“You okay there, Muffin?” he asks, coming into the kitchen at Treat Yourself.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, dropping the whisk into the bowl of batter. “I thought you had a client coming in late?”
He wraps his arms around me, and I spin to face him. “He cancelled. Which means I have you all to myself for the next few hours before we both pass out.”
Josh kept his word — ever since I told him about my early nights and early mornings, he has kept to my sleep schedule. Some people might think it’s a small thing, but to me, it means so much. It means I never have to go to bed alone — instead, I have my best friend, my husband, wrapping his arms around me and kissing me goodnight.
Well, not just kissing.
Speaking of, I pull him to me, feeling all hot and bothered, and it’s not just because I have the ovens on.
“Lucy is gone for the night. The shop is closed. It’s just you and me,” I tell him, licking my lips.
“In that case, let’s put a bun in the oven.” He unties my apron and I feel my body warm under his touch.
I laugh. My husband and I have been talking about starting our family. Now that my business is stable and I have a handful of employees, and Josh’s client list is strong, we feel like the time is right.
Little does he know, though, that something is already baking.
I bite my lip. “Actually, I think there is already something cooking.”
He frowns. “What do you mean?”
I pull out the pregnancy test from my apron pocket. Two bright pink lines reveal the truth: we’re having a baby.
“I was making you blueberry muffins. It was how I was going to tell you about our little blueberry, but I couldn’t wait.”
Josh lifts me up off the floor, wrapping me in his big, capable arms. “Oh, Jessa,” he says, kissing me. “This is so wonderful.”
The warmth in his voice tells me he means it. He truly is as happy as I am. When we got married six months ago, his mom was already hinting at a grandchild. “Your mother is going to be thrilled.”
He chuckles. “I don’t want to think about my parents right now.”
“No? I thought you might like to call them.”
“Not yet. First, I need to show you how happy I am.”
I giggle, feeling his growing thickness that presses against my belly as my feet reach the floor.
“Oh, I already have an idea,” I tell him. I unbuckle his belt and trousers, and press my hand into his pants. “I’ve been so horny the last few days… I think it’s because I’m carrying your child.”
“That makes you hot?” he asks with a groan as I drop to my knees.
“So hot,” I say, licking my lips. I stroke his shaft the way I know he loves, the cool tile floor of the kitchen not bothering me because right now I am focused on my lover. My husband. The father of my child.
The love of my life.
I take him in my mouth — it’s one of my favorite things to do. I lick his hard cock, popping his tip past my lips, savoring the creamy drop of precome waiting for me and feeling my pussy get nice and wet.
Nothing gets me going like sucking Josh’s cock. I look up, my eyes meeting his. He runs his hands through my hair, letting the bun down, and my whole body turns up ten degrees. I want him so bad. All of him. He knows it.
Our first time was on an amusement park ride, and since then we have had sex in tons of equally adventurous places. The dressing room at a clothing store, the bathroom on the airplane taking us to Tahiti for our honeymoon… once at a movie, we sat in the back row and we got so turned on, he fingered me until I came.
So yeah, we like a bit of a thrill.
But then there are moments like this, in my shop, where we can get really wild. Really loud.
His cock is so rigid, so ready. I stroke him, sucking harder, greedily wanting him to come in my mouth.
He’s close, he stills against me and I grip his ass, wanting to deepthroat him as he comes in my mouth. He tastes so good, so salty and manly. Like my man.