“I missed you,” Archer says, pulling his shirt over his head.
“I missed you too.” I shimmy out of my leggings. “I think the hormones are kicking in harder or something. All I can think about is sex right now.”
Archer gives me a cocky grin. “It’s because I’m so good at it.”
I nod. “You are. But don’t go and get complacent on me. I told you, I have very high standards.”
“I aim to please.” He grabs my ankles and pulls me to the edge of the bed. He drops onto the floor, kneeling between my thighs.
“If you fucking tease me tonight, Archer Jones, I might murder you.”
He smirks and slowly kisses his way up my thigh. His fingers dance over my panties, pressing oh-so gently against my clit. I lay back, body humming with anticipation. Archer takes his sweet time, kissing my thighs, making me squirm as he trails his nails up and down my legs.
“Archer,” I moan, reaching down and taking a tangle of his hair in my fingers. I guide his head back between my legs and arch my back. He grabs the sides of my panties and pulls them down, dropping them onto the floor.
“Take your shirt off,” he tells me. “I want to watch you undress.”
I give him a coy smile and sit up, moving back onto the bed. Slowly, I pull my shirt over my head and toss it at Archer. I run my hands over my breasts, pushing my bra straps off my shoulders one at a time.
And then Archer advances, taking me in his arms. He kisses me and unhooks my bra with one hand. We lay back, and I scramble to remove his boxers and pants. His cock is hard, and the tip is wet with precum. I wrap my fingers around his big dick, spreading the wetness down his shaft. Archer relishes my touch, eyes falling shut as I stroke him.
He moves away, pushing me back onto the mattress and kisses his way to my pussy, tongue lashing out as soon as he gets there. I fall back, letting out a moan as he gets to work. It doesn’t take long before I come, writhing against him as wetness spills from me. Archer doesn’t let up and moves his mouth faster. I’m so sensitive, so overtaken by pleasure that I push him away.
He grabs my wrists, pinning them down against the mattress as he continues to eat me out until I come again, even harder than before.
“I don’t do complacent,” he pants, slowly moving over top of me. My heart is still racing, pussy spasming, and I’m seeing stars. There was nothing complacent about that. Not at all.
“And by the way.” He tips my chin to the side and kisses my neck. “I’m not done with you yet.”
He moves on top of me, nuzzling my neck and playing with my breasts. I’m still floating in bliss, body on overdrive. Feebly, I wrap my arms around Archer, feeling every pound of muscle beneath my fingers. I feel closer to Archer than ever before, and it’s not just because of the two intense orgasms he gave me. He gets me, and I’m starting to think I get him too.
It’s complicated, trying to sort out my feelings for the man who’s fathering my child. The man I’ve had an innocent crush on since the day I saw him. I want us to work out. I’m falling for Archer, and though I’m doing my best to resist, I can’t fight gravity.
Archer lines his cock up with my core, and I widen my legs as he enters me. He moans, pushing that big dick all the way inside, then circles his hips, hitting me in the right spot.
I don’t know how he does it every single time.
“Ohhh,” I groan. “That feels so good, Archer.”
He likes when I say his name during sex. I’ve never been much of a dirty-talker, and usually would turn into a giggling mess if I tried, but nothing is awkward with Archer.
“Fuck me harder,” I pant, and Archer responds with an animalistic growl and thrusts in harder and faster, not stopping until I’m coming again. He holds his cock inside me, waiting until I’m finished, and then pulls out and picks me up, turning me over and pushing me down on all fours.
It’s the most forceful he’s ever been with me, and fuck, I love it. He enters me from behind, pushing his cock in and out with fury. He reaches around, fingers sweeping over my clit. His touch is soft and gentle, knowing I’m already at the point of no return. Moving his fingers in swift circles, he slows his movements until another orgasm takes over.
He grabs me by the waist and fucks me hard, falling against me as he climaxes. We both collapse onto the mattress after that.
“I counted four orgasms,” he pants, taking my hand.
“Are you keeping score?” I ask, breasts rapidly rising and falling as I gulp in air.
“Maybe.” He smiles and rolls over so we’re facing each other and places his hand on my ass. “It’s fun when I win like this.”
“If that was me losing, I’m a lucky girl.”
He smiles, kisses my forehead, and gets up to get a towel for me to clean up with. He gets back into bed and covers us with a blanket.
“Are you tired?” I ask, curling up in his arms.
“Yeah. It was a long day. I know you are.” He flattens his hand over my stomach. “You’re growing a person. Our person.”
“Sex and sleep pretty much make up our relationship,” I muse, nestling in deeper into Archer’s embrace. It’s Sunday morning, and I’m feeling too queasy for sex right now, but could easily fall back asleep.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It’s not. Give me a few more weeks and we can probably throw in eating.”
“Sex, food, and sleep. Sounds pretty perfect to me.” He pushes my messy hair back out of my face. “But next weekend when I’m in Chicago, let’s do something else. I still plan on having plenty of sex though.”
“Oh, me too. What do you want to do?”
“I’ve always wanted to go to the Science Museum there, unless you think that’s lame.”
“I love the museum. You can really come next weekend?”
“Yeah. And if you want to hook me up with your private jet connection, I wouldn’t object.”
I laugh. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“I was joking. I don’t mind driving, actually.”
“It’ll get old.”
“We won’t be making that drive forever,” he says and then stops short, realizing what he’s insinuating. He tried to bring it up a few times, and my parents keep pestering me about it. I’m only eight weeks, and a lot of women wait until they’re out of the first trimester to start any sort of planning.
“I know.” I swallow the lump in my throat, debating if I should take another pill or not. There are so many things on the ‘do not eat or use’ list for pregnancy, I’m scared just to breathe. “What about your parents? You haven’t told them yet, have you?”
He tenses. “No. But I will.”
“Are you worried they’ll be mad?”
“They won’t be. My mom will be pretty excited, I’m sure. And they’ll love you.”
I nod, not understanding why he hasn’t told them yet. “Are they still in Michigan?”
“They live there,” he says hesitantly. “But they’re…they’re out of town. I’ll tell them when they get back. I thought we could all go out for lunch together or something.”
“I’d like that.” There’s more we need to talk about on the subject, but before I can delve into it, I groan, not sure if I’m going to win or lose this morning sickness battle.
“Feeling sick?”
I push up, nodding.
“What can I do?” Archer’s hand lands on my back.
“Can you get me some water?”
“Of course, babe.” He gets out of bed and heads out of the room.
“And Sour Patch Kids, if there are any left.”
“I think you ate them all, but I’ll go get you some.”
I feel like I’m about to throw up stomach bile, but I smile, heart skipping a beat. My hand lands on my stomach. “You have a good daddy,” I whisper. “I think things are going to work out after all.”
Leaning back against the pillows, I close my eyes and think about anything else other than the sick feeling in m
y stomach. Archer comes back with a glass of cold water, remembering me telling him ice cold water seems to help for some strange reason.
“Do you want to take one?” Archer asks, holding up a pill bottle.
I make a face. “I need your honest opinion, not your doctor one. Do you think it’s okay to take?”
“This is commonly prescribed—sorry. That’s a doctor opinion. My honest opinion is if you can get by without it, then don’t take it. But if you need to, then take it.”
“That doesn’t help me much.”
“I know. Sorry. You need to be able to eat and keep food down for obvious reasons, and feeling like you’re on the verge of puking all day is pretty fucking awful. I want you to be happy.”
“I am happy,” I say honestly. “Even with all the drama going on, I am happy.”
Archer moves back into his spot next to me. “Good. Because I’m happy too. I know things happened out of order, but I’m glad we’re together.”
I take another sip of water, set the glass down, and rest my head against Archer’s shoulder. “This could go on for another month.” I reach for the water again, not sure how I can make it through four more weeks of throwing up.
“It’s kind of crazy that’s all there’s left in the first trimester,” Archer says. “It’ll probably go by fast.” He’s trying to comfort me, not cause me to panic. The first trimester will be over before we know it, and we’ll be that much closer to the due date and needing to figure things out.
On a rational level, I know I need to process everything. I’m a logical person. A problem solver. I know I can’t ignore something and make it go away.
But I’m so fucking scared.
“If you feel better later, do you want to go out and see the city? I still feel bad for yesterday. I hope you weren’t too bored sitting around here waiting for me to get off work.”
“I told you I wasn’t. Going through all your personal possessions kept me busy.”