About halfway through my second trimester, I was really starting to show and was becoming a little obsessed with it.
I was spending almost as much time buying new clothes as I was doing my job on the film. Max had no problem with me doing whatever I wanted, and since a lot of my work could be handled over the phone — problem solving and such — it didn’t matter if I was on the set or browsing in a store somewhere trying to find the perfect shirt that would hide my growing baby-bump.
More troubling, though, was the sex between Max and I. There was something decidedly different about it. For one thing it had decreased in frequency. But when we did have sex, he didn’t seem as into it as much as he always was — especially when compared with how he had been in the months before we found out I was pregnant.
I had noticed it with increasing clarity over the last couple of weeks, and it coincided with the time my body was noticeably changing.
At first, I decided to stop feeling sorry for myself. But then that resolve to just deal with it turned to a little bit of anger. Frustration, at least.
And that’s how I was feeling one day when I was trying on some new clothes in front of the tri-fold mirror in my large walk-in closet. I had gone through a few skirts and pairs of slacks, along with a few shirts, and I didn’t like any of them.
I was between outfits, trying to decide which to try next, standing there in my bra and panties, when I started to cry. Not sobbing, but just feeling a little overwhelmed by all of this. And I’m sure the hormonal changes had something to do with it, as well.
“What’s wrong?”
I was startled by Max’s voice and as I turned toward the door to see him, I reflexively threw one arm up across my bra and dropped my other hand down in front of my panties.
Max looked simultaneously worried and amused by my reaction.
“Olivia,” he said, moving toward me. “What’s the matter?”
He wrapped his arms around me and drew me in close to him.
My forehead fell to his chest and I continued to sob lightly.
“Talk to me,” he said.
He put a finger under my chin and lifted my face, looking into my eyes.
“Are you not attracted to me?” I asked.
His brow furrowed and his head tilted to the side. “What? Why would you think that?”
“You’re not…it’s not the same.”
Max put his hand on the side of my face and with his thumb he wiped away a tear rolling down my cheek. “What’s not?”
I exhaled heavily. “When we make love.”
He slowly shook his head. “No, no. That’s not it at all. I just want to be gentle with you.” He smiled. His hand drifted down the front of my body, finally coming to a stop as his palm rested on my belly. “You’re as gorgeous as always.”
I raised up on my tiptoes for a kiss.
Max wrapped his arms around me again and held me close, not letting our lips separate. Then he lifted me off the ground, and a few steps later, out in the bedroom, he was laying me on my back.
“I don’t want you to be different with this,” I said, looking up at the ceiling.
Max was kissing my neck, then the upper part of my chest. I looked down and watched as his tongue traced the edge of my bra over my plump breast.
He looked up at me. “I lust for every inch of your body, and I’m going show you.”
I arched my back so he could unclasp my bra, and he tossed it off the bed. He lowered his head, and traced circles around my left nipple, then my right, then back to the left one where he opened his mouth wide and sealed his lips around it, sucking it into his mouth.
Since becoming pregnant, my nipples were hypersensitive, and Max was clearly picking up on that fact, giving them more time and attention than he ever had. I squirmed beneath him as the sensation radiated from my breasts to all of my extremities.
I could have stayed there for hours as the tortuous pleasure engulfed me, but Max had other ideas.
Gently, he turned me onto my side, his tongue never leaving my skin, sliding along my side, then to my back as he positioned me onto my stomach.
I felt his soft, warm kisses on the middle of my back. Then higher, between my shoulder blades, and higher still, to the back of my neck as he swept my hair off to the side.
As he made a trail of soft kisses down my spine, he hooked his fingers inside the waistband of my panties.
Moving his mouth down lower to the small of my back, then to the curve of my ass, he slipped the underwear down my legs, following down the back of my right leg, kissing and licking along the way.
Then to my left ankle, and back up my left leg, slowing as he neared the top, then surprising me by biting me lightly on the cheek of my ass.
Max turned me onto my side, facing him. His head was still near my waist. He lifted my leg and brought it to his face, kissing the inside of my thigh, then moving farther up.
Rolling me over onto my back, he said, “I’ll never get enough of you, Liv.”
His tongue dragged up my thigh, just passing by my sex, and coming to a stop on my inner hip, where he kissed it and looked up at me.
A few quick, teasing licks of my clit. My hips rocked upward, reacting to his tongue. With one hand on each of my thighs, he spread my legs wider.
I thought he was about to make me come with his mouth, but he moved. He knelt between my legs and swiftly pulled his shirt off.
He then unbuckled his belt, lowered his zipper and let his pants fall to his knees, then pushed his underwear down.
I watched his fully erect cock spring free of the constraint of his boxer briefs, and his hand was immediately wrapped around his shaft.
He stroked himself, from base to tip, letting his thumb glide over the swell of the head, picking up the little bubble of moisture that had gathered there. He spread the silky precome around the head of his cock, and I could see it glistening from the lamplight.
Even after countless times being with Max, I still marveled at the sight of him naked — the way his muscles flexed and rippled under his taut skin.
“You’re gorgeous, Liv, and it’s been a while since I’ve fucked you like I should.”
His voice was deep and like a breathy rumble, and the way he matter-of-factly announced what he was going to do to me almost made me beg for it.
But I didn’t have to.
I felt the weight of his cock resting just above my sex as he leaned down to kiss me on the lips. His erection seemed to be radiating heat as it lay against my clit.
One slight shift, and the head of his cock penetrated me. Then another push, and he was inside.
“You’re so wet,” he said, tilting his hips left, then right, settling himself deep inside me.
He was going slow now. With each thrust in, he did that squeezing thing, making his thick erection swell even more.
I wanted this badly, and he was deliberately drawing it out to a tease. I tried to shift my weight and roll him over so I could ride him.
The corner of his mouth curled up into a half-grin as he grabbed my wrist, holding me firmly on my back.
“Trying to get on offense?”
“Yes. I need it,” I said.
He shook his head, adding a frown for effect. “Sorry, but you’re on defense from now on. No more offense for you.”
Max was tonguing my nipples again and doing that light biting thing that always drove me wild.
“You don’t think I can get on offense?” I said.
Without moving his head, he shifted his gaze to meet my eyes. “No.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” he said, and thrust his cock harder into me. “Really.”
God, he was tempting me.
Testing
me.
I locked a leg around his and tried to flip over once more.
“No dice,” he said, his hips now moving in a rolling motion — side to side and back and forth — as he fucked me harder.
His eyes bore a hole through mine. The intense, possessive, controlling stare only made me want to ride him more.
I tried again.
“You want this,” he said.
“I want to be on offense.”
My breath hitched as his cock penetrated me all the way to the hilt. I was wet and warm, but I could feel how hot his cock was, like steel sheathed in satin against my aching core.
“Fine,” he said, “but I’m still calling the plays.”
And he flipped us over, his erection staying inside me.
He raised his knees slightly.
“Lock your legs with mine,” he breathed.
I did just as he said.
I was bent over slightly and in his gravelly, low voice he told me to sit straight up. “I want to watch as much as I can while you ride it.”
I sat up as he told me to and he placed his hands on my thighs.
Once again I felt impaled on his length.
I started to slide up along his cock by pushing up with my legs.
With his hands on my legs, though, he stopped me.
I looked down at his stone cold expression.
He said, “You’ll get to do it your way in a minute. But now you do it how I want it.”
Fuck. He was teasing me again, and testing me. And I loved every second of it.
“Roll your hips like I was,” he said.
I moved them in a gyrating motion, and felt his cock burying deeper as I did so. Around and around in a circular motion, then switching direction.
I put my hands on his firm stomach to steady myself. I threw my head back.
Then I felt his thumb on my clit, moving in its own circular motion.
I wasn’t going to last long, and as it became obvious — through my breathing and the way my hip movements were starting to jerk — Max’s thumb retreated.
I had been on the verge of coming, and he had stopped it.
“Not cool,” I said.
His eyebrows rose and fell quickly. “This is how I want you to come.”
“This isn’t exactly offense,” I said.
“You need to come.”
“Yes.”
“Tell me, Liv. Beg me.”
“I want to come so bad. Please.” I don’t think I’d ever begged for anything this much in my life, and it left me feeling totally at his mercy, which only made me want it more.
“How do you want to come?” he asked. “You want to ride it? Bounce on it?”
“Yes, yes…”
His hands had been on my thighs again, preventing me from moving up and down, allowing only that gyration movement.
But then he lifted his hands, freeing me.
I almost didn’t wait, but it was only a second before he said, “Do it, Olivia. Come all over my cock.”
I slid up his cock, then back down fast, bumping against him…and then I couldn’t stop.
Max was kneading my breasts and rolling my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, pulling on them.
His hips bucked me up and down harder and I felt the head of his penis strike me deeper than ever before as I clenched around his shaft.
I exhaled heavily, not even having realized I had been holding my breath. All of my concentration was on our movements and the way he was fucking me from underneath.
“I can’t get enough of you, Liv.”
“I can’t get enough of your cock. Fuck me, fuck me…” I blurted.
Max’s upward thrusts grew stronger as I moved my hips up and down, riding him as fast as my body could take it.
“Come on my cock,” he repeated, and it was all the urging I needed.
I cried out a yelp, took in a deep breath, and started to come just as I felt his silken release inside me.
Max’s agent, Lyle, called one afternoon when I was shopping in Beverly Hills.
“How’s little Max doing?” he asked.
“We’re not going to find out the gender, but he or she is doing just fine. Thanks for asking. How are things with you? Signed that kid from the boy band yet?”
“Don’t get me started,” he said. “His music agent has him thinking he can do it all himself.”
“Oh, big mistake. They’re going to need your magic.”
“No shit. The thing that pisses me off is that they’ll give it a go and this music agent will fall flat on his face, and they’ll probably end up signing with someone else just so they don’t have to come crawling back to me.”
“That sucks.”
“And the thing is, I don’t even care. I won’t rub it in their faces. At least not directly. Anyway, are you in the office?”
“No,” I said, flipping through some shirts on a rack. “I’m looking for clothes that fit a pregnant woman, but are comfortable and also don’t scream ‘I’m pregnant!’ to the world.”
Lyle didn’t miss a beat. “Well, can’t help you there. Sorry.”
“I know. What’s up?”
“How’s ‘Disputed’ coming along?”
That’s what we’d started calling the movie. “Disputed” instead of the full title, “A Disputed Life.”
“On schedule and rolling right along,” I said. “Budget’s a little tight, though. Are you calling to pitch in?”
He laughed. “Nice try.”
“I’m kidding anyway.”
“Listen, I need to know if this thing’s gonna be done in time for Sundance.”
“Absolutely,” I said, even though I had no idea if that was true.
“Great. So we’re in.”
“We are? What about the submission process?”
“Leave that to me,” Lyle said.
“Oh, no.”
“Oh, yes. I’m cashing in a favor. A big one. ‘Disputed’ is in Sundance. Done deal. How’s that for agent magic?”
Max and I were out by the pool later that evening, watching a sunset that was so gorgeous it almost looked like it was fake, like so many of the ones in movies that I was now able to immediately identify as being CGI instead of real.
“Did he tell you what the favor was?” Max asked.
“No, just that it was a big one.”
“I’ll say. Well, we’re on schedule and, yeah, it’ll be ready.”
I was happy to hear him say that, after promising Lyle earlier that the scheduling would be no problem and that ‘Disputed’ would be ready by Sundance, even thought I only had a slight degree of confidence that it would be. But I also knew Max would have made it work, somehow.
We were sitting on one lounge chair. I was lying between his legs, with my back against his chest, using his shoulder as a head-rest.
Max held a drink in one hand. His other arm hugged my left side, and he had his palm flat on my tummy, which was now showing more and more each day. At least it looked that way to me. In any case, I was no longer freaking out about it, and actually felt more confident. Especially with Max, of course, who had lifted the hem of my shirt so his hand was against the skin on my belly, giving warmth both literally and figuratively.
“Now that we’ve got the good news out of the way,” I said, “I think we need to talk about something serious.”
“I’m not ready yet.”
“For what? You don’t know what I was going to say.”
“Yes, I do, Liv. And I don’t want to talk to my mother yet. Not about the baby, not about anything.”
I shifted around in the chair so I was facing him. He looked surprised in return.
“Max, how long are we going to wait? I know I was the one who said we had to wait a while, but everything’s good now. Every single doctor visit — ”
“I know, I’ve been there for all of them.”
I reached out and put my hand on his chest. “I know you have. I’m just saying that there’s no reason to wait anymore. My parents aren’t happy about us getting married, and I know for damn sure they’re going to freak about the baby. And what are you going to do? Keep it from your mom? Forever?” I shook my head. “Max, we just have to let them know. Getting married is one thing, but the baby…that changes it all.”
“Does it?”
I cocked my head to the side, not understanding why he didn’t get it. “Yes, it does. It really does.”
His eyes had been locked on mine as we spoke, but after my last comment he looked away. First to his right, then to his left, then finally settling on the ocean and the sunset just over my shoulder.
I didn’t want to say anything. I’d already said enough. I wanted to hear what he said after processing it, something I knew he was doing intensely because he moved his hand up toward his face, putting his thumb on his chin and rubbed it. It wasn’t what I’d call a nervous tic, but more like one of those involuntary things people do when they’re in deep thought and don’t even realize what they’re doing.
Long seconds passed, but I kept my gaze trained on his face. Watching him think. Observing him working it out for himself.
He finally spoke: “I want to marry you tomorrow.”
Max looked at me, waiting for me to respond, but I didn’t have a coherent thought beyond the word: “What?”
He sat forward, getting closer to me. He put his hand on the side of my face and brushed my hair off my cheek, tucking it behind my ear.
There was something in his eyes — not lust, like I was used to seeing in moments like this, but a deeply longing look. It was something I’d heard people say, and knew what it meant, but never really knew what it looked like until that moment.
“I love you, Liv. Nothing, and nobody, is going to stand in the way of us. I don’t care who they are. I know you want and deserve a huge wedding — ”
I shook my head rapidly. “No, I don’t want that. I never did.”
“You can have whatever you want,” he said. “I’ll give it to you. I’ll make your dream wedding come true. But think about hopping on a plane with me tomorrow, or tonight…yes, tonight…and it’ll be just the two of us. No worries about anything or anyone else.”
“This is crazy,” I said.
“It is.”
I shook my head slowly and saw the expression on his face change. He probably thought I was going to say no. But I reached my arms out and lunged for him, holding him tight.
“Okay,” I said, choking back tears of happiness. “Yes.”
Max made a few phone calls and by 10 pm we were on his plane, heading for Napa. We had gone back and forth, tossing around ideas about where to get married, and finally decided on Napa because Max loved it so much that’s where he had taken me on our first trip together.
We stayed in the same bungalow as the first time. The next morning we got our marriage certificate and by noon we were standing in the middle of an orchard with two other people — the officiant and our witness, an old friend of Max’s from his studio days who owned the bungalow we rented.
It was an understated event, just as we wanted, except for the fact that I did end up wearing a white gown — the same one I had worn to the Oscars. Max wore a new suit.
We decided to have the officiant say very little, other than the required questions asking us to declare that we took each other as husband and wife.
The majority of the ceremony was our vows, which were written on the fly. I didn’t know how mine would come across, but I managed to stop fretting over the words. I kept writing and rewriting, but the same things kept coming to mind, so I decided to stick with my original version and hope that it was enough, and that my face might say more than the words with Max looking at me.
When it came time for the vows, I went first: “Max, my love…You inspire me every day. When I came to California, I had big dreams but I had no idea that
you
would be my dream come true. Just last year I would have never known I would meet you, and now I can’t imagine my life without you. I love you more than I’ll ever be able to show, but I look forward to many decades trying.”
Max’s vow to me was: “I’m standing here today because of a spontaneous decision we made just last night, but marrying you was just a matter of time. Since I first saw you last year, I had no doubt you were going to be not just my wife, but my
life
. Until I take my last breath on this planet, I promise with everything I’m worth as a man that you will be my number one priority for the rest of time. I will drop anything and everything for you.” He kept his eyes trained on mine, but he reached down and touched my belly. “And for our children. I love my life again because of you. I love
our
life. I love you. This is the one and only truth that matters…You. Me. Forever, Liv.”
I could no longer make out his face through the blur of the tears that pooled in my eyes. I knew he loved me — he told me all the time, and showed me in so many ways — but having him make that beautiful pledge to me was everything I could have wanted to hear because I knew Max was the type of man that would live up to his words.