiful tonight,” I said.
“Do I not look beautiful now?” Delilah asked.