London
WATCHING Brynne putting on her makeup, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I hoped she didn’t notice me watching because I didn’t want her feeling self-conscious. I knew she was a little worried, because her body had changed so much. But my girl was more beautiful to me now, than ever. Our little blueberry had grown right along with her, and was now a thirty-two week-old, tiny little person, who kicked, and wriggled, and rolled around for me all the time now.
“You’d better start getting ready or we’ll be late. Aunt Marie’s plans wait for no man…” she trailed off, never taking her concentration away from the mirror where she was applying some kind of dark smudge around her eyes. She had on a short black lace getup that made me hard just looking, but she was only halfway dressed.
I realized quickly, it would be best to stick with the plan or we’d never make it to Dad’s birthday dinner on time. So I forced myself to think of something very non-arousing, about work instead. It didn’t take long. The minding of young Prince Christian of Lauenburg at XT Europe certainly helped to cool my cock. My trip was just two days away, and I dreaded leaving Brynne already. Ridiculous fuckin’ job.
“But I’d much rather look at you,” I told her.
She made a soft sound. “Well my ass is getting bigger by the second, in direct competition with my belly. I hope my ass doesn’t win. At the end of this gig, I just want the baby, not the extra ass.” She looked up into the mirror at me, her expression giving away little of what was on her mind. Still so mysterious, my girl was. I loved that aspect of her, though. Made me even more determined to get as close to her as I possibly could, so I could touch and taste and absorb every available molecule. My need for Brynne was still as strong as ever. I had no doubts that would ever change, either.
“Your arse is perfection and you’ll never hear me complaining ’bout a bit more of you to grab hold of.” I gave her a slow wink and a lecherous grin. “From back here, you don’t even look pregnant.” I came up behind her, my hands sliding forward to rest on her bump. “I have to do this, to really know you’ve got anything here.” I splayed my palms over the firm rounded swell of our baby growing strong inside her.
She leaned back and rested her weight against me. “Oh something’s there all right,” she said, “that you put there.”
I laughed softly behind her. “I really enjoyed doing that by the way.”
“I seem to remember that you did,” she said dryly.
“Oh, you enjoyed it too.” I slid my hands up to her luscious tits and lifted one in each hand, squeezing softly. “Now these…are a different story. They’ve changed a great deal, and I fucking love the transformation.”
“I’ve noticed.” She closed her eyes for a moment and tilted her neck, just allowing me to touch her at will. Always so giving of herself to me and my crazed needs.
“Mmmmm…you feel perfect to me, Mrs. Blackstone, and you always will.”
“Did I ever tell you how much I love it when you call me Mrs. Blackstone?” she asked lazily, pegging me with those lovely eyes.
“A few times, yes. And I’m delighted you love your new name.” I grinned back at her in the mirror. “I know I love saying it to you. I know I love that my name is now your name. I love a lot of things…now.”
She reached her hand up to hold my cheek, still looking at me in the mirror. “But you’re getting a new name, too. We have someone coming to us soon who will know you only by one name, and it’s not Ethan.”
“Dad.”
“Yep. You are somebody’s dad now.” She smiled softly, a mixture of happiness and maybe a little sadness at the thought of her own father. “You’ll be the best ever…” she whispered.
Brynne always amazed me in her generosity—her ability to be so lovingly giving even in the face of her grief and loss. Brave. Strong. Magnificent. I kissed her on the back of the neck and rested my chin on her shoulder, both of us staring into the vanity mirror. “I love the sound of it—Dad. I’m a dad and you’re a mum.”
“We are indeed.”
I returned my hands to her stomach. “I love our little pineapple.” I turned her around to face me and took her smiling face in my two hands. “And I love you, Mrs. Blackstone.”
“I love you more,” she said.
CHAPTER 15
4th January
London
THE charity my father championed when he was alive sent out a notification whenever a donation was left in his name. The amount o
f the gift in the message I’d just read made my eyeballs bug out. I checked it again, counting the digits to make sure. All six of them.
The second shock was the message left from the donor in the comments section. Please let me make it right, Brynne.
Lance.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Lance had done this? He had made an obscenely large donation in my father’s name to the Meritus College Fund? Assisting disadvantaged, but motivated kids to get a university education?